Page 84 of All Our Almosts

“You’re not going to believe it,” Owen says as he pulls a tiny blonde woman into his side. “This is my brother.”

“Meeting the family already?” she replies. “You must be really into me, huh?”

She’s absolutely lovely in a short silver dress, and has the dewy youthfulness of someone far below Owen’s years. They paint quite the picture: her delicate frame next to Owen’s bulky build, tailored suit, and beard.

“I’ll show you what I’m into,” Owen says as he grabs her jaw and pulls her into a messy kiss right there in the middle of the restaurant. Andy and I scream volumes through our eyes.

After several uncomfortable beats, Andy clears his throat. “Anyway, we’re just paying the check, but have a good night.”

“What’s with the rush to get rid of me?” Owen asks, taking a seat on the bench next to Andy and pulling the tiny blonde onto his lap. “Wait, you two aren’t on a date or something are you?”

“Owen,” he deadpans.

“Babe, you’re so mean,” the blonde says from Owen’s lap. “Stop teasing your brother.”

“I’m just kidding around. He can take it. Sophie, great to see you as always.”

“You too, Owen.” I offer the warmest smile I can muster, then extend a hand towards his date. “And hi, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Sophie.”

“Bella. Oh my god, you’re so cute.” She places her hand atop mine, more like I’m going to kiss it than shake it.

“Um… you too?” I give our weirdly joined hands a shake.

“What are you doing here?” Andy asks with increasing annoyance.

“I, little brother, am on a date.” Owen turns to Bella and bites her lip in another grotesque kiss. Then he adds, with the slightly condescending tone of someone bestowing much-needed advice, “I think the two of you might be the only platonic pair here. It’s kind of a romantic spot, you know.”

“Aw, you’re really not together?” Bella whines. “That’s so sad.”

I catch Andy’s eye across the table and attempt a new round of telepathy: You can tell them about us, if you want to!

(And I really hope he does, if only because I, too, might gain some clarity from the explanation.)

Andy says nothing.

“Don’t worry about them, princess,” Owen says, eliciting a horny giggle from Bella. “Why don’t you head to our table and I’ll be right there.”

Bella stands from Owen’s lap with a flirty look. He winks and taps her ass—(barf)—sending her on her way.

Once she’s gone, Owen’s body language immediately takes one step back towards normal. “Anyway,” he says, “it really is fun to run into you guys. You should come by my place sometime. There’s lots of great bars and restaurants by me if you’re into this kind of scene.”

“That would be nice,” I manage. “Thanks.”

Andy, still, says nothing.

The silence stretches. Owen looks from Andy to me to Andy again. I watch Andy for any sign that he wants to tell Owen the truth about us. Andy stares blankly at his hands.

“Alright, well.” Owen finally stands to go, clasping one big palm on his brother’s shoulder, “I won’t crash your night. Have fun, kids.”

But before walking away, he bends to whisper something in Andy’s ear. It’s hard to hear with the noise of the restaurant around us, but it sounds something like, “Make your move, man. I’m rooting for you.”

It would be a short walk to the nearest T stop, but the night is young and the air is unseasonably warm, so we decide to walk along the river instead—hand-in-hand, lost in our own thoughts.

Mine go a little something like this:

Why didn’t Andy correct Owen about the dating jokes? Did he not want Owen to know? Or did he think I don’t want Owen to know? Or is there nothing to know? It certainly feels like there is something to know, even if it’s just a friends-with-benefits situation. That’s a significant update! And also… we went on a date! And tonight was a date too, right? Is it still considered friends-with-benefits if you also go on dates? I’ve never done this before, so I’m admittedly fuzzy on the rules.

Maybe Andy doesn’t want to tell people until I figure out my grad school situation. My interview is tomorrow, so we’re kind of in the home stretch. And it would be reasonable for him to want to keep things under wraps until we know if I’m even staying in Boston. In fact, it would be unreasonable if not downright stupid to call ourselves a couple when I might be mere weeks away from the decision that will end it all.