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She wanted my head, and she wanted it on a platter. Now.
God, she is the best.
With a nod of my head, our previously agreed upon signal, Annie moved from her position by the kitchen and intercepted.
“Annie?” I read on Lola’s lips. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you wearing?” I heard Annie ask loud enough for me to hear. Lola looked down at herself subconsciously. Her outfit wasn’t matched, a mishmash of my oversized T-shirt and a short jean skirt of her own, but she looked nothing short of spectacular.
Lola opened her mouth to respond, but Annie cut her off again. “I like Reed, but wearing his clothes is taking it a little far. Even for you.” Man, she was a pro at avoiding the subject.
Meanwhile, I scooted out of the booth and ushered the rest of the crew—her family, mine, Brandon, Joe, Jen, and Abby out of the kitchen. The actual employees let out a huge sigh of relief. I’d had our friends and relatives packed in there like a clown car.
I sent them out first, in a single-file line, and one by one, listened as Lola shrieked a little louder.
When my turn came, she greeted me with a healthy punch to the shoulder.
I went back a step, rubbed at the small impact zone, and laughed as I did.
“What the hell is going on here?” she asked, basically everyone we knew looking on. “Did you do an interview for the San Fran Blotter?”
Joe laughed out loud at my made-up tale, and then he shrank into the background of the line when Lola burned him with lasers from her eyes.
“No.”
“Then, what the…” It all hit her at once, and horror made the creases at the corners of her mouth stand out. By the way, don’t ever tell her that I mentioned the creases at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, sweet Jesus, you’re Bobby?”
“I am,” I admitted proudly, a little shrug of my shoulders emphasizing my lack of shame.
“You are such an asshole!” she shouted, reaching out to maim me in some way, but I twisted the trunk of my body in successful defense.
“Hey, watch it, Lo,” I teased. “Mixed company here.”
Reminded of the other people with sudden alarm, she looked up to them and back to me again. “What is this?”
“It’s your launch party!” Annie yelled, stealing my thunder.
When I looked to her, her eyes were apologetic but not too much. She shrugged. “I was excited.”
“Our launch party?” Lola asked, pulling my attention back to her. “What does that even mean?”
“The launch of our lives.” Confusion spread even deeper into the desperate pools of her eyes.
I rolled mine, pulled her into my arms, and whispered directly into her ear. “It’s like a wedding. Except, a whole lot less legal, and we skip all of the boring stuff and go straight to the cake.”
All of the angst melted out of her body and right to the ground. “Tell me the cake is coming soon, and I might forgive you for this in this lifetime.”
I smiled. “That’s the point, Lo. This party confirms to our families and friends what we already knew—I’ve got that long to wait.”
The San Francisco Times
July 15th
Reed This, Revised: Launch Party
By Reed Luca
I’m back, folks—and better than ever.
It’s been a while since you’ve heard from me, and I don’t think it takes an investigator to figure out why. But, for the sake of the not so innocent, let’s talk in hypotheticals.
Say you’ve got something going for you that seems like it couldn’t get any better. Something that feels natural and easy. Something that brings you to life and gives you purpose.
But now let’s say that as your angle of attack shifts; it no longer aligns with the people in charge. The man. The leeching, bloodsucking authority that tells you what you can and can’t say or do at any given time.
That’s where I found myself a few months ago.
I had a choice to make, and it took me a little time, perspective, and help to do it.
It’s okay to go after what you want, and it’s okay to let people help you do it.
Because your support is your greatest strength. Your persistence is a necessity. And your happiness is paramount.
Take control—even if the best thing you can do with that control is turn it over to someone else. After all, it is your life. It’s up to you who pulls the strings.
Reed This: It’s never too late to have a launch party for life. Get living. Get loving. And don’t ever stop.
