AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I wink at Ian, and his cheeks turn a pale shade of red. A bright red splotch appears on his neck.
Bill laughs and introduces us to his friends, and we introduce him to ours. He offers everyone drinks, and while Mac and Jessie each take a beer, Ian appears beside me with a can of Diet Coke in his hands.
“When did you get this?” I ask. I didn’t even see him disappear—I thought he was next to me.
“Just a second ago.” He gestures to a second cooler closer to the car, red Solo cups on top of it. “And I put whiskey in the cup in case you don’t want to be entirely sober.” He holds up the Solo cup and jiggles it, making the ice clink around inside.
“And if you do want to be sober, then I’m happy to drink it,” he says.
“Are you a brown liquor kind of guy? I really had you pegged as, like, a craft beer guy,” I say.
“I do love a craft beer,” Ian admits with a smirk. “But you don’t come across those a lot in these settings.” He gestures to the tent and the parking lot. “And my dad is a whiskey guy, so . . .”
“Ahh.” I nod, understanding. I can’t wrap my mind around wanting to be anything like either of my parents, so I don’t relate, but I get why Ian likes it. It’s easy to picture young Ian dressing just like his dad, copying him on the golf course, wearing an apron in the kitchen because his dad did, asking for mini versions of the same tools his dad would use to fix things. It’s endearing to think about, and it makes me wish I could look through a scrapbook of Ian’s life and see him at every age.
I take the cup from him and pour in my Diet Coke, swirling the liquids around together. I do want to be sober, but one drink won’t even scratch the surface. It’s mostly Diet Coke anyway. I hand Ian the can, and it clinks against the other cans in the recycling bag when he throws it in.
We rejoin the conversation Bill is having with Mac and Jessie.
“I don’t think I caught it—what did you say you were majoring in, Jessie?”
“Psychology, like Mac,” she says with a big, friendly smile.
Jessie is good with parents. If I weren’t such a coward, I’d be proud to introduce my mom to Jessie. It’s my mom that I don’t want to introduce to anyone.
“You guys aren’t theater kids too?” Bill asks his son.
“Mac is in an acting class!” Jessie says like a proud parent. She’s definitely more proud of Mac than his dad is. Which isn’t saying much, because according to Jessie, he’s a pretty big asshole.
Mac’s face lights up in a way that only happens when he’s talking about Jessie or his theater class. “Yeah, I’m taking an Intro to Acting course this semester. Hoping to take Intermediate Acting next semester. I’m having a blast,” he says.
“That’s great,” says Bill. “I wish I’d taken an acting course when I was here. I was a business major, and it was all work and no play. I feel lucky that Ian got me into theater. Did I tell you I’m in the upcoming play?” He turns to Ian. “Oh, what’s it called . . .” He snaps his fingers a few times as if that will jog his memory.
“You Can’t Take It Home?” Bill says, not confident.
“You Can’t Take It with You?” I say at the same time as Ian.
Bill points to both of us, childlike joy on his face. “That’s it! Thank you!”
“Is that at the Red Barn Playhouse where that job is?” I ask Ian, taking a sip of my drink, but I realize it was the wrong thing to say when Ian pinches his lips together and gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head.
“Job?” Bill asks.
Ian squeezes his eyes closed for a split second. He hasn’t told him. I thought he would have told his dad by now, close as they are.
Shit.
“Yeah, there’s a position open at Red Barn for a technical director that I’m thinking of applying to.” He doesn’t sound excited about it, but his dad doesn’t seem to read that.
“Did you talk to Robert? Did you want me to talk to him?” Bill starts to pull out his phone like he’s going to do it right now. And I bet he would, but Ian holds a hand out as if to stop him. With the other, he clutches his Solo cup just a little too hard. The cup crinkles under the pressure of his fingers.
“Yes, yes, we talked. He was here not that long ago. We got lunch.”
“How’d it go? Tell me everything!” Bill cannot be contained, and this is where I see a huge difference between him and Ian. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ian this level of excited for anything. I’m not even sure he’s the kind of person who shows excitement like this. This is more like Mac—golden-retriever energy. Ian has black-cat energy, aloof and quiet.
“Yeah, I mean, it was fine. You know, he said if I wanted the job, it was mine to take, but I’m still thinking about it. He gave me until the end of the semester.” Ian stares into his cup, taking a big drink after he’s done talking.
“Ian, what a great opportunity. You would be such a great tech director. Think how cool it would be to work together again—the Davidson boys, back in action!” His dad gives him a light punch on the arm.
