Page 6 of Margins

“As in Edgar Allan?”

“Exactly. Figured you might appreciate that given your little book haul yesterday.”

“Black dog. Raven might’ve been a more obvious choice, but Poe is a perfect step sideways. He yours?”

“He is now. Was my grandpa’s until he passed away two years ago.”

That helps pull at least one blurry mystery into focus. “Sorry to hear about your grandpa. Was this his house?”

“Yep. My brother and his family lived here for a while after he died, but then Austin got a job up in the Bay Area and they moved away, and I’ve sort of been tasked with getting the house cleaned out and ready to sell.”

“You said yesterday that you wished you lived here. Why don’t you?”

“Kind of a big place for just Poe and me,” Elijah says, and Alex doesn’t argue that the dog already puts Elijah a step ahead of where he’s at. “There are a lot of memories of hanging out here when I was a kid. Holiday dinners and long summer days and random weekend sleepovers and just—I don’t know. All the good grandparent things, I guess? But I’m not sure I could justify the cost of moving in alone.”

“So, you’re single then?”

“That’s what you took away from all of that?”

“That wasn’t the point you were trying to make?” Alex chuckles, feeling entirely clumsy even when Elijah doesn’t seem to mind. “Seriously though, I can’t tell whether that’s the kind of thing you’d want to broadcast or desperately hide when you’re pulling in all those tips from behind the bar.”

“Hide, usually. My track record with relationships isn’t fantastic. Lots of tries, lots of failures.”

“Ah, well, I just have one big try and one big failure, but it’s still probably enough misery to keep yours company,” Alex offers, more easily than he might have expected.

“Divorced?”

“About to be.”

“And you mentioned your daughter yesterday,” Elijah says. “Guess that makes everything more complicated?”

“Eh, I’m not sure any of it has been complicated for us. Or at least not the way you’re thinking,” Alex admits. “Cassidy and I were best friends for a long time, and that hasn’t really changed. I just think it got to a point where that was all we were, and she needs more than that. She deserves more.”

“And you don’t?”

Alex raises an eyebrow. “Don’t what?”

“Deserve more,” Elijah answers. “I mean, I’m sure marrying your best friend is incredible, but there should be more than friendship, right? You don’t think you deserve that as much as she does?”

It’s not ideal—or maybe it’s perfect timing, actually—but there’s a man who wants all the shoes and coats still available, so Elijah jumps up to get a couple of bags for him, while Alex thinks about how best to answer him without unloading his entire life story. He looks down at Poe, who is steadfastly ignoring him, and he flattens his palm against the cover of the book, like there is any real help to be had there.

If there is, Alex hasn’t absorbed it by the time Elijah falls back into the chair next to him.

“I think I was comfortable with her, or I guess I know I was, and it might have been enough for me to stay that way forever. What I want or need or deserve aren’t really things I’ve considered one way or the other, but being with her didn’t hurt and being alone does, so that’s kind of where I’m at.”

That’s more than Alex has ever said about the divorce, and he’s tempted to ask Elijah to pour him an early morning shot as a way to excuse his honesty, so unfamiliar with sharing his shit with anyone, much less this guy he’s barely met. He doesn't feel as terrible about it as he thinks he should, though, and after another second or two, Alex presses his lips together instead, and he watches as Elijah opens and closes his mouth at least twice before any words make it out.

They’re an interesting pair.

“Your daughter’s doing okay?” Elijah asks eventually.

“Elena. Yeah, she’s—we’ve tried to be as honest with her as possible. And I hope it’s been good for her that there hasn’t been a lot of fighting. Just her dad being too stunned to do anything but surrender.”

“Surrender isn’t always a bad thing, Alex.”

“No?”

“Or maybe I’m too good at it—at letting go. Giving up. Walking away.” Elijah shakes his head, rising again to go help someone else. “Maybe I need to learn how to hold on to something.”

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