Page 63 of Dear Roomie
“Let me take Grover inside, and then we can get going,” I tell her.
She follows me inside but waits for me in the lobby. I hustle up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and spend less than ten seconds inside the apartment. I only stop long enough to unhook Grover from the leash before I make my way back down.
“Where to?” she asks as I exit the stairwell.
“My car is only a block up the street. Let’s hurry so you don’t freeze.”
We make it to the car, and she lets out a small yelp as cold air blows from the vents.
“Sorry, the car is old. It will warm up in a bit. You’re going to have to navigate,” I tell her, “this piece of junk doesn’t have Bluetooth, either. I do have several CDs, though, if you want to listen to something other than the radio.” I motion to the book of discs I’ve collected over the years.
“Radio is fine,” she tells me.
We lapse into an awkward silence that hangs in the air as the music plays softly in the background. My companion’s attention is fixed on her jacket as she picksat the pilling wool and rolls the bits of lint into tiny balls between her fingers. The discomfort of it all makes me miss James more than I have all week.
“So,” she says, breaking through the tension, “how are things with Jamie?”
The question catches me so off guard, I nearly choke on my own saliva.
“Things are…” I trail off, unsure how to answer. “I’m sure you heard that she forgave Tanner.” I have to hold back a scowl as the bitter words coat my tongue.
“I did,” she says, and her face falls into a deep frown. “I was hoping she would be smarter than that.”
“Yeah, so was I,” I bite out.
“I’m sorry. I know you liked her. If it makes you feel any better, I was hoping she would choose you.” She reaches over and puts her hand on my arm.
“I don’t care about that,” I tell her, ignoring the unwanted feeling of her touch.
It’s mostly true. I’m not delusional—I know James wasn’t going to drop her long-term relationship for the man she just met a few months ago. That was never even a thought that crossed my mind. I simply don’t want her to get hurt any more than she already has.
“I’m worried about her,” I clarify. “You didn’t see how he was acting that night. He was unhinged and hungry for violence. I saw the bruises he left on her, and I felt the ones he left on me. James was terrified.” The memories blur as I shake my head, trying to clear away the growing cloud of anger.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up, I’m sorry.” She pulls her hand away and averts her eyes toward the road.
“Has he always treated her like that?” I can’t hold back the question that’s been eating me alive since that night. Has she been putting up with Tanner’s mistreatment this whole time? The thought makes my stomach churn and bile rise.
“No,” she says in a small voice. “He’s always been a little oblivious, but he always treated Jamie well enough. Things changed after he graduated lastDecember. I’m not sure what triggered the change, but he started acting more erratically, and James started to withdraw.”
I can make a pretty confident guess on what drove the change, but that’s not on me to explain.
“Thank you for telling me that,” I tell her with a grimace. It’s easier to see why she would stay with him if the behavior is new.
Evelyn hums in acknowledgment, but she doesn’t look in my direction. She keeps her attention locked on the road ahead.
“Take a left at this stop sign, and it’s the second building on the right,” she says abruptly. Her voice lacks any of the emotion it held before.
I nod and follow her instructions, parking in the crumbling lot in front of an even more decrepit brick building.
“Are you okay?” I ask her before we exit the car.
She blinks and shakes her head before she looks at me again. “Yeah, I’m great,” she says, her smile returning. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, let’s go,” I tell her, choosing to ignore her odd behavior despite my instincts.
Evelyn climbs out of the car, and I follow her inside. She introduces me to the Mission’s leader, Sister Margaret, who, using a no-nonsense tone, instructs us to “go be useful in the kitchen.” We spend the afternoon prepping produce for a stew and cleaning up a growing pile of dishes. I’m surprised to find myself having fun. Evelyn isn’t the most talkative, but we fall into a comfortable rhythm with each other. Even more surprisingly, my unrequited feelings barely cross my mind while we work.
“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” she asks as we leave hours later.
