I left the office three hours later than I usually would, which meant my phone was already blowing up when I got to my car.
“Where have you been?” my best friend, Olivia, demanded when I answered.
“Working,” I told her. “Like a responsible adult.”
“Do you realize what time it is?” she asked.
“I know. There was a meeting that ran late. I’ll meet you at the bar. Be there soon.”
Olivia and I had made plans to meet up a few days before, but I’d honestly forgotten about it when Quentin asked if someone was home waiting for me. The question was so unexpected, and it seemed so personal it made my mind go blank. But as soon as I saw her name on my phone, the plans popped back into my head and I felt guilty for keeping her waiting. It had been a while since the two of us had a chance to hang out together. Olivia had been off on a trip with her parents spending time with her family before school started up again. She was a high school art teacher who had me in constant awe.
We met up at a bar near my apartment, and I found her already sitting at a table with two beers and a massive plate of nachos. I dropped down into the seat across from her and took a swig of my beer.
“That kind of day?” Olivia asked.
I eyed the nachos, thinking about the tacos I’d eaten with Quentin not too long before.
“Long couple of weeks,” I said.
She wrapped her hand around her beer, and I knew she was prepared. I dove in and told her all about my new job, the complex, and, maybe especially, Quentin.
9
Quentin
When I had looked for a plot of land to build my house on, I had purposefully chosen one with a good amount of distance from neighbors. I worked in a loud and often chaotic business and when I was home, I wanted peace and quiet.
The longer I lived in the house, however, I realized the real benefit of not living close to neighbors wasn’t for me, it was for those potential neighbors. As I stood in the kitchen putting together a platter of snacks, I cringed at the loud voices coming through the sliding doors from the backyard. I didn’t understand how my three brothers and my parents could manage to sound like a frat party, especially considering the sound had to come up a flight of steps and across a large deck to get in the kitchen.
It was family night, and as usual, everyone was gathered at my house. I loved having them there. Really, I did. But that night I was having trouble settling into the relaxation and enjoyment of just spending time with them. My nerves felt frazzled and worn, and stress and anxiety were pumping along my veins. It wasn’t a completely foreign feeling. With the first race of the season coming up, I anticipated being somewhat off my game. I always felt a bit on edge before a race, especially the first race of the season, was coming up. As much as I loved the racing industry and thrived on the adrenaline and fun of races, there was the unavoidable stress and anticipation that came along with them.
This season, I was going to be worried about Greg as well as Darren. Whenever races were looming, I started thinking about everything that could happen, all the logistics that had to fall into place to make sure the race went smoothly and safely. By the time the race came, I’d have worried myself out and would be ready to just kick back and have a good time, but that was still a bit away.
But this time it was different. Usually having a family night would reduce my stress and make me feel better. Spending time with my brothers and my parents always helped to ease anxiety.
That wasn’t happening that night. Having them around not only wasn’t making me feel better, but it seemed to be pushing me further and I hated that.
Carrying the plate of snacks and two beers, I walked out of my house and headed down to the fire burning in the yard below. The temperature was sticky and hot that day, without even a slight breeze to break it up. Not my usual summer evening I enjoyed so much. I had brought down deck chairs and set them up further away from the flames so the heat was less intense. I sat down and set the beers and snacks on a folding table beside me. Taking a deep swig of the beer, I watched the flames jump in front of me, hoping something would click in my head and I’d get out of the funk I was feeling.
A few minutes later, Nick came up and took the chair next to me. He followed my stare and looked into the flames for a few seconds before turning back to me. I continued to ignore my brother, really not feeling like talking. To one side, the other two brothers were playing lawn darts in a way I was fairly certain would result in an emergency room visit, and to the other, my parents were pretending to be casual and not worrying about their grown sons, but occasionally shouting at them to be careful. I didn’t want to deal with any of it and stayed quiet. Maybe if I just stayed that way for long enough, Nick would get the hint and leave me alone. It wasn’t that I necessarily wanted my family away from the house, but I also wasn’t feeling especially social.