Winter Solstice in St. Nacho's (St. Nacho's #5) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,54
I knew exactly how much Tug would enjoy the food. The view. The simple berry bowl with cream I had for dessert.
I found myself picturing his profile backlit by the blazing orange sun as it finally fell beyond the violet horizon. I wished I’d taken pictures because things seemed diminished these days if I couldn’t share them with Tug.
I messaged Echo as I left the restaurant for a walk along the wharves because I wasn’t sure how to feel about… well… my feelings.
Me: You around?
Echo: I can be. What’s up?
Me: Need to pick your brain about something.
Echo: I’ll call you in five.
Me: Thanks.
I found a bench where I could sit and listen to music on my phone and wait. The air blew inland, carrying the aromas of fish, smoke, seaweed, and iron. The area behind me sparkled with cheerful restaurants, festively decorated with string lights and rows of hanging Edison bulbs. In front, fishing boats bobbed in the docks. There were festive knots of people on the boardwalk—vacationers and families and people with pets.
My phone rang, and I answered, grateful to hear Echo’s voice.
“Hey, what’s up?” she asked.
“I’m in Morro Bay for a few days.”
“By yourself?”
“Yeah.”
“Sounds nice. Are you having a good time?”
“I am actually. I just had a great meal. It’s very festive here.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s the last holiday weekend before school starts for a lot of people. And?”
“And…” I sighed. Confession was good for the soul, right? “And I can’t stop thinking about Tug.”
“Hm.” Her hm sounded ominous. “What about him?”
“I dropped him off at a sober living house just up the coast. That’s why I took vacation days. I figured if I was coming down here, I’d tack some time onto Labor Day and enjoy myself for a change.”
“And?” I could picture her eyebrows going up. “There’s something you aren’t telling me.”
“And… I miss him. He wanted to start over independently so I dropped him off, and now I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Okay.” Her voice had gone a little cool. “What does that look like? Are you worried about him?”
“I guess, yeah. Of course, but that’s not really—” I glanced at the sky. Few stars pierced the drifting cloud cover and ambient lighting, but it was a lovely night. “I keep thinking about him. That he’d have enjoyed my appetizer or what he’d say about the view. I could picture what he’d look like when dessert came.”
“Aw, honey.” She sighed.
“I think I probably care more than I should, huh? I thought I had all these boundaries in place, but—”
“You don’t plan to see him against his wishes, do you?”
I gasped. “No. Of course not.”
“And if he called you and told you he wants you to come get him? That he doesn’t like it there, and he’d rather be with you?”
“That… would be a hard choice for me.” Goddamn Echo, for getting to the heart of things. “I’m such a sad bastard.”
“Would it be good for either of you? Being his escape like that?”
“If he was using me to escape, then no. I mean, if he just wanted to go out to eat or something, that’s one thing. We went on outings when he was at Hope House.”
“Dates?”
“No. Group things, like movies in the park.”
“I don’t see anything inappropriate. What are you really asking?”
“You know, I really liked Tug when he was a kid, right? I found his company pleasant and enjoyed tutoring him. He’s different now but still quirky and fun to be around when he’s not trying to play me.”
“And?”
“Well, okay. I like him. I enjoy his company now that he’s sober. He’s funny, and sweet, and smart. I wish I didn’t find him so attractive—”
“Oh, there it is.” She said it like gotcha, and I’ll admit I was a little stung. “You have feelings for him.”
“I have ‘feelings’ for a lot of people, including you, cuz. Settle down.”
A pause. “Defensive much?”
“Maybe?”
“You idiot.” Her light laughter was an audible Band-Aid. “Fess up for God’s sake. It’s not like I didn’t know you’ve had feelings for Tug all along. That’s why I asked if you’d go to nar-anon meetings.”
“Right. And I went, so now I know about the shit piles, but it’s still hard to see when I’m about to step in one.”
“You’re not stepping in anything if you’ve let go so he can find his own way.”
“What else could I do? He asked me to walk away.”
“Sounds like you both have your heads on straight.”
“Even so, I miss him. I keep thinking about him. I