Page 20 of Antagonist

“That’s not important now. Why do you sound so tired?”

“Not important? Tate, you’re calling me this late. Is everything okay with Tyler?” Since Tate and his husband, Indy, welcomed their baby boy just a few days before Christmas, I don’t hear from my best friend as often.

It’s understandable. I remember all too well the sleepless nights when Megan was born. One second, Stella would say we needed to go out for dinner, just the two of us so we could feel a little more human, and the next, we’d give it up for extra sleep.

“Tyler is fine. Indy got up to feed him, and I couldn’t sleep.”

I snorted. “You were already in bed?”

“Dude! Glass houses. Once upon a time, I had to put a Kleenex under your mouth to stop you from drooling on the Adler case.”

“Don’t remind me. I don’t miss being so tired that I fall asleep standing in the grocery store line. Anyway, why are you calling me at this godforsaken hour?” I ask, looking at the clock in the kitchen. It’s just before midnight. Probably not a good idea to make another coffee.

I walk back to my home office to shut down my laptop.

“How’s the new job?” Tate asks.

“It’s okay. It’s different than Boston, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah. It was an adjustment for me too, but opening my own practice was the best thing I could have done. I call the shots on the hours I work and I get to pick my clients.”

“Don’t you miss it? Chasing the big cases. Working all night and then going straight to court the next morning…?”

Is that why I feel so unsettled? I knew moving to Stillwater would be a big change, but I feel like I’m still waiting for something to slot into place, and I don’t know what it is.

“No, I don’t miss it, Hare. I mean, I did when I first moved. I was used to handling multiple cases, some of which dragged on for months, sometimes years. Indy works long hours, so I felt a little lost. Didn’t know what to do because the usual things I did weren’t there anymore. There were no late-night runs, no crashing at your place after talking until too late. I needed a new routine and didn’t know how to get one.”

Really? Tate has always seemed so happy to move away from Boston.

“I didn’t know, Tate. When did it change?” I ask.

“It was gradual. One day, my brother would come get me for a drink after work. Then another day, I wanted to spend time with Indy, so I’d go down to the coffee shop and help him. Sometimes I looked after my business partner’s daughter while she ran a few personal errands. I don’t know. Suddenly, I had a social life. Friends who don’t just talk about work and other things to do. I don’t know…”

What Tate is saying isn’t completely new to me. I’ve met their circle of friends and know how close they are. Tate also has his twin brother living across the street from him.

What do I have?

Stella and Megan are my family, and they’re only a few blocks away from me. But Stella is my ex. Yes, she’s one of my best friends, but she has her own life, her job.

I have Megan, but what do I have when I don’t have her?

That line of thought makes my chest tight, so I’m glad when I hear hushed voices on the other side of the line.

“Is that Harrison? Hey, hun,” Indy says. “Put him on loudspeaker, babe. Not that loud! If Tyler wakes up again, it’s your turn, and you know I’ll fall asleep, which means no blowjobs for anyone.”

I snort at Indy’s hushed voice coming through clear.

“Thank you for the imagery, Indy. How are you doing?” I ask.

“We’re good. Hey, why don’t you come over on Sunday? There’s a cookout on the square. Everyone’s bringing something to share, but you don’t need to bring anything. I’ve got you covered,” he says.

“Babe, you have enough cinnamon buns to put the whole town in a diabetic coma. You haveeveryonecovered,” Tate says before he coughs out a groan.

“Dude, you get free pastries anytime. Don’t annoy the baker,” I say.

“They’re not free—”

“Stop. I don’t need to know what you do for pastries.”