The Rockmore House

39 | Falling

After school on Tuesday, I walked with Eric back to his house, but Pete wasn't there and neither was my car. While Eric mashed together the ingredients for his daily after-school snack, I spun my phone around on the tabletop and waited for Pete, wishing he had a phone so I could check in on him.

"He must be feeling better," Eric said, sensing my concern. "If he's out driving around."

"I hope so. He was pretty miserable yesterday. It's like he got worse. The day he got out of the hospital he seemed to be feeling pretty good. Well, he was in a better mood, anyway."

"He was probably feeling real good," Eric said.

"Why do you say it like that?"

"I'm sure he still had some pretty good drugs in his system at that point," he said. "Like, when you're drunk, you know? You're happy and relaxed and everybody is your friend and you say things that you probably wouldn't say if you were sober."

I wasn't familiar with that feeling. I'd probably never had enough to drink to get to that point. Or I was destined to be aloof and unfriendly no matter what substances were circulating in my system.

So that brief flirtation when Pete kissed my hand outside the hospital was probably because he was high on whatever pain killers they were giving him. That made sense. Because the day before, he barely spoke to me and brushed me off when I tried to hold his hand. Maybe he was feeling euphoric when he made the decision to come with me. Maybe he was regretting it already.

When my phone buzzed, I jumped.

Sophie: Are you okay?

Vanessa: Yeah, why?

Sophie: Did someone steal your car? I'm at work and your car is parked across the street and there's some guy sitting in it.

I found Pete in my car by the waterfront park, seemingly doing nothing but staring through the windshield. I tapped on the window before I opened the door and sat in the passenger seat. It was just as cold inside the car as it was outside and his lips were turning blue, which reminded me of the boy in my dream- in my memory- and made me want to clutch his hand so I wouldn't lose him.

But once I noticed the tension in his jaw and troubled wrinkle between his eyebrows, I decided to keep my hands to myself.

"Hey, how'd it go today?" I asked.

"Not good."

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

He wouldn't look at me, and continued to stare out at the river. A freighter was heading downriver, making the ground hum as it passed. It wouldn't be long before the river would be lined with ice floes, broken up by Coast Guard ice cutters.

"How long have you been sitting here?"

"I'm not sure."

"You look like you're freezing," I said. "There's a coffee shop across the street. Do you want to go warm up?"

"I can't go in there," he said quietly. "I can't go anywhere. Not right now."

Then I'd have to bring the warmth to him. "Start the car and turn on the heat. I'll be right back." I started to get out, then turned around and asked, "Wait, peppermint and chocolate together, thumbs up or thumbs down?"

His face softened and he gave a thumbs up.

A few minutes later I returned with two cups of peppermint hot chocolate.

"Liquid holiday cheer," I said as I handed one to Pete.

We sipped our drinks in silence and watched joggers run by in tight athletic leggings and brightly colored windbreakers, and people walking their dogs on the boardwalk. As the sky began to darken, the lights on the garland draped along the boardwalk railing switched on and lights from towns along the border in Canada began to shine across the river.