Chapter 11

The day arrived and I still wasn't sure how to feel about this dinner thing. The only thing that was apparent was my dwindling patience. If Peter didn't offer me any answers or explanations tonight, I would raise complete hell. You know, only after dinner and awkward conversation. I wasn't an animal. Hell-raising is reserved for after dessert.

Unlike my sister, I had no hope or desire for a romantic evening. Peter clarified this wasn't a date anyway which made me feel better. He didn't even like me – and I'm sure his absent wife wouldn't either. That's why I wore nothing special. Just a simple blue blouse tucked into my jeans and belt. Despite this, I couldn't help but be conscious of myself. I plucked my brows, tamed my hair until the curls turned into waves, and touched up my make-up. Who knows. Maybe looking decent will make him not such an asshole. Hell, I should probably be more concerned about him poisoning dinner. There had to be some kind of catch, right?

I was still uneasy by the time I knocked on his door. Having dinner with a stalker was not rational. I could hear a lawn-mower a few houses down, which reminded me there were at least other close in proximity. You know, in case I have to bolt out and look for help. My paranoia stayed strong... until I was invited inside. Most of my anxiety vanished – almost unnaturally – the moment he answered the door and I stepped inside.

Peter was dressed casually like me. Jeans, dress shoes, a plain black V-neck. I took note though that he looked more proper and neat though. His darker blonde hair and loose locks were styled away from his face this time, allowing me to see his more lively expression. Wonder how much of it was real.

"I'm glad you still decided to come," he said, closing the door.

Stepping inside, the foyer was wide, with a creamy colored tile under our feet. It dimly reflected the crystal chandelier hanging down from the high ceiling. Like most aspects of the house, it was grand but fitting and modern. Off to the left was a sitting area with a doorway to the kitchen. On the right, there was a small hallway to a few other doors. But in front of us was an entryway to the rest of the house and it was the natural way to go.

He guided me forward down the hall that led towards the living room. I could already feel the awkward tension in the air. Probably just because it was so unusual to not automatically be bickering within five seconds of seeing each other.

"I can't say dinner will be amazing, but you don't seem like the picky-type," he said.

"I'm not picky, but I'm going to try to be today. For someone with such a high-class lifestyle, my expectations are pretty steep," I half joked.

"I didn't realize wealthy men are automatically held up to five-star-dining standards."

"Well, now you know." Ugh, it was so weird just talking, I wanted to cringe!

Since I followed behind him, I was able to see more of his tattoos. With the inked dove on the front of his arm, the wing of it curved around his forearm. It led to the back of his wrist where there were some roman-numerals. I wonder what the significance of those numbers were....

We stepped into the familiar grand living room when the ceiling opened up and rose higher to accommodate exposing part of the second floor. After passing the left staircase, we entered the dining room. There was a dark wooden table that could seat six. The area was less spacious, but had an open layout leading to the glamorous red and gray colored kitchen on the left.

Glamorous under the mess grease that is. Dirty pans and dishes cluttered the stove, but the result looked definitely worth it. Steak, buttered noodles, veggies, and a bowl of salad were displayed on the counter that separated the kitchen from the dining room.

"Man, I don't remember the last time I had steak," I smiled.

"I don't remember the last time I made steak."

"Yeah, you said you don't cook often right?"

"That's right. I hate cooking actually," he said in a matter-of-fact manner.

By the time we made our plates and sat down, I could feel my focus and priority shift. Before, my goal was to get an explanation of everything. That was still the plan, but I wanted to ease into it. So my priority was just to survive dinner without drowning in awkward silence. Which was hard since I was certified in awkwardness.

Sitting across from him, I tried keeping the conversation going, he did not make it easy. "You know, for hating to cook, you did great actually on the steak," I said after my first few bites.

"Thanks. It's mostly the dishes I hate honestly."

"Oh. I actually don't mind dishes all that much." What do I say now? To the guy who was interested in nothing? "Dishes are one of my favorite chores to do, but I cannot stand vacuuming. You have to pick everything up, do every single room. But dishes aren't too demanding."

He smiled amusingly at his food. "Really?"

"That's just how I look at it. So anyway, if you don't cook, do you just live off of Taco Bell and TV dinners?"

"Jamie is here all the time and enjoys cooking for the both of us."

"Ahh," I nodded, mind scrambling to think of something, anything to keep this conversation going. After a few more seconds of silence, I asked, "You live here all alone then?"

"Mhmm."

"If you live alone... why do you have such a big house?"

"Why wouldn't I if I can afford it?"

"Well, it's just a large space. A lot of upkeep just for one person. I don't know, I just couldn't see one person making use of every room and all this extra space. Plus, isn't it lonely?"

"Like I said, Jamie's constantly here and he lives close by," he said, taking a bite.

Ugh, that's all I get?! Now what? "So, um, what kind of music do you like?"

Grinning, his brown gaze rose to me. "You really can't handle the silence can you?"

I didn't expect his words. Mainly because he was right. Glancing down to the table, I sighed. "I'm just trying to make dinner not feel so... awkward."

"Why do you feel awkward?"

"Gee, I don't know. Maybe because I'm having dinner with a weirdo I barely know that doesn't like me."

"You're just nervous and need to relax," he said, casually taking one more bite of steak before resting back against the chair. Unlike me, he was as comfortable as ever. "Here, I have a challenge for you. Try not to speak or say anything, not one single word, for one full minute. Being you, however, I'm not sure if that's possible."

I couldn't help but scoff at his jab, but I honestly wasn't sure if that was possible either. Sitting in silence didn't sound pleasant, but I accepted his challenge. For a full minute... I said nothing.

Honestly, it was difficult. When I'm anxious, I tend to fill silences with small talk. It was just a nervous response I always had. Plus, he never acted this civil before. Now that he wasn't getting on my nerves, I wasn't sure what to really talk about. More so, it just made me feel awkward about this whole thing. So yeah, being silent was hard at first.

Peter took a sip of his water, casually checking his watch. I wanted to speak instinctively, but I stuck with my objective, allowing the tense and thick air to surround me. I took in the dining room, his brown eyes, and the growing amusement on his face. He must be able to tell how awkward this was for me. But ironically enough, his amusement (and this silly challenge itself) helped cut the tension and break the ice.

After my minute was up, he resumed eating. "Times up. That wasn't bad now, was it?"

"No, but you'd rather sit in silence than talk to me?"

"I'd rather speak to you without you feeling the need to fill the silence. You don't need to be nervous. Like I said. This is only dinner."

This wasn't only dinner. There was no way this was only dinner. But he was sure acting like he had no other motive. He was acting like he didn't hate me either (which was nice but suspicious). Sure, he still seemed disillusioned and uninterested, but for once, he wasn't being an asshole. I had to wonder if it was a front, especially when he asked something I didn't expect. As if he actually curious about my life.

"What really made you move out here? You can't say school. There are colleges everywhere."

"Well, school was my ticket and excuse to move here. I've always wanted to travel more and for some reason was always drawn to the west coast."

"Moving across the country is a little more than just traveling." Having a less forced conversation helped engage his interest more I think. His attention was more alert and he actually seemed interested in my words for the first time tonight.

"I didn't have the most exciting life back home. Then after I graduated, I was finally able to put my needs and wants first. What about you? Jamie said you guys moved here a while back."

"You couldn't put your needs and wants first before?"

"Other things took priority," I said, sipping my water.

"You mean other people's wants and needs took priority?"

Was it that obvious? That I was that selfless? "Exactly," I admitted.

"That's a little fucked up."

"Well, I'm not a selfish person who only thinks of themselves," I said a little sharply.

"Taking care of your needs first is healthy, not selfish," he said, taking another bite.

I didn't disagree with him, but he had no context – and I was absolutely not giving him any. It wasn't often I delved into my troubles back home, so opening up to my stalker about it was definitely off the table. Especially since he already seemed to have me pegged. The man just correctly guessed that I put everyone else's needs first.

"Every situation is different. Anyway, why did you and Jamie move here?" I asked again, hoping this time he would answer.

He observed me with subtle amusement for a second before looking away. Thankfully though, he allowed us to move the subject to him. "Jamie and I grew up in a city along the coast further north. When we moved, we just couldn't part with the ocean. Behind this house is a river that leads directly out to it, so we are still close enough."

"Huh. I didn't realize this mansion of yours was also water-front property. You must sell ass or some premium cocaine to be able to afford this place," I teased.

"I'm an architect actually. I design layouts for houses or condominiums in developing areas or upcoming subdivisions. Not as exciting as being involved in the drug or sex trade," he added with a smirk.

"An architect. You be makin' it rain then with dem fat green stacks?" I joked.

"What?"

"Green stacks? You know... money? You make a lot of money." I couldn't help but cringe at myself. My dorkiness tends to come out often – or rather it cartwheels into the room uninvited. Thankfully, he wasn't annoyed like I expected (since I seemed to annoy him often).

He fought a smile. "Yes, I be making lots of dat mu-la." I appreciated his word choice, even if his tone didn't have as much pizzazz as mine.

"Does Job-less Jamie mooch off you and your riches often then?" I chuckled.

"No, believe it or not, he does have his own money. He sometimes works with me on projects or his uncle. It's not often, so he's lucky he gets as much of a cut as he does. Enough to where he can easily afford his own place and be as comfortable as me." He paused in thought. "Anyway, we love the water – and I love the majesty of big houses – so moving here was perfect for us."

It was civil conversation (one I found rather nice for once). But though I was relaxed, I knew better. I wasn't as innocent as our chat seemed. Peter claimed this was just dinner, but it couldn't be after all the shady shit that has happened. So, now that I was more calm, I figured it was time to ease towards my objective.

"That's nice you both stayed close to the coast when you moved. I figured when I moved here, I would love the water too. I've always been drawn to the ocean, but ever since I finally went swimming in it, I haven't been able to go back in."

"Yeah, Jamie mentioned that something happened when you guys went to the beach. You felt grabbed or something...?"

As if he didn't know the specifics.

"Something grabbed me, pulled me further out, and I almost drowned." Sipping my water, I gave him a pointed look. "It was probably me being delusional, right?"

"I wasn't there. I can't say what happened. However," he said, pursing his lips. "Some... mysterious things tend to happen in the water. You don't always know what's lingering in the dark."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, watching him intently.

We were finally getting somewhere, but he remained cautiously along the outskirts. Relaxed in his chair, Peter blankly stared at the table. "It means be careful. It's a small town, but not that small. There are dangerous areas."

"You mean the ocean is a dangerous area?"

"Sometimes."

"Sometimes?" I rolled my eyes. "Jesus, you sound like my dreams. I'm tired of riddles and vague responses. They just confuse me and don't give me any real answers."

His eyes shot up and became fixed in mine. "What kind of dreams?"

"It doesn't matter. What's going on around me?" I was getting impatient. The dude implied there were dangerous things around, but wouldn't elaborate! I pushed my plate aside, leaned forward, and rested my arms on the table. "Why are you following me? Why did you invite me to dinner? You don't even like me."

Silence filled the air, but this time, I didn't have a nervous need to fill it with small talk. We just stared at each other across the table. Lounged against the back of his seat, arms crossed loosely, he gave nothing away. Yet, he wasn't the type to give anything away. Peter didn't wear his thoughts or emotions plainly on his face. He kept a stone and simple front – but it was absolutely a front and that was for sure. Why else did it take the man such a long moment to respond?

Despite his calm demeanor, his nonchalant tone disappeared when he finally spoke. "Josephine. You need to learn to just... look the other way." The air was growing thicker. A seriousness grew in his eyes as he continued in a slower voice. "My life is complicated and yours doesn't need to be. That's why I can't give you the answers you want. Not because you don't deserve them, but because it's in your best interest."

I gawked at him. His words were an achievement, yet also a slap in the face. Yes guys, it was relieving to finally have confirmation that he knew of the unexplainable things happening. There was finally acknowledgement from him... but not for the reasons I wanted and needed.

"You want me to be knowingly ignorant? You want me to pretend it's normal to have a broken leg one night then a healed one the next?"

"That's not what I want. But that's what needs to happen. I would rather you not have any awareness of what's happening, but unfortunately I can't help that. So... you have to learn to look the other way."

Did I hear him right? He wasn't denying the truth anymore... but was instead ignoring it and asking me to do the same? 

I wasn't done prying at the stubborn man. Trust me, I would have happily let my temper fully blossom into a rage. But our delightful dinner was interrupted. A slam echoed through the house. It sounded like the front door violently slamming followed by fast footsteps.

"Shit," Peter muttered, rushing out of his seat and past me into the living room.

Turning in my seat, I watched him bolt towards the sound in the foyer. However, the source ran into the living room and met him half way. It was Jamie. What—? Oh god! What happened to him?

Rushing up and gripping onto his brother's arms in panic, his own showed cuts and bruises. His clothes were torn and dirty, his wavy hair a mess! Tears streamed from his desperate eyes. "Fuck, please, please, get rid of it, get it out of my head, please, please," he belted out, hand sliding down to grasp his brother's fingers in his. "Get it out, get it out, please—"

"Not now," Peter exclaimed, whipping his hand away and stepping back.

Jamie's bewildered face showed confusion... until he glanced into the dining room and saw me. He quickly turned and looked away. "Shit," he groaned.

I didn't realize it, but I already stood up from my seat and turned to face them. "What happened?"

Jamie shakily cupped his face. "Goddamn it, I didn't know she was here. I'm sorry," he groaned out through his bared teeth against his palms. "Please, please don't be long, please, please, please, I can't take it. It was so fucking bad," he mumbled, turning and retreating upstairs.

Once again folks... what the fuck?

Peter's just stood there, as if trying to calculate how to proceed. As for me... I was just stunned. What happened to Jamie? What was he begging for his brother to do? He was so upset, so shook up, what possible relief could his brother even provide? I wanted to help him, but after a moment... my sympathy was easily ignored. The big picture was slapping me in the face.

This added to the mountain of strangeness and questions. It added one more thing to the list of unexplained things that contradicted what I was told. I had a good feeling there would be no explanation for this either. But it made me realize something too. I wasn't just being intentionally left in the dark. I was in way over my head.

Staring at the floor, I finally spoke. "Construction project, huh?"

Walking back over, Peter met my eyes with a firmness. "Yes. Jamie was out of town helping his uncle with a construction project. Do you understand?"

I knew it. I knew his reason for leaving town was now a lie – and that I wasn't going to be getting the truth. Zero explanation for yet another strange incident. 

Tightening my jaw, I stepped closer until I was two feet away from him. "It clearly doesn't matter if I understand. After what just happened... you still have the balls to not explain one single thing to me? Not just about this, but about anything I've experienced?"

Peter studied me. While still stone and stern... there was a softness in his voice. "I can't. You aren't delusional, you deserve answers, yet I can't give them to you. I... hope you are able to see I'm not dangerous and not a threat to you. But believe me when I say you cannot know."

"Out of everything.... You following me, running into me constantly. What happened in the ocean. The car accident, the hand thing, my healed leg. Having me here for dinner and now this. Nothing?"

"I'm sorry. That's just how it is."

He didn't want to elaborate anything. For some reason 'I cannot know' any of it. It made my next words were automatic. "I'm done with your games. Then next time you 'run into me,' I'm calling the police. That's just how it is."

***

I probably should be more fearful than pissed-off, but after that night... I couldn't get a grip on my frustration. I kept wondering so many things, allowing myself to jump into strings of theories that made me want to rip my hair out. Was Peter trying to protect me from something? Or was he the one after me? Was this all a set up to stalk me and scare me? What if he just had illegal methods of healing? Maybe he actually was a drug dealer. I didn't fucking know.

It bothered me enough that I even did some research on Peter and Jamie. I looked up their names, looked on social media, even went to the damn library to find any information relating to them. Yet, I didn't find much at all. Nothing that was strange or unusual. However, the fact that I didn't find much... that itself was strange to me.

Out of all my digging, I couldn't find anything at all on Jamie. Nothing. No information, no prior anything. I did find Peter's public information at least. It said he moved here seven years ago. Yes, how ground-breaking. I was really close to all the answers I wanted now! Jesus, I would have fucking settled for a relative's obituary at this point! I did find a few small ads for his architect work, but it was years old and the information was vague. I did write down the phone number on there and tried calling. Guess what? The line was dead. Shocker. I guess that was one more mystery: how in the world did he make money when you couldn't even hire him for his services?

I couldn't find anything. And unlike some people, I wasn't going to resort to spying and stalking (though I did consider it). I just had to start accepting that I may never know. I had to try and make peace with it. If nothing else crazy happens to me, I might be able to leave my questions behind. Let's just hope we don't 'coincidentally' see each other anytime soon. I wasn't bluffing when I mentioned the cops.

Jamie had more merit than his wacko brother, but I avoided him too. I wasn't sure how much of the bullshit and mind games had to do with him. So, when Jamie asked me to hang out a few days later, I declined. I wanted to distance myself from my antsy need for answers. Instead, I kept reminding myself how grateful I was to now live in such a beautiful place.

Despite the drama and almost dying twice, I was still happy to have moved here. I did more hiking, running, exploring. I was becoming more comfortable with my coworkers. And despite our differences, Liz and I were getting along too. She even kept her word and helped me buy a new car – a gray Subaru Outback. That, along with it being an older model, made my wallet feel a little better. Affordability: it's what makes a Subaru a Subaru.

It's been days of nothing but normalcy, which was refreshing. Even the next dream I had was better than the previous few. Like the other dreams, it was insanely vivid and clear, but there was no man standing in my corner this time. And no bedroom for there to be a corner. It was just... a place.

There was a small parking lot in some kind of industrial area. The brick building on the left looked abandoned with cracked windows and weeds crawling along the edges of it. Four lamp posts lined the side of it in the narrow parking lot, with the furthest one back was flickering. Behind the building and small lot was a chain-link fence that was in a deteriorating state. Numerous train tracks were lined in the far distance behind it. There was a dumpster, a rusted and broken down truck, and a small cinder-block shed to the right of the lot. That's all there was. Just an... abandoned and neglected area.

Though it was vivid, it wasn't startling, wasn't anything crazy. It was just an area that I was wandering through. It was a simple dream – until something proved it was more the next day.

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Sorry posting isn't as frequent as I had hoped. I'm starting a new job and it's pretty demanding. But I'm not exaggerating, I think about this story all the time and constantly keep wanting to keep rolling with it! I am just so excited about all my ideas for it. 

So thank you for reading and thank you for taking the time to do so! I appreciate it more than you know :D