“Totally fine. You don't have to worry about me, Taran.”
She doesn't say it in an unkind way, but she is making it clear the discussion is over. Telling her that I will worry anyway, and that I think about her a lot more than I should, will just make things worse. So I just give her a quiet, “Ok, see ya around, Lyra,” with a little smile so she knows that we're all good, and head back to my truck.
After work I stop by my mom's again to just check in onher and make sure her day went ok at therapy. While I’m there my buddy Carlo texts, asking if I have time for a quick drink since he just finished his shift. It's hilarious, he ended up at FedEx as a driver and I ended up at UPS. We joke about it constantly. I've known him since we were freshman in high school when we had a few classes together. His mom and my mom became friends through us too, and still keep in touch, although none of us see each other as much as we would like. After my dad passed, Carlo and his family really stepped up and became another family to us when we needed the support most.
When he and I met, neither of us were into sports since we were more interested in girls at the time. We joined the dance team instead as the only guys, and became each other's wingmen. He grew up dancing cumbia with his family, and both my brother Seth and I did some Irish dancing growing up. We both wanted to be Michael Flatley, Seth more so than me because Riverdance came out about when I was born and he was 10. I just followed him like a puppy and wanted to do it because he did. It became something I absolutely loved doing, though. All this to say, Carlo and I can both move. So we make plans to meet up at El Abrevadero, where people can grab a beer, fantastic Columbian food, and let out Monday frustrations on the dance floor. Running home, I quickly shower and change into black jeans and a crisp button down before heading out. The live band is getting warmed up on one side of the black and white checkered dance floor when I walk in. The bar, tables, and high tops are all sleek, black, and modern with big splashes of color from the eclectic decorations and bright mosaic backsplashes. It's a big enough place that nobody feels too cramped, but it also manages to feel socozy and intimate. When Carlo spots me, he waves me over and brings me into a back slapping hug.
“Good to see you, man, glad you could make it out,” he says.
“I’m glad you texted, I could definitely use a beer,” I reply.
“You said you have your own route now, right? Since Dave moved? Has work been crazy with that?”
“It's been busy, but having my own route is great. There's a lot more consistency, know what I mean?”
“Not going to lie, I'm a little jealous. I’ve been waiting to get my own route.” Then he quirks his eyebrow and asks, “So what's going on? Why the need for the beer?”
He’s going to give me so much shit, but in that loving, brotherly way. I need to tell someone about Lyra, and once he’s done having his fun, he’ll come through with sage advice like he always does.
“There's a woman on my new route who just moved in. She's funny, a little fiery, gorgeous, and has the sweetest dog that she is completely soft for. I’ve definitely got a huge crush on her.”
Carlo is smiling hugely. He knows that my love life has been non-existent, and I haven't talked about a woman like this since we were in high school. Since my dad died.
“Is there a reason you're not having a drink with her right now instead of me? Lose your touch with the ladies?” That took longer than I thought for him to give me shit.
“You're hilarious,” I say dryly. “I guess I have. The day we met I caught her checking me out. When I tried flirting, she walled up and shut me down. Her exact words were 'you'd have much better luck with someone else.' Maybe she has a significant other, I don't know. I justwish I knew her story.” I fill him in on the two times I delivered to her after we met, and how those conversations went.
“It seems like she's going through some stuff. You're a patient dude. Just continue doing your job, deliver her packages, and don't be a creep. Keep doing what you're doing, and maybe she'll come around. You got a hug, that's a start.”
“I just wish I had more time to talk to her than snippets when I have to deliver her work to her.”
“Hopefully that’ll happen. You said she is usually on your route late in the day, right? Maybe you ask if she still feels like you'd have better luck elsewhere. You can tell her that you're interested in getting to know her and taking her out for a drink, on whatever timeframe she wants if she needs time.”
All of my doubts and questions start to overwhelm me. “Yeah, I don't know about asking her that when she already shut me down. I don't want to push.”
“Definitely not, but as you said, you two have spoken more since then. Also, may I remind you about the hug. It couldn't hurt to let her know you're genuinely interested in more than just a hook up. Flirting like a high school boy doesn't count. You need to show her you're not just some fuckboy. At least ask what her situation is.”
“Where is all of this wisdom coming from, man? You haven't had a serious girlfriend since I can't remember when.”
“I still have 3 sisters, and I still know women, my Padawan,” he teases.
Then he grows more serious. “If you like her that much, Tar, fight for her a little. You deserve finding someone that lights you up. I haven't heard you talk about someone like this since Deanna Curto in 11th grade.”
“I can't believe you remember that. I had such a crush on her. This is definitely something different, more adult I guess.” The waitress comes by then and takes our orders of beers and arepas.
“So what about you?” I ask, wanting to change the subject. “Any ladies have your attention?” His eyes slide a little sideways before he mutters a “maybe.” My eyes widen, and I smack the table a little. “Who?? It's your turn to spill.”
He rolls his eyes. “There's nothing to really spill. It's no one you know. She's a new driver at work, gorgeous, funny, but we've never really talked. There hasn't been time.”
I decide to let it go with, “She sounds great, I hope you chat her up soon, brother.”
He nods and we switch subjects. I update him on my mom, and her recovery progress. I let him in on our emotional talk too, and he tells me he's hopeful it'll be a great start to healing. Again, he is the wise one in this friendship. He updates me on his family, and mutters darkly about the men his two youngest sisters are dating that will never be good enough. His oldest sister has been married to her wife for 3 years, and he was the same when they were dating. Now he adores his sister-in-law. All three sisters would have his balls if he ever said a word about their respective relationships anyway, so he's smart enough to stay out of it. We joke around and go back and forth with our usual stupid banter. The beer is great and the arepas are incredible. The crispy corn cakes are such a perfect canvas for the flavorful shredded beef and cheese. I’m in absolute heaven. They're so addictive that we order another round, with more beer to wash them down.
I don't do this often enough, it's great to get out and catch up with one of my best friends. Adult friendships areso hard to maintain, so I'm beyond thankful for a friend like Carlo. Even if we go a month or so without seeing each other, it's as though no time has passed. To have that friendship since the beginning of High School is a gift. I’ll never forget how he was there for me when my dad passed and things fell apart a little. His parents and three sisters have always treated me like one of their own.
Soon enough, the live band is starting with some cumbia music, getting people drifting toward the dance floor. Putting aside our empty beers and plates, we make our way over too. Carlo definitely garners a whole lot of attention when he starts moving, and a couple of really pretty women approach us. We dance with them, but Carlo and I lock eyes and make our non-verbal communication. Neither of us are interested in anything except dancing tonight, and we make it clear to the women as politely as we can. It feels great to get out and dance, though. I can feel myself relaxing and just letting my body take over. After three songs, we head back to our table for some water as we both start yawning. I'm about ready to pack it in since we've been here for a little over an hour and a half, and I know he's tired too. We're almost getting to the point in our lives where going out for two beers on a night before work is going to do more harm in the morning than it's worth.
We're sitting and sipping our water, starting to wrap up our night when I see her come in. That magnetic presence of hers pulls my gaze like gravity. Lyra is here?? She's with a lovely, dark haired woman who I am assuming is the BFF she mentioned. They make their way to the bar without Lyra spotting me, so I just watch her for a minute as casually as possible. She's changed into a really cute purple dress that shows off her curves and brings out the color ofher hair. Of course, Carlo notices that I'm distracted right away. He follows my line of sight and sees the two women.
