Page 22 of Margins

Chapter Six

The enlightenment/empowerment/enrichment retreat is not the first one Alex has been on and it’s probably not the last, something everlasting about the newspaper wanting a bunch of strangely competitive introverts to bond over trust exercises and health food. Alex will be among the first to admit that it is incredibly relaxing breathing in the cold mountain air, and he makes a mental note to bring Elena up for a day or two once there’s snow on the ground, but he’s hardly disappointed by the time they’re all packing up to head back home. He’s had so much time to sit with so many things, three quiet days to reflect on his relationship with Cassidy and on her new relationship with Michael and how his relationship with Elena changes a little more each week, a natural shift encouraged by time and circumstance. And all of that has left him with a closer look at himself, a striking awareness of the man he's always been, and the question of what he might want after twenty years of not knowing how to want anything that he didn’t already have.

When they’re gathering up their things in the afternoon, duffel bags stuffed and notebooks closed, his colleagues all confirm plans to meet up that night at a bar a few blocks from their office building. It's a curious tradition established long ago, when someone decided their general desire for solitude had been overcome long enough to allow for one good night of drinking not permitted at the retreat itself. And as everyone else buzzes about the fun they've had in years past, Alex tries not to think too much about how easy it is to tell them he has somewhere else to be, or how badly he wants to be in that other place, away from all of them.

If his goal is really to make more friends, there’s no denying he’s doing a terrible job of it now.

And maybe it’s not all that much of a surprise when Alex’s editor, Steven Liao, pulls him aside to call him out as gently as possible. At the newspaper’s sporadic charity events or holiday parties, Steven’s been the one by Alex’s side most often, their wives hitting it off a few years back, and while he and Steven have never really had a reason to spend time together anywhere else, Alex assumes it would go well. Just like he assumes he would’ve sat near Steven for a beer or two tonight, chatting easily about a dozen different things.

Instead, Steven raises an eyebrow. “Usually when we get blown off with a vague ‘somewhere else to be’ excuse, I figure it’s a way for you to spend the rest of the night at home alone. Tonight? Maybe not so much.”

“Do I bail on you guys that often?”

“Since you and Cassidy separated, mostly,” Steven says. “Everyone still doin’ okay with that?”

Alex kicks at the side of their firepit. “Yes, but that isn’t—I mean, we’re not—I’m not blowing you off to see her tonight.”

“Nah, wasn’t really thinking you were.”

“But you don’t think I’m gonna be alone either.”

“If you’re worried that I’m gonna ask you to write about it, you can relax,” Steven promises, careful even as he teases Alex. It’s why Alex hasn’t tried to run away, and why he doesn’t look elsewhere when Steven goes on. “I don’t need your story at all. But if it has anything to do with why you’ve been walking around lighter than I’ve ever seen you, like maybe you found something you didn’t know you were missing, ditching us tonight is the right call.”

Steven walks away then, like perhaps he wants to prove that Alex doesn’t owe him an explanation, and Alex uses the next minute or two to will his heartbeat into something normal. He’d already made the decision about where to go tonight, but now Alex is wrapped in the why he’s been trying to ignore for a few weeks, and it’s only a car full of people waiting to drive back down the mountain that gets him moving again, daydreams and fears left to wait until he’s closer to the beach.

After they’ve all carpooled back, Alex goes home just long enough to drop off his bag, folders full of scribbled notes, and a book gifted to him by a colleague he barely knows, and then he checks his phone one last time for anything important, everything else swiped away until they’re tomorrow’s problem. His reflection in the hallway mirror catches his eye, and he wonders if he should change his clothes first, his button up left untucked from his jeans, everything just a little rumpled, but he doesn’t want to look like he’s trying too hard, no matter how long that’s been uncomfortably true. He runs his hands through his hair, for whatever good that does, then he locks up behind himself and makes the drive toward the beach, no rain slowing him down this time.

There are no women thanking him for holding the door this time either, and that can’t possibly be a sign of anything, but Alex is relieved anyway, and happy to be alone when he looks up at the bar and then makes his way toward the same table he’d sat at before. Another bartender is working the far side of the room, and Elijah is in the middle of making a drink, but he’s good at his job and quick to notice when someone new walks in and his eyes catch up when Alex is only halfway across the floor, his surprise obvious and his smile immediate.

Alex settles onto the stool and plays around with the menu even if he already knows what he wants, careful not to look up again until a beer slides onto the table, a familiar hand slow to leave the glass behind.

“Welcome back,” Elijah says. “You smell like a campfire.”

“Oh, god, I didn’t even think about that. I mean, I swear I’m clean, but it was cold up there and we had lunch outside today and—shit, I should’ve—”

“Wasn’t a complaint, Alex,” Elijah interrupts.

“Okay, I—you’re sure? I just dropped off my stuff and then came here and I wasn’t—”

He trails off and sighs because it feels like small pieces of himself are falling everywhere only for him to trip over them, and maybe he should blame the mountain air for leaving him lightheaded, but he thinks it might have more to do with the man fully amused by him now.

“I’m very sure,” Elijah insists, his eyes bright whether or not Alex is imagining the exact shade of blue. “What would you like for dinner?”

Alex takes a deep breath and orders, then lets Elijah get back to work while he distracts himself with aimless people-watching, his shoulder pressed against the dark wall while he drinks his beer and waits. He's left alone there too long, or maybe it hasn't been much time at all, but when Elijah returns with a plate in his hand, he studies Alex for a moment and cocks his head.

“Too much enlightenment this week?” he asks. “Or do you think you might find more answers at the bottom of that pint glass?”

Alex hums when he looks down to find half the beer gone already. “Sort of an accidental tradition when we get back. Three days of forced oversharing ends with a bunch of us getting drunk together and dragging ourselves into the office a few hours late the next morning.”

He sets the glass down for the first time since picking it up, and he takes a bite of his burger, knowing all too well that Elijah’s still a step ahead, two plus two solved before Alex had the equation fully out of his mouth.

“But you didn’t go out with them tonight.”

Alex swallows and takes another drink instead of making eye contact. “I did not.”

“I’m glad,” Elijah says, not waiting for a reaction to that before he turns and heads back to the bar.

It’s like that for a while, Alex enjoying his dinner while Elijah works, the buzz at the bar steady but not all that busy on a chilly Wednesday night. They’re able to talk plenty in between, and though they’d texted a few times over the past week, there’s more they can catch up on now. When Alex is all done, everything left empty in front of him, Elijah brings him a second beer, an unspoken invitation to stay, and Alex nods and whispers his thanks before his voice gets a little stronger.

---