Page 11 of Margins

“Which part?”

Which part? Alex doesn’t know what that means and definitely isn’t brave enough to ask.

“I mean, it’s your family, right? Or it probably is. I just don’t want to be creepy about something they kept so private.”

Elijah laughs. “If it was about my parents, I’d probably bail because yeah, no. But this is pretty far back, and I don’t think I’m in danger of major trauma.”

“Okay, so then if you wanted to meet up next week—are you always off on Mondays and Tuesdays?”

“I am, yeah. Or usually, anyway, and I—” Elijah clears his throat and Alex waits. “Meeting up then would be good. Did you just want to come to my place or—”

He trails off and Alex wants to give him time to say more, but everything is both quiet and loud and he doesn’t like it either way, his voice shakier than it should be when it splits the difference.

“Or you can come here. Whatever’s easiest for you. Although, you’ve got—or wait, I guess Poe must be okay hanging out alone every night when you’re at work? But I mean, if you don’t—I can always—”

“No, it’s okay, I—my neighbor. She sort of—” Elijah cuts himself off, though Alex is far from impatient. “It’s a long story, but Poe’s totally fine when I’m not here.”

“So, you’ll come here then? That’s okay with you?”

It sounds stupid, all of it, but Alex doesn’t know how to do this, even if he wishes it didn’t have to be that way. He sounds like he did when he first asked Cassidy to go see a movie with him and not at all like someone who just wants to comb through old books for notes scribbled in margins.

“More than okay, yeah,” Elijah agrees. “And do you think—I mean, should we just wait before we read anything else? How much self-control do you have?”

Alex doesn’t know how to tell him his entire life has been self-control, comfortable and careful and not a single risk taken, nor any corners cut. He’s waited forever for everything, and while he’s intently curious now, maybe about so much more than he should be, a week is really nothing at all.

“I can wait if you can.”

“Sure,” Elijah says, and Alex swears he can almost hear a smile. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Chapter Four

The rest of the week passes by like most others, with Alex and Elena heading to work and to school, and catching up over dinner each night, her Wednesday evening art class coming and going and leaving her with a rather large construction paper mosaic to hang on her bedroom wall. They go out to eat at a local pizza parlor every Friday night she’s with him, a thing they’d started when Cass first moved out, and he does his best to consider it less of a way to heal everything that’s hurt for a while and more as something nice he can do for himself and his daughter now. And between that and everything else, maybe more of his time can start to feel like it belongs to him in a way that doesn’t leave him aching to turn it backward.

When Cass had stood on his front porch that past weekend, she’d seemed pleasantly surprised that he was—well, he’s not sure happy is exactly the word for whatever he is these days, but he’s looking forward to the upcoming week, which is something he doesn’t think he’s ever felt when he knows Elena isn’t going to be around.

He loves his daughter, and he misses his wife, but maybe he can have a good time with Elijah, too.

So, Sunday night, he drives Elena to Cassidy’s new place—not all that new anymore, but Alex is still loath to admit how long it’s been already—and he goes home to clean up the typical mess left behind by any nine-year-old, glancing at his pile of books once before he reminds himself there’s only one more day before he and Elijah will look through them together. They’ll read the story of E and P, from beginning to whatever end they might find, and then Alex can figure out what’s supposed to happen next in his own life.

Alex doesn’t want to have to say goodbye to Elijah quite that fast, but if they’re not destined for some kind of friendship, at least he’s had practice at watching someone walk away.

Monday he’s able to keep busy with work, which is probably good for everyone, and absolutely ideal for his anxiety. He had texted Elijah Sunday afternoon to give him his address and a good time to come over, and now it’s only an hour away, the books on the dining room table already, Alex in jeans and a henley that makes him feel like he’s not about to crawl out of his own skin.

When there’s a knock on the door, Alex tells himself not to worry about why it sounds so timid, hurrying to answer it so they can get past these first few minutes.

“Hey, come on in and make yourself comfortable,” Alex offers, mostly because at least one of them should be. “Can I get you something to drink? Beer, soda, juice, coffee, water?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine with me,” Elijah answers.

He’s all the way inside now, the door closed behind him, but Elijah’s still unexpectedly cautious about going far, slipping out of his sneakers but moving nowhere else while Alex tries not to study him all that closely. There’s no hoodie tonight, just a flannel over a graphic tee and jeans, and Alex stops himself from asking what Elijah wears at work because he can’t figure out why it would matter. Elijah’s hair is a bit of a mess, and Alex thinks that might always be true, curls destined to remain especially untamed while Elijah traps his smile between his teeth. And there are two books tucked under Elijah’s arm, but Alex can’t quite catch the titles from where he stands, giving up while Elijah’s eyes scan the living room.

Elijah’s probably lost in the blank space overwhelming the walls these days, so many family pictures gone while the ghosts of them remain, Alex reluctant to paint over memories that he couldn’t hold in his hands if he tried.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll grab the drinks. I put my books on the dining room table, but we can move them out here if you’d rather.”

“No, no, that’s good.”

They both move to get settled then, Alex pulling a bottle of beer from the fridge and holding it up for Elijah’s approval before he grabs a second one and gives Elijah time to sort the books into whatever order they know so far. They sit across from each other, each taking one novel to start, and Alex works to breathe through any awkwardness the garage sale’s fresh air must have swept away.

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