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So I have a lot of pretty cute memories of them. I recently saw them outside the building after a thunderstorm, when they were coming in as I was leaving for work. I took a second to watch them free a small frog from a soggy wad of McDonald’s bag and put him in a puddle by the front door. The tiny girl grinned and clapped for their helpful deed, and her aunt did, too, before she straightened the kid’s hair bow and said it was time for some mac and cheese.
Yeah. Totally cute.
And here is where I come to my senses and say under my breath, “Oh, cut it out, Landon.”
Whether my neighbors are charming or not, I don’t want to jump into another relationship. I don’t want to worry about girls at all right now. I just want to focus on me—on saving up more money and spending more time with my grandma. I’m even considering helping Bill’s wife Shannon with some of the volunteer work I always overhear conversations about.
Besides, I wasn’t completely out of my mind last night: for whatever reason, Liv doesn’t capitalize on being single. I have a feeling she thinks I’m attractive (well, she’s not repulsed by me, at least), but she didn’t try to flirt or anything; she was collected even being alone with me at 10 at night after I’d kissed her. And her expression was totally unmoved when I asked about her relationship status, like she was completely uninterested in anything to do with dating. And then shesaidas much.
I gotta be honest: I don’t understand that part. But it’s fine because I don’t want to date her. Iamgoing to see if we can be friends, though. Why not? I’m a people person, which is one reason I like being a bartender so much, and I already think Liv is cool. Can’t have too many friends.
My last tumbler is dry, so I begin placing it and the others like it in their regular spots on the counter behind me. Picking back up on the birthday party conversation, I tell Bill, “I hope Abby likes the present I got her. I don’t know a damn thing about Barbies.”
“If it’s got a pretty dress on it, she’ll love it.”
“Purple and frilly, I think.”
“Oh, yeah. It’ll be perfect.”
Thinking about Abby after thinking about Liv and her niece makes me curious about something. The kids are about the same age, right? Seven-ish? I wonder if they go to the same school. It’s very possible; there are only two elementary schools in town.
If they go to the same school, Abby might have invited Liv’s niece to her birthday party. And if she goes, I’m almost certain Liv will, too. That would be a fun coincidence, since I’ll be there.
I wish I knew the kid’s name. I’m sure Bill would know something about invitations.
Well, the party’s in a few days, so I guess I’ll just see what happens.
“A wild Robbie appears!” Bill announces in the Pokémon language he picked up from his son.
“Hey, Bill,” I hear. “Hey, Landon. How’s it going?”
I look around and see my dreadlocked best friend lumbering onto a barstool. It’s been weeks since we talked, so I’m glad he’s here.
“Hey, dude!” I smile and lift my hands, palms up. “Hope you’re ready for a proper guy’s night out. Amanda and I are done.”
“Woo!” he hoots now, smacking the bar top. “I knew I stopped in for a reason!” He tosses his dreads back, then raises his eyes and hands to the ceiling. “God, worker of miracles, I thank you for finally showing my friend the light. We have all looked on and feared for his life for so long—”
“Shut up,” I say, laughing along with Bill.
Robbie laughs, too, then claps his hands together. “Okay, fine! All that matters is you came to your senses. Celebration time, indeed! Tomorrow night, yeah? Tyler’s coming into town.”
“Sounds good. Gotta go over and see my grandma after work, though, before I head out anywhere.”
At the mention of her, Robbie tsks and Bill sighs.
The former asks, “How is she, bro? I’m sorry I haven’t checked in before now. The business takes up a lot of my time, you know?”
I know him well enough to know he means that. I don’t hear avoidance in his excuse. Just truth.
“It’s fine.” I shake my head. “She’s not doing great, though.”
That’s an understatement,a part of my mind cuts in.
I blink hard and keep talking. “She’s deep into the middle stage of the disease. There have been some behavioral changes—she’s snappy and not as patient as she used to be, and she’s been throwing fits about stuff like having to shower. For some reason, shehatesshowering now. And her memories are a jumble, of course. She’s always asking where her cat is even though I was a kid the last time she had a cat. And a week or two ago, she was pissed because no one would let her pack up and leave for Louisiana to visit her brother before his surgery.”
“Damn,” Robbie says. “Your Great Uncle Lucas? He died, what, ten years ago?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
