Page 49 of Life, Love, and Other Messes

“Was it good?”

“John, did you enjoy your dinner?”

My father chimed in from across the room. “My hamburger?”

“No, your birthday dinner.”

“It was fine.”

“It would have been so nice to have you here.”

Yet were they coming down for my birthday in a week? No. I didn’t want them to, so I didn’t mention it. They never came to visit me. I was the child, so I was supposed to come to their home. I didn’t say anything.

I thought we’d be done then, that she’d have had her fill of guilt-tripping, but she went on about the University of Illinois football team for another twenty minutes. I tried to write as she was talking, but she’d succeeded in derailing me. By the time she was through, frustration was simmering in my stomach.

I knew I needed to set things aside and calm down. I considered going to the dog park, but I felt like I was the one who needed to be running around. I closed up my computer, changed into workout clothes, grabbed a notebook and pen for spur-of-the-moment thoughts, and headed to the gym.

I spent a good amount of time there, especially when it was raining and I couldn’t walk Ollie. I had a Tuesday yoga class that I went to on the weeks I didn’t have therapy and I’d done water aerobics some summers, but the gym proper was my usual haunt. I claimed an elliptical, started some music on my earbuds, wedged my notebook between the controls, and went to work, searching for a speed that I could sustain but would still push me. I was about half an hour in when someone came up in front of me.

At first I thought the guy wanted my machine, but the limit was sixty minutes, not thirty, and anyway, there was another one free. Then, I realized it was my friend Paulie. He’d had long hair the last time I’d seen him and he’d cut it off short and dyed it blue and orange.

Paulie and I had never been super close, but we got along well when we were together. He was sort of a fringe member of the big gay group I used to hang out with, mostly a clubber who was friends with some of the younger guys. “Oh my God, Sam! It’s been forever!”

“It has. How are you?”

“I’m fine. You know. Work and school, wash, rinse, and repeat. What have you been up to?”

“The usual. Writing and teaching.”

“Do you have something in the works?”

“I’m proofreading another thriller right now.” Then, I said it for the first time out loud. “And I’m working on a new romance.”

“Excellent. Hey, Grace is having a party this evening. Are you going?”

I gave him a small smile. “I’m not invited.”

“Oh please, it’s Grace. I’m inviting you. You know she’s okay with that. Come on! Just really low-key, fire pit and snackies.”

“Thanks. I might.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your workout. Good to see you!”

“You too.”

Now, I had something to obsess over. Should I go to this party? Grace was one of the fringe friends as well; she was a tall, broad carpenter whose entire character disagreed with her name. She had been the captain of the softball team during my ill-fated experience, but she had been super nice to me. She was married to Kimmie, who did nails at a salon and makeup for drag shows. It was probably going to be her good friends and a few from the drag crowd, like Paulie. I was a little scared to show my face, but for the first time, I kind of wanted to see those guys. Lisa wasn’t back until late that night and I didn’t have anything on my schedule and I could insert what I’d scribbled in my notebook tomorrow. Maybe I should just do it?

I hashed things over seven million times while I finished my workout, went home, showered, and had a little dinner. What if she’s there? That was unlikely. Veronica and Grace were only friends of friends and Veronica was probably tooling around Europe or some shit on the weekends. Anyway, if I saw her car I could just drive past. No problem.

Grace and Kimmie lived in a beautiful Queen Anne in Midtown between a house that was barely visible behind its pollinator-friendly lawn and a burned-out crack house. I’d only been inside once before. Grace had stripped and refinished all the trim, built bookshelves that matched the original style, and redone the kitchen all by herself. It was the nicest house I’d ever visited. It looked like everyone was in the backyard this time, though, because the gate was open and I could hear music and laughter.

I did not see Veronica’s white BMW parked along the street. At least she didn’t say she was moving to Hawaii, I thought, or she would have had to sell that, too. I left my car in a spot down the block and crunched through the leaves in Grace’s lawn to the gate.

Paulie and Shawn were standing right inside, giggling over something. Paulie’s eyes lit up when he saw me. “Girl! I honestly didn’t think we’d see you tonight, but I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Hey, sweetness.” Shawn gave me a hug and a kiss on my cheek. “We’ve missed you. Here, have a drink.”

Before I could say yea or nay, I was holding a glass of white wine, some of which had sloshed onto my wrist. “Oh, fuck me,” Paulie muttered, setting down the bottle. “I could lick that off of you if you want.”