Reach

Chapter Twenty One- Dahlia

Roy constantly feared his promises were empty. He wanted to mean it, he wanted it so desperately to be real, yet still it felt forced. Was he truly okay? Roy was uncertain. Even after six glasses of beer, Roy wasn't sure if he had convinced Dade, or himself. It could've been well empty, well hollow. Roy knew very well he would never be who he once was, and that was one thing he needed no convincing.

"I'm proud of you, Dade," Roy said. "For what you've done. How you are."

Dade shrugged. "I'm still me."

"How's your sister? Is she still living here?"

"Dahlia is quite fine. Her boy popped the question not too long ago."

Roy sighed. "That's so good."

"She said yes too."

"She'll probably move out then, I reckon."

"Very soon. She should be home from working any time now."

"Working, huh?"

"It's a world, isn't it."

Roy nodded. "I had someone."

"Was she pretty?" Dade asked.

"Stunning," Roy answered. He wasn't sure if he was consciously referring to Alice or MacKenzie. Either one, he supposed.

"What happened?"

"It just didn't work."

"Shit happens, Roy."

"Oh, trust me," Roy agreed. "I know."

"Bitterness is hard to resist but you can resist it."

"Possibly."

"You're okay with me staying here tonight?"

"You and I both know you're far too drunk to..uh, roll."

"That's fair."

"No but really. It's fine. We bought a new couch. Let me show you."

"It's getting late anyway. Ah, I remember your house."

The French doors opened up to the familiar back porch and Roy smiled remembering old times.

"You get to sleep, Roy. I know I am."

"Thank you. Really, Dade."

He smiled. "Stop thanking me."

Roy chuckled in agreement as Dade shut the door to his bedroom.

Roy once again found himself alone with his thoughts. His clothes suddenly felt too tight, too hot. It was as if this was some sort of separation anxiety, but Roy couldn't tell if it was from Dade, or the women on his mind. He rubbed his eyes and remembered the half empty carton of cigarettes he had brought along with him. Fishing in his sweater pocket he retrieved the lighter and wheeled out onto the back porch. It was pitch black besides the dancing light of the weak lighter almost empty it would barely catch the cigarette. Roy took a long drag and closed his eyes. A calming sound of night creatures graced his ears. The ringing of nature, inviting. Nothing like the streets of LA. Far away from any city. Scuffles in bushes. The gentle breeze. A second of bliss, if any at all.