15. Patience Jax

E than was everything I ever wanted in a roommate. He was tidy and left me alone for the most part, but he also invited me to come hang out whenever he left the apartment. Even let me go through things in the store downstairs if he needed help. Though I declined his offer to officially work there so I could get paid, I was happy to help him set up a better tracking system for his inventory. We spent late nights unpacking all the little kitschy items he kept in the display cases and laughed at old George Carlin stand-ups. Since I got first dibs on any great dice sets, he eventually stopped asking to pay me and accepted my assistance for the kindness that it was.

Because of some late trainings at work that just happened to occur on Thursdays, I missed three game nights in a row. Ethan said the group asked after me each time—confirmed when Annie found me coming home just as the third week’s session was ending.

“Jax, where have you been? Are you ever coming back? We start a new campaign next week, so it would be a great time for you to jump in.” Her bouncy, excited tone juxtaposed her dark clothes and unkempt hair, which was shorter than the last time I’d seen her. It made her already petite face even more mouse-like and adorable. “I know I’m not the only person who’s wondered where you went.”

Her light pleads made me smile, and my stomach flooded with warmth, though I silenced my heart’s insistence to guess who she meant. Besides Ethan, who folded the tables and chairs in the back, everyone else seemed to have left already. “I should be back next week. We had a few new employees come on board, and we’re piloting a new database system. It’s taken a while to work out the kinks.”

“Have you talked to anyone else besides Ethan since you last gamed with us?” she asked in an expectant tone that said she anticipated the answer.

The truth was, the person I’d spoken to the most besides my new roommate was the one guy I had no interest in getting to know. Since I didn’t think Rob mentioned our bi-weekly text exchanges to Annie, I decided to keep it private. “Not really. I ran into Tabby not far from my work a few weeks ago, but that’s it.”

She nodded and hummed. Her knowing grin said it all.

Cordelia came out of the bathroom and opened her arms to hug me. Her undercut changed since I last saw her and was dyed bright orange. It peeked out beneath her bouncing, tight curls. “Hey there, you. Thought you disappeared.”

“Not yet. I’m like a fungus. I just kinda grow on you.”

She snickered and put her light jacket on. “You missed a big win tonight. Gavin rolled so well, I think his D20’s loaded. Tabby normally kicks ass with that, but since he lost his lucky ring, he’s had to put his trusty die in the dunce cap chair.”

“Yeah...Cyan mentioned that last time we played,” I said.

Cordelia curled her lip in confusion. “Cyan? Oh, right. He changed it again tonight. But continue.”

I shook my head and sighed in understandable annoyance at his flip-flopping moniker, though at least I was making an effort. “Anyway, yeah. What’s this lucky ring about?”

She eyed Annie, who opened her hand to let Cordy tell the story. “Well, ever since I met Tabby three years ago, he swore his D20 rolls were better whenever he wore this ring. It’s old and made of pewter, I think, ‘cause it’s pretty beat up. He had it every time he played until the first time he brought Rob to our group. All his turns were shit. He almost had to burn one of his oldest characters because of it, but I bailed him out. Since then, until that first time you came anyway, he’s never been without it.” She shook her head and laughed again. “I once told him he was full of it for being so superstitious—guess he was right.”

I felt for Tabby, especially because I did believe in things like that, and his suspicions were proven true with every bad week. “Where’d it come from?”

Annie chimed in. “That’s the thing—nobody knows. He’s never told us.”

I scratched my temple to release the anxious energy built up from curiosity. Mysterious Tabby, once again.

“Uber’s here,” Annie said, pointing to the street. “See you next week, Jax.”

“Bye, girls,” I said, joining Ethan in the back to finish putting the chairs up.

The shop was his pride and joy, and he lived behind the counter more than he did in our apartment. The joyful, circus-like tune he whistled every night while closing proved how much he loved every second of maintaining it. While it wasn’t the Friends -like atmosphere of Chris’s house, the life inside was its own fantasy where anything was possible, and everyone was welcome. It charmed me how he opened the place up on weekends for families to come in with small kids to paint figures or learn how to play basic games. Unlike the many people I knew back home who claimed to be all about social inclusion, Ethan put his money down and made it happen. Associating with him made me proud.

With the last of the tables and chairs put away, we shut off the lights and locked up to go upstairs. The apartment was small, but enough, and neither of us complained about feeling cramped into what was essentially dorm space living. It reminded me of the first apartment I lived in with Chris at college, only we couldn’t leave the door perpetually unlocked.

Once I was settled and ready for bed, my phone went off, heralding yet another call for rescue I didn’t want to answer.

What kinda gift should I get Tabby for

our anniversary next month?

I grumbled and took a deep breath, grateful I wasn’t as close to Tabby as I thought I would be after we met, though Rob’s constant nagging for tips was exhausting. I’ve given you enough material for weeks. Haven’t you actually learned anything?

Swallowing my pride and irritation because Dad’s voice protested too strongly inside, I gave him a curt response.

He lost his lucky ring, didn’t he?

Replace it.

He wrote back quickly, but I could practically feel his icy resistance through the words.

If I get him a ring he’ll think it’s

too serious.

Let me know if you think of

something else

I rolled my eyes. Grow up. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll get right on it, Rob. Sheezus.” Fuming, I put both hands over my eyes and rubbed my temples with my thumbs, hoping to squeeze the undefined jealousy out of my brain when my phone chimed again.

“Christ. What do you want now?” I said, squinting at the screen in the dark.

Missed you at game night tonight.

Hope you come back soon.

Tabby’s message was short and kind. It echoed the attitude Annie had earlier. And like earlier, I floated with heat.

“Fuck,” I whispered, putting the phone down without giving a response, because if we got to chatting, we’d both be up all night. That couldn’t happen. It was torture enough knowing Rob reaped the benefits of my good ideas.

Despite my resistance, I stayed up anyway—every time I dozed, his technicolor eyes got closer—so close I forced myself to wake before dreaming of something I’d regret...