Page 8 of Up In Flames

Oren

L ife had a way of catching up with me, no matter how hard I tried not to live it. At first, it was taking the job. I’d grown weary of being sad and alone and unproductive. The job meant I had to deal with people, an impossible task in the beginning, but it got better the more I had to do it.

Grief still clung to my bones most days. But lately I noticed that it was easier to move through the world, even though the loss hadn’t lessened. The idea that I was moving on nearly made me vomit the first time it crossed my mind.

I ducked out of my building and headed down the street.

It was Saturday again, and it had been a week since I saw Will, but we’d managed to text every day since the park.

Sometimes my texts went unread for hours, and he’d pop in and answer them and tell me about the call he was on or the food he was making.

Will’s love of food and cooking was what prompted me to get my ass to the grocery store. My fridge and freezer had been full of microwave meals and convenience foods. Will seemed to look after everyone around him, and shame had bloomed in me when I realized that I could barely look after myself.

I hadn’t willingly slept in since before law school, so I was at the doors to the grocery store a minute after they opened. Shopping in the morning was a much more peaceful experience than shopping later in the day.

I grabbed a cart and set out for the produce section. Normally I made a beeline for the frozen foods or the premade offerings at the deli. With my usual plans dashed to smithereens, I quickly realized I didn’t have the faintest idea what to buy.

Did I need avocados? Did I like avocados? Celery seemed like a good choice. And apples, Granny Smith. Byron had hated anything that wasn’t a Red Delicious. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to move away from the apples before I had a mental breakdown among the fruit.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see a message from Will. In my phone he was Dorsey. I indulged myself with the delusion that we were close enough for me to call him the name that all his closest friends used.

It was a picture of a cat clinging to someone for dear life as they pulled it out of a tree.

Instead of answering him via text like a normal person, I called him. He answered on the first ring.

“I didn’t know that firemen really rescued animals from trees. Way to live up to the stereotype.”

Will’s answering laugh was rich and deep. “It’s because we have the ladders. That’s why they call us. We also get to do fun things like snip people out of things they stick their head and other body parts through or in, and then can’t get them out.”

A store employee came over the PA system to call for a manager to the front.

“What was that?” Will asked.

“Oh, I’m shopping. Groceries.” A weak laugh escaped me. “Well, I’m attempting to shop, but I got here and realized I don’t know what to buy.”

“What do you have at home?”

I scoffed. “Take out containers and microwave meals. But after that chili last weekend, you have me wanting to have some real food again. But I’ve been wandering the produce section for fifteen minutes and so far I have celery.”

“Is there anything specific you have in mind that you want to make?”

“Um… food?”

“Okay, so no meal plan. Gotcha. Okay, you need onions and garlic to go with that celery. Get a bag of onions and one of those packs of garlic with three heads in them. Or if you hate peeling garlic, you can get a jar of minced.”

“Bag of onions, jar of garlic. Got it.”

Will stayed on the line with me while I located both items. He chatted away to me about different things I could make with the same basic ingredients.

He had me grab a bunch of carrots and a couple green peppers.

It looked like way more food than I could eat before it all went bad, but I trusted Will to know what he was doing.

Next, he directed me to get some ground beef, or pork, or whatever other animal I liked to eat. I grabbed sausage while I was there without being told, and it felt like a victory.

When I’d walked into the store, everything had seemed overwhelming.

It wasn’t that I used to do everything with Byron, or sometimes Byron and Rita.

Once upon a time, I was a perfectly well-adjusted, grown-assed man.

Sometimes I still caught glimpses of that person when my sense of humor would come out to play.

I’d crack a joke, and it was as if I was the Oren before the accident.

Happier, even if I wasn’t carefree then either.

But those problems seemed far more trivial than the ones that plagued me now.

And also somehow less trivial. The Oren before wouldn’t have nearly had an anxiety attack about a bag of apples.

By the time I got to the cashier to check out, I realized that I’d bought far too many things to easily carry home.

“I’m definitely going to have to call a cab. There’s no way I can get this home myself.”

I could if I drove, I told myself. My throat tightened and my skin felt hot, even though I shivered. It took me a minute to recognize that Will was trying to get my attention. Sucking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly. I refused to lose my shit at the checkout.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“The Megamart on fifth.”

“Pay for your things. I’ll meet you out front in fifteen.”

“No, it’s fine—I?—”

Will cut me off, his tone firm and unbending, but also so full of kindness and understanding that it left no room for refusal. “Fifteen minutes, Oren. Out front. I’ll be there. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“See you soon. Get yourself a chocolate bar at the checkout.” He ended the call, and I tucked my phone away.

What had started out as a good morning had quickly turned to shit. Was I so broken that I couldn’t manage to grocery shop on my own? I should be able to do things like shop and drive like I used to. I should be able to function without someone holding my hand.

I made a note to talk to my therapist about all the feelings swamping me. The guilt. The self-hate. The worthlessness, thick and relentless that shoved me back every time I thought I’d taken a step forward.

The cashier was nice enough, probably. The fog had descended on me, and all I could focus on was paying for my stuff and getting the hell out of there.

The automatic doors whooshed open, and I hurried outside.

Fresh air helped. The sight of Will pulling up to the curb and putting his truck in park helped more.

He jumped out and came around. “Hey, man, good to see you.” He greeted me like nothing was wrong.

Like it was a normal Saturday, and I wasn’t falling apart outside a Megamart with a cart full of groceries.

He clapped me on the arm like we were old friends, and I watched, unmoving, as he loaded my bags into the back of the truck.

“I can just meet you back at your place if you’d rather walk.” His expression was nothing but understanding. No judgement. No barely hidden smirk like he thought it was hilarious. It made me want to be brave. He made me want to be brave.

“If you can run into burning buildings, I can stand a five-minute drive.”

“You sure?”

Not trusting myself to talk, I nodded instead and quickly returned my shopping cart to the rows of carts just inside the store. When I came back out, Will was in the driver’s seat. Reaching across, he popped the passenger door open for me.

“We can switch places if you’d rather drive.”

Shaking my head, I practically threw myself into the seat of Will’s truck and yanked the door shut before I could change my mind.

My hands fumbled the seatbelt, and Will ended up helping me slot the buckle into place.

The sound of it locking made me flinch like it was a gunshot echoing in the silence.

I gripped the door handle and forced another deep breath into my lungs. “Can you roll the window down?”

“Yeah, no problem.” The window started to roll down and then the truck began to move. The sudden motion made my stomach lurch, but I leaned toward the window and sucked in a lungful of fresh air.

“Where are we going?” Will asked as he slowly made his way through the parking lot toward the exit.

“557 Spalding Avenue.”

“I know that building.”

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and then it squeezed, reassuring me without words.

If I could have gotten away with it, I’d have clung to Will like a frightened child.

The comparison wasn’t far off. Avoiding vehicles since the accident hadn’t been the best move, but it had been necessary.

I’d made do, but eventually I knew I’d have to face things head-on.

The first few minutes of the drive I spent with my eyes closed. Bile rose up in my throat, and I concentrated on swallowing it down time and again even though it felt like I was drinking battery acid.

“Almost there,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. It was probably the voice he used on little kids who got their heads stuck in railings and other random places.

The truck came to a stop, and I peeled my eyes open when the engine cut out.

“You made it.” Will’s smile was blinding and earnest. It was a stupid thing for him to be so happy about, but at least that made one of us. “How do you feel?”

Like the world’s biggest loser. Like an idiot for being scared for so long without doing anything tangible about it. “I’m—” I took a breath and let it out slowly as I gathered myself and thought about how I wanted to answer. “I’m better than I thought I would be.”

Will yanked his keys from the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Come on. I’ll help you carry everything inside.”

I lived on the second floor of a three-story building.

It was an older structure that had recently gone through a renovation to update the security doors and replace the elevator.

It wasn’t anything fancy, and it was a bit on the pricey side, but the proximity to my new job had been a factor in deciding to move in.

The unit wasn’t anything special. Galley kitchen right at the front.

It opened up to the main living area next.

A decent-sized living room with a balcony.

Another hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom doors.

It was an unremarkable place with an unremarkable view that looked out over the street.

I’d unpacked, but it still didn’t feel like home yet.

Will set the groceries on the counter and started pulling them out of the bags.

“You don’t have to help with that.” I tried to argue, but he just looked at me and shook his head.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

I envied the way he moved through the world.

Confident in who he was and what he liked.

If I’d ever felt that way, it hadn’t been recently.

The accident had robbed me of my friends and my sense of self somehow.

It was like part of me had been lost in the wreckage, and I was only now realizing it.

But now that I knew, I could do something about it.

I slid in next to Will and helped him unload the bags onto the counter. “Thanks.”

He glanced at me and winked. An unexpected thrill shot through me at the gesture, and I couldn’t begin to understand why. Or why I liked it whenever our arms would brush up against each other.

“Are you off today?”

“I go to work tomorrow morning. Why?”

I stared at the piles of groceries on my counter. “Want to stay for breakfast? We’re having… whatever you help me cook.”

“I think I can do that.”

Knowing that Will was going to stick around for a while longer loosened a knot of tension in the pit of my stomach.

It wasn’t until the groceries were put away and the coffee was done that I realized the reason I was lighter and less tense was that I wasn’t as lonely.

I almost felt guilty for being grateful the loneliness was gone, even temporarily, but I was able to shake it off and just enjoy Will’s company. It was nice to have a friend again.