One Step Too Far(Frankie Elkin #2)(43)

But he won’t take the bait. “This is a different story. End of senior year, we’re all desperate to land jobs. OSU has this co-op program where you get to spend time working for other companies. Often, if all goes well, this leads to an official job offer. For Josh and me, this is looking good. But Tim didn’t love the places he worked, while Miggy is being his usual indecisive self. He liked his final co-op experience, could see himself working there. But then he’s reading about an engineering position at this other new and exciting start-up and maybe that’s what he should pursue? On and on. Clock is winding down. He still hasn’t heard from the start-up. He finally makes his choice, going with the co-op company.

“A week later, he learns from a friend he did get contacted about an interview at the start-up. Call came the day after he accepted the co-op position. He never got the message. Tim did. And Tim went to the interview instead.”

“Wait, Tim took Miggy’s place in a job interview? At Miguel’s dream company?”

“Tim didn’t get it, thank heavens, but it was not a good time to be sharing an apartment with the two of them. But Tim, he also had this way about him. Sure, he didn’t tell Miggy about the interview. But Miguel had already accepted another job. So no harm, no foul, right?”

“What did Miggy think?”

“Same as the rest of us. Asshole move. But . . . but Tim is Tim, and Miguel had already made his decision. Maybe Miggy is being too harsh. Maybe he should just let it go, accept the case of beer, and hit the basketball court with Tim. We all got it, had been there ourselves. You try to stay mad. Tim was the one who screwed up, of course you have the right to be pissed off. But somehow . . .” Scott shrugs. “Even when we hated him, we still forgave him. He was a jackass on occasion, but he was also the guy who’d bring you home each and every holiday and never once make you feel like an outsider. How do you stay angry with that?”

Voices. Finally. I exhale a sigh of relief. We’ve done a terrible job searching. Have nothing useful to report. And yet, I’ve found this conversation enlightening, making our jaunt productive in its own way.

I make one more push for the answer Scott has so far refused me: “Tim loved Latisha. He ended up dating her and getting engaged to her. But he wasn’t the one who saw her first. So who did he steal her from? You? Josh? Neil?”

“I had a major crush on Latisha,” Scott replies carefully. “I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it. And as you can tell, I’m not exactly a subtle sort of guy. Tim could’ve backed off, acknowledged my interest, given me a chance. But that wasn’t his style. Once he decided he wanted her . . .

“Well, you know how that went. I wanted to blame him for my broken heart. But at a certain point . . . I think Latisha is the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. And back in those days, I could tell that’s what she thought every time she looked at Tim.”

“You came to terms. Were even willing to stand beside Tim as he married her.”

“I never tried to sabotage their relationship. And I didn’t set out to marry her after Tim was gone. But this is what Josh, Neil, and Miggy don’t want to talk about. After Tim disappeared . . . we weren’t the people we were before. None of us. And the people we became, the people Latisha and I became . . . We clicked. First, over our mutual grief and, yeah, shared memories of Tim. Then as friends helping each other get through. And then . . . We love each other. We’re good together. Now we’re starting a family. I wish the guys could accept that, but if not, fuck them.”

“Ironically enough, they would’ve come to terms if it’d been Tim marrying your ex-fiancée.”

Scott laughs harshly. “There is that. At least Patrice understands.”

“Tim’s mom?” This catches me off guard.

“Patrice has been battling cancer for over fifteen years. That’s a long time to contemplate dying. It’s made her much more practical about these things. Death happens; life goes on. She sent us a card for our wedding, giving us her blessing. She wrote that she’d long considered me a second son, and that she loved us both, and it made her heart happy to know something good had come out of something so awful. She looked forward to one day meeting our children. Though realistically speaking, I’m not sure that will happen. Last time Latisha and I visited, Patrice looked like a walking skeleton. First Tim, now her. Goddammit. They were my family, too, you know. Hell, I like them better than my own relatives.”

Scott can’t speak anymore. He pinches the bridge of his nose, then wipes at his eyes. We’re almost back to the others now. I pause, giving him a moment to recover.

“This is all so shitty,” he whispers. “The way Josh and Neil and Miggy look at me. Martin’s total hatred. I know finding Tim won’t magically change any of that, but at least it’ll finally be over. We can lay his bones to rest. And someday, Latisha and I will take our kids to visit his grave and tell them about this really great guy we both loved. We’ll share stories. We’ll keep his memory alive.

“That’s what Patrice wants. She knows Martin is too pissed off to remember. So we’re the keepers of Tim’s flame. And maybe it’s twisted that Tim’s former fiancée now married to his friend are the ones carrying it, but I don’t see the others stepping up.”

“Then my best wishes to the two of you,” I tell him honestly. Because I also know what it’s like to love someone so much that, years later, the loss still feels like a razor’s edge. And the only person I can share my sadness with is his widow. The woman Paul loved, calling the woman who loved him. Scott’s right: Grief makes for strange bedfellows.