“I’m fucking glad to hear it, but why are you sitting here drinking with us instead of professing your love to him?”
I’ve got to hand it to the man. He’s got a point. “That’s a fair question. And I was on the verge of doing just that tonight, while we were working late. But before I could summon the courage, we got interrupted, and he bolted, and I can’t really blame him for being gun-shy. I just don’t know how to get his attention—how to prove that I’m willing to take that leap. I don’t suppose you have a transcript of your earlier interrogation that you’d be willing to send his way?”
“Sorry, darlin’. Grand gestures must be done in person. I’m damn sure that’s a hard and fast rule.”
“You could dress up like Darth Vader and go to his house and challenge him to a lightsaber duel—that’s a thing, right? And then, right when he’s about to fight you, you pull off the mask, tear off the robe and voila—there you are in your skivvies in his living room.” Molly smiles triumphantly, pleased with her plan.
Nick and I both turn to stare at Molly. “Yea, we’re cutting you off.” I say, and start to slide her half-full tumbler closer to the center of the table and out of her reach.
“Hey! Give that back. I’m stone cold sober.” At Nick’s skeptical look, she concedes. “Ok, maybe lukewarm sober. Anyway, I’m the greatest schemer we know, and, as any great schemer will tell you, the element of surprise is key. Add in a little Star Wars, and it’s a done deal. The man’s all yours.”
Nick nods. “I hate to say it, but she’s got a point, minus the whole naked Vader thing. That’s fucked up.”
“JESUS CHRIST, WHAT THEhell is that thing?” Nick’s voice carries a little too far, but the theater is crowded, so no one else hears. Well, no one else but Duncan.
“That hairy thing? I thought it was Chewbacca, but it’s actually an Ewok. I asked. I guess it’s the alternative for short guys?” Dunc responds.
I shake my head. How have we been friends for this long, and they still can’t identify basic characters fromStar Wars?But Tony is pretty short, so the Ewok costume is a far better fit for him. At least Dunc is right about that.
“No, I know what an Ewok looks like, for Christ’s sake. He’s made us watch that movie like twenty times. I’m talking about that, that weird, alien-looking—”
“Admiral Ackbar,” I say. “He was inReturn of the JediandThe Force Awakens, both of which I also made you watch twenty times.”
“No way.” Nick shakes his head. “I totally would have remembered him. Or maybe I blocked the whole thing out.”
“That’s probably it.” Duncan nods.
I roll my eyes at both of them. Yea, they love to tease me about my love of all things Galaxy, but even I’m not feeling it today. And I should be. We scored third row tickets for the original trilogy marathon at the cineplex, and the place is packed with people in various costumes. I’m not much for dressing up, but I am proudly donning my favorite Han Solo t-shirt. It’s Harrison Ford’s face above the iconic line, “I know.”
My choice of clothing is far from cryptic. Yea,Star Warst-shirts are pretty much my go-to, but I chose this one because I’m a lovesick mess. And I know it.
I just don’t know what to do about it.
I spent an embarrassing amount of time with my phone in my hand last night, debating whether to text Elaine.
And an alarming amount of time with my dick in my hand and Elaine on my brain.
Running out of Chesapeake Shores last night was hardly one of my finer moments, but I had to get out of there. Before Dan interrupted us, I was seconds and inches away from kissing her and saying to hell with all our issues and baggage. Her words were so sincere, and I was, as always, stunned by her beauty. We did nothing more than sit next to each other, and yet, the scent of her was making me half-drunk. I wanted to lay her down and lose myself in her for hours, to remind us both of all we’ve been missing, to bury myself so deep inside her that she’d remember what it felt like to be whole.
But Dan’s knock at the door was the cold bucket of water I needed to see reason. As much as I love her, as much as I want to be with her and pretend that baggage doesn’t matter, I just can’t be with someone who wants me to hide or can’t publicly acknowledge our relationship.
Stupid self respect.
It’s sure as hell not keeping me warm at night.
Or making me laugh.
Or calling me on my shit.
“Shhh… it’s about to start,” Bets scolds Dunc and Nick, who are arguing over something, probably popcorn.
The lights dim, and we’re all waiting for Yoda to take the stage. Well, actually it will be a 40-year-old guy named Chris, but you get the idea. He always dresses as Yoda and emcees for these things, so imagine my surprise when the curtain parts and there stands Elaine.
Elaine.
Lainie.
My Lainie, dressed as Slave Leia.
