Page 3 of Fun Together
Because why else would Andrew’s college roommate and oldest friend, who lives in New York City, be casually entering the elevator of the company I work for in Raleigh, North Carolina?
His golden-brown eyes light up, crinkling with a grin. “Faye, hey! I was wondering when I was going to run into you.”
2
Faye
I blink,thinking he’ll go away.Nope, still there.
“Eli? What are you doing here?” And why was he clearly expecting to see me?
“I just started working here this week,” he says, in a tone that insinuates I should know this bit of information. Why didn’t Andrew mention that not only had Eli moved back, but that he got a job where I work?That news seems way more important than what’s currently stocked at Trader Joe’s.
“I had no idea. When did you get back?”
“About four months ago. Maybe five?” He reaches up to scratch the underside of his jaw. “Time flies.”
The last time I saw him was graduation night five years ago. Andrew, Eli, and I had gone out to celebrate and I stayed over at their place like I always did after a night out. I woke up in the middle of the night dying of thirst and stumbled down the stairs to find Eli sitting alone at the kitchen table eating Oreos.
I wonder if he’s also remembering that night spent talking about our plans. I was starting an internship at the very same company I’m currently working at. He was off to New York City the next day with no job or permanent place to live lined up. His leaving felt a little sudden, even for him, but I chalked it up to Eli being Eli.
He asked me if I would come visit him and I was taken aback, not because of the question, but the way he asked it. Like he was holding his breath for my answer. It hit me then, that he was really leaving. It wasn’t some kind of whim, and these late-night conversations that had become commonplace for us were never going to happen again.
Then he hugged me in a way that felt like goodbye, and our three-person unit was down to two. We were moving on and transitioning into the next phase of our lives. Andrew visited him several times, but I never did. I’m not sure why, other than this instinctive need I have to protect myself from some future disappointment. Eventually, we’d probably all stop visiting each other altogether, so why prolong the inevitable?
“It really does,” I say, looking up to watch the floor numbers tick down as we descend.
At first, I think he looks exactly the way he did that night. He still has the same tall, athletic build. The same light brown hair curling over his ears, like he’s always in need of a haircut. An ease of movement, like there’s no place he doesn’t belong, whether he’s leaned back in a rickety dining chair eating cookies at four a.m. or waltzing into this elevator and completely throwing everything off balance.
Do I look the same to him too? Or is he also realizing, like me, that so much has changed since then. I see now that the boyish charm he always had in college has been replaced with something more mature, almost rugged. His skin is tan—like he’s spent the whole summer outside—and what was formerly a baby face now has a bearded jawline.
And when he reaches up to adjust the strap of his backpack, I notice his right arm is sprinkled with tattoos down to his wrist.Those are new.
“How have you been?” he asks.
Now there’s a loaded question. “I’ve been good. Are you happy to be back?”
“Yeah, it’s good to be home. I’ve missed everyone.” He smiles then, and as if recalling a fond memory. “I’ve missed the food, mostly. First thing I did when I landed was go to Bojangles for a chicken biscuit.”
The elevator dings our arrival on the ground floor, and we step out to walk toward the exit to see the security guard, Tom, always sitting sentry at the building’s entrance. Tom has been the security guard in this building for over twenty years. He has one of the most impressive thick white mustaches I’ve ever seen, and he eats a ham and cheese sandwich for lunch every single day. “Miss Faye, what are you still doing here?” he asks as we approach.
“You know the hustle never sleeps, Tom.”
He gives a good-natured chuckle. “Well, since you are here, FedEx just dropped this off for Alexis. He holds up a small rectangular box. “Should I keep it locked up this weekend for her to collect on Monday?”
I can’t help but smile at his diplomatic way of asking me to please take the cursed package off his hands, so he doesn’t have to deal with Alexis on Monday.
“No, don’t worry about it. She asked me to grab it for her.”
He looks relieved as he hands it to me. “Have a good weekend and try to stay out of trouble.”
I place the package in my tote bag. “You know I can’t make any promises.” Tom and I do this same song and dance every week, where he makes a joke about being on my best behavior during the weekend, and then I come in on Monday morning and say I did something super wild like try a new coffee creamer. I notice that Eli is watching our exchange with amusement. “Tom, this is Eli.”
Eli reaches out to shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, Tom. I hope you’re able to get out of here soon, too?”
“I’ve got about an hour left on the clock. Then I’m going fishing with my granddaughter this evening.”
“It’s a perfect day for it. Where do you fish?” Eli asks.
