Page 85 of Familiar Things New

Andrew’s hands found the floor. He pressed his fingers into the hardwood as he began to cry in earnest.

It’s late, Andrew.

I have to go.

Those words rang in Andrew’s head, only now, it was Edwin who was saying them, in his soft voice that was sweeter by nature than Theodore’s had ever been. And yet, even so, even with Edwin’s gentleness imbued in them, the words were just as painful, each syllable cutting like shards of a broken collodion plate.

It’s late, Andrew.

I have to go.

Theodore had been repulsed by him. And Edwin . . . had he been repulsed as well? Perhaps he hadn’t been repulsed by Andrew—or, not only by Andrew—but by himself for his own proclivities as well. Could that have been the reason for Edwin’s strange behavior whenever they were intimate?

Oh, why had Andrew fooled himself into thinking that he’d found a romantic partner? Of course Edwin couldn’t look past social norms so easily. Of course Edwin wouldn’t want to continue to chance these kinds of things, especially with someone like Andrew—someone so socially clumsy and incompetent. For God’s sake, Edwin had once fretted about an ill-timed handshake. Obviously someone like that—someone who had been worried about a minor social misstep—could never be in a long-term socially unacceptable romantic entanglement of any sort.

Curling his hands into fists, Andrew clenched his teeth and cursed himself for his naïveté.

He proceeded to cry for a long, long time.

Eventually, once Andrew was almost out of tears, he managed to compose himself somewhat. Only to then chastise himself for becoming so emotional.

After Andrew finished drying his eyes with the cuffs of his sleeves, he spotted Edwin’s suit jacket, which was still lying on the floor nearby. Earlier, Andrew had set his new suit on the bed to keep it from wrinkling, but he hadn’t had either the wherewithal or the energy to pick up Edwin’s jacket as well.

Andrew’s hand shook as he reached for it. When his fingertips brushed the olive-green fabric, his breath hitched, and then a heavy sorrow settled in his stomach. He briefly considered leaving it where it was, for he was just so tired, just so exhausted from everything that he wasn’t sure if he even had enough energy to hang it somewhere.

But a part of him really wanted to hold it.

Because who knew when or whether he’d ever see Edwin again.

Before Andrew could lean over and reach for it, there was a knock. Immediately, Andrew scrambled to his feet. He hurried over to the bed, not wanting to seem pathetic for sitting there on the floor.

Andrew called out, “Come in,” in a voice that was hoarse and raw as he sat on the mattress.

Mrs. Meyer opened the door. In her free hand, she was holding one of her saucers and teacups.

“I thought you might like some tea,” she said, but her warm smile vanished the moment she and Andrew locked eyes. “Oh, Andrew, what’s wrong? It looks as though you’ve been crying.”

Blood rushed to Andrew’s cheeks.

“I’ve just been . . . thinking about what happened with Edwin.”

She came farther into the room. He took the teacup from her as she settled on the bed beside him.

“Edwin is very important to you, isn’t he?” she asked.

Andrew nodded solemnly before taking a small sip of tea. Mrs. Meyer hummed knowingly.

“I remember back when we first met, you told me, in a long and rambling way, that you’d lost people in your life,” she said. “Important people. Your family and someone else. Someone who had been a cherished friend to you. And you said to me that you were simply looking for a place to stay for a while. Until your business made enough money that you could rent or purchase a home of your own. I had no idea what might have happened to cause you to have to leave your previous home and neighborhood, but it was clear to me how heartbroken you were about it. And I could sense that, regardless of what those events might have been, you were a kind man. Someone whom I could trust enough to rent a part of my home to.” After a brief pause, she found Andrew’s hand. Squeezing it, she said, “And I was right. You are a kind man. You’ve become like a son to me in some ways. See, I never had children of my own. I couldn’t. And I’m so happy we met, Andrew. Every day, I find myself feeling thankful that it was my house you chose when you were looking for a place to stay.”

Emotion welled in Andrew’s chest, and he sat with her words for a few ticks of the clock.

“Thank you,” he finally managed to say, his throat tightening as he forced out the words.

“Over these last few months, we’ve spent a lot of time together, haven’t we? Initially, it was only because you needed money while I needed a player for my favorite card game. But I think it’s become more than that to both of us. Hasn’t it?”

A smile tugged on Andrew’s lips, and he nodded.

“And in that time, your clumsiness, as you often call it, has never been anything but endearing. So, with that being said, Andrew, I have to say that I have trouble believing a simple social faux pas has caused you to lose yet another person from your life.” Adjusting her positioning so that she was facing him a bit more squarely, she let out a long exhale through her nose, close to a sigh. “Andrew, what happened with Edwin?”