Page 30 of This Is How It Started
Campbell is in his lumberjack attire. For as long as I’ve known him, he’s dressed the same. Kind of a retro grunge vibe, jeans and flannel shirts. It’s a good thing it never gets terribly warm in San Francisco.
I get him down a mug and fill it from the fresh pot I’ve made. “You want something to eat?” I can probably scrounge up an egg or two. There’s also leftover Russian coffee cake—another gift from Josie. I don’t know what I’d do without her.
“Nah, I ate earlier.” He looks around the apartment. “We taking all this?”
I shake my head. “Just the stuff in the bedroom.”
He wanders through the apartment, sipping his coffee, perusing one of the bookshelves where Josh’s architecture books are lined up according to height. Without even looking up, he says, “You’ve lost weight.”
“A little bit,” I say without meeting his eyes. Ordinarily, I’d take his statement as a compliment, but that’s not the way he means it. His tone is filled with concern.
“This move, you think it’s wise?” Now he’s just being downright polite, because we both know the real question is “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
I drop the act and let out a long sigh. “I can’t stay here anymore.” My eyes well up, and Campbell nods in understanding. He starts to reach for me, then immediately lets his arms drop to his sides.
We both pretend like it didn’t happen.
“My mother is redoing her two bathrooms, so her place is out of the question. And Adam and Hannah have their own stuff going on. Brooke works nights, and I work days, so we’ll keep out of each other’s hair.” It is true that Brooke works nights. After my father died, she left his practice and went to San Francisco General.
“Josie says you and Jess are looking for a house,” I toss out, hoping to change the subject. It’s been at least a month since Josie mentioned Campbell’s real estate hunt. For all I know, they’ve already bought a place and have moved in.
“We gave up.” Campbell wanders back to the kitchen, tops off his coffee, and watches me over the rim of his cup. “Nothing in our price range that Jess is willing to live in.”
I can’t really blame her, especially because they have a cute rent-controlled apartment with a small yard that’s walking distance to great restaurants and BART. To buy something equivalent would cost a fortune.
“You could buy a fixer, flip it, and get something better,” I say and then tell myself,Thanks, Captain Obvious.Campbell is a gifted carpenter. He can build or repair anything. And if that’s what he wanted to do, he would’ve done it by now.
“Yeah, I’ve thought about it. But anything worth fixing has half a dozen bids on it before a for-sale sign even goes up. I need an agent who’s tapped in.” He continues looking at me. This time, pointedly.
I’m so out of the loop that I’d be doing Campbell a disservice. Not only that but I’m still not ready to dive in yet. “I could recommend someone really good, someone who knows everyone in the city who is even considering selling and does a lot of pocket listings.” I’m thinking of Niki. While we’ve never been on the best of terms, there’s no one better I’d trust to help Campbell.
“Been there, done that.” Campbell rinses out his cup and sticks it in the dishwasher. “If I have even a ghost of a chance of convincing Jess, I need you.”
I’m pretty sure this is all a ruse to get me back amongst the living again. I like Jess, but we’re certainly not close enough for me to have any kind of power of persuasion over her.
“You’d be better served by someone who’s been paying attention,” I say, knowing that this will never go anywhere, and I should just leave it alone.
“I’d be better served by a friend who’s got my best interest at heart.” Campbell gives me another sharp look.
“Can we move now?” I’m wondering how long someone can remain in a loading zone without getting towed, and the last thing I want to talk about is real estate for more reasons than I care to count.
“Yep. Show me what you’ve got.”
Over the next hour, Campbell lugs a closet load of clothes, a small dresser and a bathroom full of toiletries to his truck while I wait at the curb, making sure no one steals anything. Whatever he doesn’t fit in the bed of his pickup, I’ll schlepp over in my car, even if it takes a few trips.
Campbell still turns the ladies’ heads. Twice now, women have stopped in their tracks to watch him load or stare at his butt. Oblivious to being ogled, he’s quick with a smile and a classic dude nod.
“You want to meet me over there or ride in the front?” My overly large suitcase occupies the passenger seat, so I have no idea how I’ll fit.
“I’ll meet you.” I look at my watch. It’s a little after noon and I worry that Brooke is sleeping before she has to start her shift. I don’t want to get off on a bad foot with her. I’m there only by the grace of her goodwill. The minute she revokes it, I’m out on my ass.
I watch Campbell secure the load and drive off before I go into the garage for Josh’s old Accord. I haven’t driven since the accident, and I suddenly wish I’d taken up Campbell’s offer to ride with him.
You can do this,I tell myself even as I break into a sweat. It takes me ten minutes to work up the nerve to start the ignition. I’m not having any kind of flashbacks, but just sitting in the driver’s seat gives me palpitations, and the air seems too heavy to breathe.
I inch my way to the automatic gate, lurching forward every time my foot presses the brake. As a carrot, I remind myself that it’s only a five-minute drive to Pac Heights. I make it onto Fillmore without hyperventilating, but traffic is denser than I would’ve thought for this time of day. Still, I soldier on.
Someone cuts me off and flips me the bird. I look down at my speedometer, and I’m only going eight miles an hour. Wow, it feels faster. I don’t speed up, though, and behind me someone leans on his horn. I have a mind to slam on my brakes, get out of the car and ask the driver if he’s ever watched a person he loves die of a brain hemorrhage. I don’t, of course. It takes all my concentration to make it to Union. By the time I pass Wildseed, I’m considering stopping the car in the middle of the lane, leaving it there, and walking away. There are too many vehicles on the road, and everyone seems to be speeding.
