I never knew how quiet this apartment could be, or how much I could ache for a sound.
* * *
“Zach, my man!”
My friend Dylan claps one of his giant hands on my shoulder and steers us into the diner where we’re getting lunch. Everything about him is giant. The guy is built like a linebacker. He used to work at Taverne Toulouse, where we all referred to him as ‘Beefcake.’
“How’s your hangover?” I can’t help razzing him a little. By the looks of it, he was having a very good time at April Showers last night, and it may have caught up with him today.
“Fucking hell,” he groans. “I’m getting too old for parties.”
“Renee must have had a fun time getting you home.”
He started dating one of our bartenders last year—shortly after resigning as Taverne Toulouse’s kitchen manager. It was a bit of a drama-fueled few months, but everyone who looks at them can tell he and Renee are perfect for each other. Now that Dylan’s at school in Ottawa to study radio broadcasting, I only see him when he comes up to visit Renee.
“Ha,” he answers me, voice dripping with sarcasm. “She doesn’t put up with my shit. Apparently I wanted to wait for her after the place closed, but she put me in an Uber and told me the bar was better off without me.”
“Harsh.”
Dylan just grins. “She’s a sassy one. I like that.”
The hostess seats us at our table, and Dylan lunges for the pitcher of water already set out.
“I’m telling you, I just can’t drink like I used to. One day you’ll understand what it’s like to be an old man.”
I scoff. “You’re, what, twenty-nine?”
“And not getting any younger. Don’t waste your youth, Zachary. That’s all I’m saying.”
“You’re an idiot, you know that?”
“If I don’t know it, Renee will tell me.”
I pour myself a glass of water too. “Cheers to that.”
The waitress stops by to collect our order soon after. This is where we usually meet up on the rare occasions we’re not hanging out at Taverne Toulouse, so neither of us even needs to look at the menu.
“So how are things with you, my friend?” Dylan asks after she leaves.
I pause and think for a moment. “Favourable.”
He chuckles. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”
My parents have this dorky thing where they try to answer ‘How are you?’ with a different word every time someone asks. My sisters and I all do it too. I get teased enough about it at the bar that I should probably stop, but I think the habit’s too ingrained to kick.
“Your family doing all right?” he asks.
“I just called my younger sister before heading over here, the one who’s at school in Halifax. She’s as crazy as ever.” I chuckle at the thought of Hope, my most exuberant sibling. “She’s visiting in a few weeks, actually. Emily’s still living in Toronto. Mom and Pop are well as far as I know.”
“And how’s the ecommerce thing going? I still don’t really understand it.”
I have to laugh at that. “I’ve explained it to you about fifteen times.”
Dylan shrugs. “It mystifies me.”
“To be fair, it mystifies most people I talk to about it, but it’s going well.”
Dylan leans in closer. “Give me the run down again. Maybe this time it’ll stick.”
