The People We Keep(75)
“He’s not going to take the hold off the card, though,” Justin says. “And if the hotel decides to arrest me, he won’t help. There’s nothing I can do. I have like ten bucks left.” He sobs and buries his head in my shoulder. I want to ask if his dad would pay if I just turned right around and drove him to Rochester, but I don’t feel like I can with how hard he’s crying. The terms are so completely different, but the disappointment is familiar.
“I’ll pay for it,” I say. “I have cash. I’ll fix it.”
His relief is instant and beautiful and being able to give that to someone else feels triumphant. I can do more than just survive. I can do more than take. He kisses me hard.
Brian is still watching. I give him a thumbs up. Cool as a cucumber. But there’s a slight scuffle when I tell Brian I have to go up to the room to get money to pay him. He insists on coming with me while Justin stays in the lobby.
“So, Buffalo,” Brian says in the elevator, his breath loud in the small space. He stands closer than he needs to and I wonder if his insistence on coming with me is about more than making sure we don’t bolt. “Good wings.”
“Of course,” I say, smiling.
He smiles back. “I like wings.”
I get the feeling there’s another way to solve this. He’s not so awful, just sad and spent. It wouldn’t be the worst way to get out of a bad spot.
The elevator doors open. We walk down the hall together and I think about Ray and the crunch of his foot bones under my tire. His black-framed glasses. How he rolled the flyer from my show in his hands and seemed so harmless and earnest. I try not to think about that burnt rubber smell, but then it’s like the air won’t fill my lungs anymore and the things that are real hide behind my thoughts.
I stop smiling at Brian. I swipe my room key. Rummage through my bag. I pretend I don’t notice the way he watches me from the doorway. He holds the door open with his back, and I’m relieved to feel like I could scream and be heard. That he understands the need for that courtesy.
“Here,” I say, handing Brian a hundred and forty dollars. “Can you tell Justin I’ll meet him in the car?” He looks like he doesn’t want to leave me in the room.
“I just want to pack up and use the restroom,” I say.
He shifts his weight and the door swings shut. I gasp. I don’t mean to. He’s shocked. It was an accident. He’s scared that he scared me. Worried what I think. He reaches for the door handle.
“Sure,” he says. “Give him the change?”
“Keep it.” I don’t know if I’m supposed to tip. I don’t stay in places this nice. If a tip is expected, it’s a terrible one.
“Have a nice trip,” he says. “I’m sorry about… all the confusion.”
He shuts the door and the tears come fast. I run into the bathroom and splash cold water, but it feels like drowning. I cough and sputter and cry like there’s something inside me trying to escape.
Deep breaths and I sit on the bed and put my head between my knees. In. Out. Dig my thumbnail into the fleshy part of my opposite hand. I get it under control. Choke it down. Banished to the very bottom of my lungs. But still there.
* * *
When I get to the car, Justin is sitting on the trunk, with his duffle bag in his lap, swinging his legs. He smiles and waves when he sees me. I expected him to be upset about his dad, but relief has made him perky.
“I can probably get you back to Binghamton on what I have.” I’m sure Arnie will let me play again or tend bar or something, so I can pull together what I’ve lost.
“I don’t want to go back,” Justin says. “If I do, my dad wins.” He’s not concerned with my drained reserves. It’s paid for. It’s over. He’s not getting arrested. He wants to win this battle I don’t even understand. But I’m not sure I have it in me to tell him I’m done. To stay in the car with his disappointment all the way to Binghamton. And then to be alone again.
If we keep going, I don’t know how Justin will get back. But I don’t make an issue of it. He knows how much money I have left. I decide he can make his own decisions, but then he says, “There’s always Motel 6,” and I realize he doesn’t understand.
“I think I know a place where we can stay,” I tell him. “On Anna Maria Island.”
“Is there a beach?” Justin asks.
“Yup.” I’ve been there before. I know my way around. Stay for free. Pick up a gig or at least play on the beach. Bradenton is half the miles it would take to get to Binghamton and I’m still tired. I’d rather push the crisis to the end of the week.
“That works,” he says, smiling. He hops off the trunk and gets in the passenger seat.
— Chapter 39 —
It’s past midnight when we get to the house. No cars in the driveway and the lawn is long. They send someone to cut the grass when they’re expecting guests.
Justin slams the car door too loud. My heart thuds like a bass line as we walk the path to the front door of the cottage. I’m surprised Justin can’t hear it.
If they’ve changed the code, I’ll have to make up a story. I know numbers for a house a few blocks over. I used to bounce between the two last year. But the other house looks totally different from this one. I can’t say I got confused. I don’t know what my story would be. We could sleep on the beach. It’s warm, at least.