Muriel makes a humming noise. “I guess we’ll see.”
“Time for a change of topic. Are you still thinking of going to Noah’s housewarming drinks tomorrow night?” asks Hana. “For what it’s worth, I think you should.”
“Hold on,” inserts Muriel. “Why didn’t I hear anything about this? I was going to invite you back to bingo.”
“Bingo was great,” I say.
“No. Go to Noah’s.” Muriel takes off her glasses to give them a clean. “I did another deep dive of his online life. Just for fun.”
I raise my brows. “Your definition of fun worries me sometimes.”
“The point is, apart from some questionable life choices in his early twenties, the man seems like one of the good ones. I approve of him.”
No point repeating that we’re just friends. They’re already aware. More than.
“I like him too,” says Hana. “What do you think, Willard? Roger? August? He’s wagging his tail. I think August is a winner. You’re so cute, Auggie. The cutest dog on the whole backseat of the car with his head currently resting on my leg.”
I laugh. “That’s pretty specific.”
“I want him to feel seen. To be perceived. How do you feel about Auggie?”
“Hmm. It’s the month when I found him. Or he found me,” I say with a smile. “I think it works. Auggie it is.”
“And you’re going to the party?”
“Sure,” I say with almost no doubt. “Why not?”
Music and chatter are flowing out of the front door of the small brick bungalow next door the next evening. I’ve never been in any of the neighboring houses before. What a momentous occasion. Back in the days of yore you would turn up to parties with a six-pack of beer along with your hopes and dreams. But a bottle of wine and a dose of reality seems more adult. Noah asked me to attend. Everything is going to be fine. Hiding away has been my norm for so long that there are bound to be nerves. But I can definitely do this. As in go out and get a life.
I wear a pair of blue jeans, and a new black square-neck knit tank with sandals. It took me forever to get my cat’s-eye liner right. Thank fuck for online tutorials.
No idea how many people it takes to run a restaurant. But there are four sitting in the room, including Noah. He told me it would basically just be people from work because those are the only people besides me that he’s met in town so far.
The house has an open-plan kitchen/dining/living space. A couple of packing boxes sit in a corner. There are a couple of tan sofas, a wooden coffee table, and a glass four-seater dining table with a record player sitting on top. No art or photos on the wall. Not yet. His residence is a work in progress.
Just the sight of him makes the ball of anxiety in my belly ease. There’ll be no need for a fire this winter. His gaze warms me just fine. Which is not the thought of a friend, but I am doing my best here. He’s wearing black jeans with a black tee andboots. I have to force myself not to swoon. I really need to stop dreaming about this man being naked. For both our sakes.
“Hey,” he says, getting to his feet. “You made it.”
“Yeah.”
He smiles, and I am not imagining how he stands closer than necessary. His back is to the room, blocking me from view, like he’s giving me a minute to adjust or something. And I appreciate it, but I am okay.
“What happened with the dog?” he asks. “I haven’t heard how things went at the vet.”
“Auggie is at home asleep on the couch. He doesn’t have a chip, so we’re waiting to hear if anyone is missing him. But for now he’s staying with me.”
“Is that so?” His smile really is all things fair and good in this world. I hand him the bottle of wine and he asks, “Can I get you a glass of that?”
“Sure.”
“Let me introduce you quickly.”
When he steps aside, three sets of eyes are watching us with interest. A beautiful Black woman with her braids in a low bun is sitting beside a young white man with piercings. And on a low wooden stool is a woman with olive skin and a shaved head wearing an amazing vintage-style dress. Talk about serving cunt.
“This is Ivy, Logan, and Jade,” he says. “And this is Sidney.”
Noah hasn’t told them about me. This much is made obvious quickly. But he stands at my side with a determined smile. The dawning recognition on Jade’s face is distinctly horrified while Logan’s is blessedly oblivious. And as for Ivy, she knows who I am but keeps a careful smile on her face. Which I appreciate. I wonder how far I would have to move to get away from this. From being known. Though the idea of running does kind of piss me off. The thing is, with the documentary coming out on a major streaming service, nowhere might be far enough now.
