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The cold red metal of Zen’s toy wagon bit through Alex’s gloves as he wrestled it out of the garage. A dusting of snowflakes whirled along the driveway in tiny eddies, never quite coming to rest. With swift motions, Alex secured a large quilt-wrapped bundle into the wagon and began walking.
The job of delivering the rent had fallen on him by default. It was the default that bothered him, or threatened to. Not that he had any problem with running errands, but there was a nagging kernel to the situation that disturbed him–more accurately, that foreshadowed disturbing patterns.
It was rent day and the house was empty. Nobody had asked anybody to deliver the money to Petrioli, though Zen and Summer had both handed him checks and he’d accepted them. Otto and Sushi had not, and it was this that currently occupied him.
Would he inevitably become the father of the group?
And, the more worrying question, did he actually mind?
Alex was made for responsibility. He knew it. Everyone seemed to sense it. All his life, he’d been the grown-up. He had started packing his own lunches by third grade. It was just how he worked.
And so, by instinct and habit, he was solving the rent problem. He eased the wagon over a bumpy patch, mindful of the delicate cargo. If he could convince Eddie to buy his second end table he’d have enough to cover Otto and Sushi until he managed to track them down.
He knew it was an awful idea. Money turns things screwy. Give a man a fish. But evictions aren’t piecemeal and he wasn’t ready to start apartment-hunting again. Options began rushing through his mind, calculations about how much extra work it would take to cover Otto and Sushi on the off-chance they never paid him back, calculations about how to deflect the relational tensions that could arise.
His phone rang. Sushi.
“Hey.” He detected a note of breathless determination in her voice. “I’ve got rent money. Can you meet me at the gallery in about fifteen minutes?”
“Sure. I’m headed there already.”
He slapped the phone shut, feeling foolish.
“Or,” he growled at himself, “you could just treat your friends as if they’re adults.”
