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The theme of tonight’s masquerade is Andersen’s fairytales.
“Well, it seems he did. About lots of birds, actually.” His grin is nothing short of taunting. “I thought it was fitting for you.”
“Now, why would you think that?”
“Because I think you’re entering a new era, Edwin.”
I sigh. “One can hope, my friend. One can hope. Now, what’s yours?”
He holds a green, bumpy thing up to his eyes and grins. “A goblin!”
“That fits your personality to a T.”
“Hey! I resent that.”
I smack my friend on the arm with the back of my hand. “Just giving you a hard time.”
This guy is the least goblin-like man in the Lyons Club.
Not quite an achievement since money has a way of bringing out the worst in some people.
“Although I don’t know how you expect to bed someone wearing something like that.”
Sol laughs and goes up to the full-length mirror in the corner. “I know you have a history of bedding women every masquerade, or close to it. I mean, in thirty-one years, you might have missed out once or twice, but is that all tonight is for you? A chance for a conquest?” He pulls the mask on, obscuring the top half of his face.
“Notall.”
Thirty-one fucking years. God, when will I grow up? I’m a year away from fifty and still wondering who to add to my roster next. I should have settled down years ago now. Yet, here I am, talking about girls like I’m some fucking horny frat boy.
Pathetic.
I know I’m not perfect. I’ve never had the emotional availability to make something work. I accepted that shortcoming for a long time.
Now, I hate myself for it. After all, look at my relationship with my firstborn.
Truth is life is empty.
The lack of personal connections has now started to take its toll on me, and my loneliness weighs so much that I almost suffocate sometimes.
I dream of finding someone to share this life with.
In these past few months, I learned that my successes are empty when there is no one there to cheer me on, and my failures cut even deeper without someone there to hold my hand. To let me know everything is going to be alright.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone to keep your bed warm tonight.” He chuckles. Then, his eyes grow wide beneath the mask. “As long as it’s not–”
“Bridget. I know. You’ve told me every year since she turned eighteen.” As if I’d ever consider bedding his daughter.
As my finger traces the wooden grooves on my disguise for the night, I struggle to keep down a sigh. “I don’t know, Sol, my mind is too full tonight. I’m not sure I’ll stay longer than an hour.”
Solomon puts his hands on his hips and looks me up and down. “Come on. Let’s see how you feel when you put that thing on.” He steps to the side of the mirror and gestures with his hands for me to come forward.
I roll my eyes but do as he asks. Whatever will get him off my case. “A phoenix…” I grumble as I slide the masterpiece on.
“Rising from the ashes…” His voice has far too much gravitas.
I sigh. “I don’t know if there’s much rising to be done right now, my friend.”
He lays a hand on my shoulder and our eyes meet in the mirror. “Still haven’t heard from Nate?”
