Darling by Brad Hodson

say it, would she feel like they were going nowhere and head off to look for another man? Or would she—
    Stop it. You sound like Mike.
    Mike. He wondered if this was the kind of feeling his roommate walked around with. If so, it was no wonder he was so difficult to be around sometimes. Dennis hated being confused, hated being unsure of himself or his situation. He could see how that would make someone insufferable.
    Pity washed over him and he dialed Mike’s cell to apologize for the day. It rang twice and went to voicemail. Dennis had the same phone and knew what that meant: Mike had seen him calling and silenced him.
    Asshole.
    Dennis pounded off a quick text message:
     
    SOMETHIN CAME UP. GOTTA GO.
    CAN U WALK TO WORK? PICK U UP
    @ MIDNITE.
     
    He never received an answer, but didn’t care; they needed a break from each other. The theater was only a block away from where they were. If Mike had trouble walking there, that was his problem.
    He felt petty and childish, but shook it off. What else was he going to do? Fight it out with Mike? Like that would work. All Mike would do was blame everything on Dennis, not just the driving but everything : moving out, the fight with his parents, the whole thing. Then he would try to avoid him for a week or so while he sulked and nursed his bruised ego. It was impossible to talk to him sometimes. Better just to let it blow over.
    His phone vibrated to tell him he had a text. It was one word:
     
    FINE.
     
    Its tone was clear, blasting at him from the blue LCD screen like Mike had yelled it from across the room.
    He asked if he could get his order to go and left. He pulled out of the parking lot before Mike could see him go.
    When he stopped at a red light, Dennis deleted the text message and tried to pretend he’d never gotten it.
    Eileen did come over that night and went with him to pick Mike up from work. Her presence worked wonders to set aside the day’s tension and the three of them laughed and joked the entire way back to the apartment. She stayed over and, like the few times in the past month that she’d done so, Mike’s behavior was stranger than normal. The mornings were the worst; she’d get up early and make all three of them breakfast, but Mike was unapproachable for the first few hours of the day. He’d get a plate of food, nod an awkward greeting, and retreat to his room. Once everyone had showered and changed and he could forget she had spent the night, everything was fine again.
    She asked Dennis about it once and he shrugged. Deep down he suspected Mike felt it was a betrayal of his sister in some way, but never would have told Eileen that. He worried that she already felt like she was in Allison’s shadow in some way and didn’t want to add to that.
    A storm blew in that morning, but had vanished by early afternoon. It left behind a cool breeze and the day’s heat had difficulty fighting it. Eileen said they should all go swimming and Dennis jumped at the suggestion. To his surprise, Mike was excited about it too, and they all changed into swimsuits and hit the pool.
    It seemed the entire building was out back. Usually everyone was so quiet and private, but the respite from humidity brought them out in droves. A cursory head count made Dennis estimate that nearly thirty people milled around on the concrete patio. They were introduced to a new face every foot or so.
    Carl Petrie and Kurt Hagen roasted hot dogs and burgers on the grill. Carl wore an ill fitting T-shirt and blue jean shorts, while rolls of fat hung over Kurt’s camouflage swim trunks. He smiled at them from under his ball cap. “Y’all hungry?”
    Dennis laughed. “Man, I could eat that whole pack of dogs.”
    “That’s what I like to hear, brutha. Carl, throw some dogs on there.”
    “And why can’t you?”
    “Shit, man. You been eating three-fourths of everthang I cook. Throw some dogs on now, will ya?”
    Carl sliced open a package. “Alright. You folks see what I put up with