My glasses are all fogged up and I know my nose is red. I’m not a pretty crier. “It wasn’t like that. We were finished. He was on his way out and met up with some friends, two of whom could not take their eyes or their hands off him. Which is fine. He’s free to date. Or not date. Or whatever. But I don’t need a front row seat to his mating rituals. So I started to hustle out of here, but I forgot to fill out my time card, so by the time I finished that, I was heading out the door when I heard them giggling and dragging him away to the baseball house. And believe me, he was a willing captive.”
Mel’s tearing her muffin apart, bite by bite. “Something’s not right. That’s not the Van I know. I mean, yeah, the guy can party, and he hasn’t taken a vow of celibacy or anything, but this seems odd. According to Will, Van’s either at the athletic center or he’s at the hockey house playing video games.”
“Apparently, that’s gotten boring, and he needed to spice things up.”
“Oh, I’ll spice shit up, all right,” Mel declares. “You said he went to the baseball house, right?”
“Stop,” I tell my best friend. “I already said no to the whole ‘kicking his ass plan’.”
Ever the barista, she gathers our trash and throws it in a nearby bin. “So what? I can’t just go see the baseball team and have a chat with an old friend?”
I laugh. “No, you definitely cannot.”
She folds her arms across her chest. “You’re no fun, Josie.”
“All right,” I concede. “We’ll make a deal. You may not kick Van’s ass, but you can kick Kyle’s. No, that seems harsh. How about this: you can put a shot of espresso in his decaf next time he comes into Drip. How’s that?”
Mel’s face squinches up. “Kyle? Creepy Kyle? Ugh. He’s the worst. He never tips and he always leaves a mess behind. That’s never a good sign. And look, I’ll gladly add caffeine to his drink or pump it full of way too much sugar free syrup, but why? Don’t tell me they’re making you tutor him, too? Didn’t he graduate?”
“He did, but he’s getting his MBA. He stopped by the library tonight and was just being his usual smarmy self. He’s harmless, just annoying. He’s an unsolicited hugger, and you know how that bugs me.”
Mel’s nodding her head. “So annoying. You’d think a guy who’s smart enough to get a full scholarship to college would be smart enough to read a room and take a hint, but sadly, that is not true.”
“Agreed,” I say, gathering my stuff. My phone buzzes in my bag, so I grab it and give it a glance. “Crap,” I mutter, dropping my bag and sinking back into the chair. I press my brother’s name and wait for him to pick up.
“I’m a jerk. I’m sorry,” I blurt just as Levi answers.
“It’s fine, Josie,” he assures me. “I’m just heading to bed, so I wanted to check in before I fell asleep. Hopefully you’re at a kegger behaving very responsibly but also having fun. And using protection.”
I roll my eyes as Mel laughs beside me. “I’m at the library with Mel. We’ve had a wild time. We drank hot beverages and ate bakery treats.”
I hear Levi chuckle. “I’m beginning to think I did college all wrong. Bakery treats are way better than warm, stale beer.”
“No argument here, big brother,” I say, grabbing my stuff and motioning for Mel to follow me downstairs.
Levi clears his throat. “Hey, before I let you go, I have a favor to ask. But you can totally say no.”
“I won’t,” I tell him honestly. There’s nothing Levi could want that I’d say no to. “What’s up?”
“You’re coming home Saturday morning, right?”
“Yeah, like always. Do you want me to do a grocery pickup on my way in?”
I can practically hear him smiling. Levi hates going to the grocery store. “Yeah, that'd be great. But is there any chance you could come tomorrow night? And stay through Sunday? I’ll be home by dinnertime.”
When the kids were really little, I spent nearly every weekend back home. But now that everyone’s a little older (and potty-trained), I spend Saturdays helping out before heading back to campus in the evening or early Sunday morning. But I’ll never pass up a weekend with my family, especially if Levi has something good planned. “Of course. Are you jetting off on a romantic getaway?” Mel waggles her eyebrows at me, and I hold back a laugh.
“Uh…no, definitely not. And who would I be jetting off with? The only woman I see with regularity is my sixty-year-old therapist and she just had a hip replacement, Josie.”
Mel grabs the phone out of my hand and offers her sage wisdom. “Hey, there are other things you can?—”
“Oh my Jesus, please stop talking,” Levi begs.
“Fine,” we say in unison, laughing.
“Actually…I will be jetting off somewhere, but there’s no romance involved. Do you two remember when Cassia stitched my song this summer and said she wanted me to write her next album?”
Mel and I share a look. “Do we remember the number one recording artist in America asking you to come work for her? Yes. Yes, we do, Levi,” Mel answers.
