Chapter 54: Jake

Although I’d managed to catch up on some sleep today while Renee has been at work, I was still thoroughly exhausted when I finally rolled out of bed around five thirty in the evening. My stomach was growling, demanding some sustenance, though eating was the last thing I wanted to do. In fact, all I really want to do is avoid Aaron, because I know he’s been fretting around the house, blasting the stupid jazz music he tended to put on to help him paint. Once or twice I wanted to yell at him to shut it off, but I was too tired to drag myself from the bed. I knew he had a studio downtown. I wish he’d fucking use it.

Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a tee shirt, I ran a hand through my hair with a yawn and then made my way downstairs, only to find Matt already sitting at the dining room table nursing a beer. His eyes flickered up as I entered the room, and he titled the half-empty bottle in my direction with a nod. From what I could see on the counter, he was already on his fourth or fifth bottle.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said with a smirk. He was still dressed in his work clothes, as though he was anticipating to be called back at any moment, but I knew he was off shift for the next twenty-four hours. He was probably just as tired as I am.

“Feels like I can’t get enough of it,” I admitted, going to the fridge to snatch one of his beers. Matt raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop me as I popped the cap and sat down across from him, taking a long drink from the bottle. “Sleep, I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” he said. “I haven’t slept in, like, two days.”

“Why?”

“Work is keeping me busy.”

I nodded and focused on the label on the bottle, tempted to peel it off. Things have been awkward between the three of us for a while, and nobody seems to know why.

“Did you see Renee at work?” I asked, hoping I sounded innocent and not nosy. Matt nodded, but he didn’t look at me.

“She should be home around six, actually.”

“That’s great.” I took another drink of beer and looked around pointedly. “Where’s Aaron?”

“Fuck if I know.” Matt reached for a stray bottle cap and squeezed it between his fingers, watching it curl between his calloused grip. “He was here for a minute when I got home, then he left without saying a word. He’s probably off pouting somewhere.”

“Dunno what he has to pout about,” I said with a smirk. “He’s the one who had Ren all to himself while we were at work.”

“Yeah,” Matt said softly. “It’s kind of bullshit.”

I glanced at the clock on the microwave, noting that it was almost five-thirty. “How about we make dinner?” I asked Matt. “Ren would like that, wouldn’t she?”

Matt shrugged. “Probably.”

“Good.” I stood up from the table and took another swig of beer, eyeing Matt’s dirty work attire. “I think I’ll start dinner; maybe you should go take a shower or something.”

“Fine,” he groaned, sliding his now-empty bottle across the table and away from him. “I won’t be long.”

I knew he was full of shit, but I said nothing as he trudged upstairs to clean up. Then I went to the fridge and pulled out some thawed chicken breast to dice up. I recalled seeing some canned alfredo in the cupboard. We could make chicken alfredo, Renee’s favorite. It had been a while since we’d all sat down together for dinner. Our work schedules kept us insanely busy, and I wondered as I cut up the chicken if that had anything to do with the sensation of us drifting apart. Briefly, I considered calling Aaron and asking him to come home for dinner, but then I decided against it. He had his time with her, now it was ours.

At six, Matt came back down the stairs, freshly showered and shaved, thank God. By then, I’d already had dinner finished and staying warm in the oven for when Renee got home.

“Something smells good, Sally,” Matt teased, swiping another beer from the fridge. “Who knew you’d become the chef of the house?”

“Renee isn’t the only one who should be cooking for us,” I scolded, grabbing his remaining empty beer bottles and tossing them in the trash with a glare. “Or cleaning up after us.”

“I clean,” Matt complained, thumping down in the chair.

“Hardly.”

“I have a tough job.”

“So do I, and so does she.” I didn’t know where this sudden offense was coming from, but I was getting tired of excuses. Renee didn’t seem to be happy anymore, and that bothered me more than it bothered Matt, it seemed.

“Don’t get your patients in a bunch,” Matt said with a scoff. Despite a hot shower, I could see the bloodshot eyes of his alcohol-induced stupor.

“Can we just not argue tonight?” I asked, reaching into the cupboard for plates to set the table. “All any of us do anymore is argue. I’m sick of it.”

Matt was quiet as he pondered this, and just when I was certain he was about to say something else sarcastic or petty, he rose from the table and went to the drawer to gather utensils instead, silently helping me set the table.

“Thanks,” I muttered, and he nodded.

“Don’t mention it.”

My phone beeped just then, and I glanced at it. It was Renee, letting me know that he was on her way home. I grinned and looked at Matt, who was watching me quietly.

“I think we all need to talk tonight,” I told him. “Maybe lay some of our issues out on the table, you know? I feel like we haven’t been communicating very well with each other.”

“Sounds like a blast,” he muttered. “I can’t wait.”

“The least you can do is pretend to care.” I dropped my cell phone into my pocket and glared at him. “We’re not in college anymore, Matt. This is our life now, the one we agreed to five years ago.”

Matt shrugged as if he couldn’t care less, and I slammed my fist on the table in frustration. The empty glasses rattled, and Matt glanced up quickly, surprised by my outburst. His eyes finally met mine.

“If we don’t work harder at this, we’re going to lose her,” I said softly, lowering my voice to try and get my point across. “Is that what you want?”

“Of course not.”

“Me either. So stop acting like a petulant child and work with me here, Nelson.”

After what seemed like an eternity of awkward silence, Matt finally smiled—or smirked, more like it—and shook his head.

“I never knew you had it in you,” he said, and I scowled at him.

“Had what in me?”

“Maturity. You’re so different from college.”

“Yeah, well, I grew up,” I said, hearing the key in the front door lock. “Maybe it’s time for you to grow up, too.”