She released a grunt, as if she were afraid I’d say just that. “But thank God, this isn’t the same guy you told me about from high school. I’ve got to admit, other than chickening out on telling you who he is, he’s pretty cool.”
Taking that as her stamp of approval, I took a bite of my salmon.
“So. Did you do it?” she asked chewing on her steak.
“No. He wouldn’t.”
“Hmm…well I’ll give him that. If he’d just tell you the truth, he’d be perfect.”
“I don’t know if it’s because of loyalty to his brother, or if he thinks I’ll rat him out to the magazine, or if this is just August being August again, where he just doesn’t talk to me.”
“New York is a big city, Harp, and you pick the one who’s the exact replica of the guy who broke your heart and can barely speak to you?”
I barely heard her rhetorical question. For the last few minutes, I’d only had one thing on my mind and I needed to get it out. “I don’t even know if I’m seeing him again.”
“What do you mean? Why can’t you call him?”
“He texted me once, when he sent me tickets to the game earlier this week, but I’ve never actually used it to call him. What if it’s got his personal voicemail on it?”
“Right, because this hedge fund math genius didn’t think of covering his tracks.”
We were both quiet for a moment, eating our dinner and I shrugged. “I guess I’ll just wait and see what happens.”
“Harp, look, I’m all for playing the game and living on the edge, but this isn’t you. He sure as hell isn’t going to say anything, so you have to.”
“I feel like I need to know more. Like why? Why is he covering for Troy? Why did he lie to me?” I could tell there was something seriously wrong with Troy when I took him back to his place when he couldn’t tell left from right, but why was August suddenly living his life? I sighed. “How did I get myself into this?”
“Well, let’s see…girl walks into a bar, girl kisses a guy she thought—”
“Yeah, I know how. Thanks.”
“Saturday night, don’t you have plans with friends or something?” Dad asked me when I called to check in.
“No. I hung out with Nicole last night and I only moved here in the summer, I don’t really know a lot of people yet.”
He was quiet. “You know I didn’t send you back to the city to be serving coffee and calling your dad on a Saturday night.”
“I know. I’m getting there. Promise, next weekend, I’ll be partying it up like I’m nineteen again and you had to come pick me and my friends up from the side of road while we were drunk and out of gas.”
“That’s more like it. You need a visitor soon? I can help you move some furniture around. Hang up a few picture frames, or something. Fix a leaky pipe?”
My stomach flipped and I smiled. “I’d love to have you visit dad, but I won’t put you to work.” I knew he needed to feel useful again and that he was still more than capable, but I didn’t need to be taken care of. I just needed to spend time with him. “I’ll be home for Thanksgiving. I’ll cook up a storm, just like last year—we did fine, right?”
“I was thinking of getting away for the holiday. I don’t uh…I don’t think I want to be here. Might go over to Bill’s house and watch a game or something and order takeout.”
“Yeah. Okay, that sounds nice.” I couldn’t force him to try and enjoy a family holiday if he wanted to avoid it. If anyone was good at avoidance, it was Harry Maxwell. He didn’t do well with emotions. And I didn’t blame him.
After we hung up, I made some popcorn, cut up some cheese, poured a hefty glass of wine, and put on The Little Mermaid.
If anyone could cheer me up right now, it was my little crab friend.
My chest ached a little when my phone didn’t ring all night. It was the weekend, he couldn’t be working. There was no game tonight. I hated that I’d checked both game and practice schedules like an obsessed girlfriend.
There was still no action on Troy Hartman’s social media page, not that August has been filling in for him there but who knew with those twins.
I missed him.
By the end of the movie, I wasn’t feeling any better. And the coffee ice cream did little to comfort me, because clearly, I wasn’t on his mind.
