“It doesn’t matter.”
From the way he frowns, it would appear my dear neighbor is lying. Being well-versed in parental disappointment, I feel it’s my job to help him gain a little perspective on the matter. “Did you murder anyone?”
His lips twitch. “I only commit heinous crimes on weekends.”
“Did you kick any puppies?”
His mouth pops open in horror. “I’m not a monster.”
“Exactly. You’re handsome, successful, not living in your parents’ basement?—”
“Much to my mother’s chagrin,” he mutters.
Same, man. My mom would kill to have me stuck in her basement until the day I die.
But this conversation isn’t about me. Elliott helped when I needed him most, and now I get to return the favor. “Even so, you’re doing amazing. If she can’t see that, it’s on her.”
“Easy for you to say. Your parents don’t live in the same state.”
It’s easy for me to say because I finally had the guts to leave. Do you know what happened? The world didn’t end. It went on.
Mom and Dad just hired someone new at the funeral home, and I’m living my best life in Mount Juliette. Yeah, I might not be living in the lap of luxury and things might not have worked out with ratbag, but things are looking up.
None of that would’ve happened if I’d been less of a “disappointment.”
“Do you know what my mom said when I told her I got a promotion?”
He shakes his head.
“She told me I shouldn’t take it. That I should come back home where I belong.”
“Fuck that.”
“Exactly. Now take that attitude and apply it to your own issues.”
Chuckling, he tosses his bottle into the recycling bin. “Yeah. I’ll try. SoHarry, are you going to tell me what’s up with the shirt?”
Oh, yeah. The shirt that started this whole conversation. I tug on the hem, sincerely hoping the greasy sauce stain comes out. “I bought this gem at the thrift shop.”
He bobs his head. “Interesting. Are they doing casual Wednesdays at work or…?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. Meg and I bowl every Wednesday.” Which is quickly becoming my favorite day of the week.
“You’re kidding. Where?”
“This little place on Woodbridge Road.”
“The Alley? I heard a rumor they turned that into a laundromat.”
“Nope. Sixty years and still going strong.” On Wednesdays, anyway. I have no idea what the place looks like any other day of the week. Maybe Meg and I should swing by this weekend and find out. We do have two more shirts that need broken in.
“I never pegged you for a bowler.”
“I’m not. But the beer is cheap, and no one tries to hit on us. It’s quickly becoming our favorite bar.”
He rubs his chest like I just shot him in the heart. “Ouch. That hurts.”
“Sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. We just love it there.”
