“I love you,” I whispered, hating the stale air between us but not knowing what else to say.
“I love you, too. I’ll miss you when I’m gone.”
“You, too.”
He meant it, this I knew, but the exchange felt funny and cold. As did the restless night of insomnia I had beside someone I’d thought, at this point, I was sharing everything with.
* * *
Dean’s last morning breezed in and out, which deepened the heaviness of my heart.
With his early flight out from San Francisco, and needing to meet Dylan at the office beforehand, he’d woken to his alarm and showered long in advance of my uncomfortable crawl out of bed to get myself ready for work. We’d shared a cup of coffee at the dining room table in the dim morning light with nary a word between us, but I hadn’t wanted to spend the tiny chunk of morning we had without any interaction. I wasn’t over last night, and it was obvious in his silent sips of coffee that he wasn’t, either. Dean had gathered his bags together and at least taken me into his arms, the two of us sharing a semisweet kiss and close hug before he left to meet his brother at the office. After I shut the door behind him, I hoped that if nothing else, the distance would ease the tension and right our wonky course somehow.
Absence made the heart grow fonder and all that.
Beyond the awkward departure, the rest of my week proceeded as normal. I handled several counseling sessions and intakes, a bounty of paperwork, and the grant proposal for a new fundraiser we’d been gearing up to initiate at work, as well as a casual lunch with Maddie both Tuesday and Wednesday. I spent time organizing and unpacking in Half Moon Bay those evenings, and Thursday night headed back to the condo to sort what I’d sell while packing up more boxes that would need to come along when Dean and I did the final haul at the end of the month. We ended up talking a few times, too, the conversations normal, both of us moving on from the drama that’d risen up before he’d left. It didn’t hurt that on Friday, Tania called me over to meet the flower delivery that came for me. Some of my favorite flowers filled the huge bouquet—red Peruvian lilies, lavender carnations and roses mixed in with other beauties I didn’t know the name of. Tania swung her head with a whistle while I gathered the bundle in my fist and checked the typed card.
I’m sorry about how we left it. I want to make it up to you. I love you.
The words filled a balloon of love within my chest, and a soft smile touched my lips before Maddie sidled up behind me and squeezed my shoulders.
“Flowers, huh? That’d get Henry out of the dog house,” she said. Both she and Tania laughed, though I’d only vented to Maddie about the dinner blowup at one of our lunches earlier in the week. Like I’d told her then, I didn’t know if it was truly settled in my head, but I also hadn’t wanted our phone calls drenched in negativity when he was so far away. I missed him already, and a few times I’d also considered what he’d said; maybe dropping it was the best option. Maybe it just was what it was, and he and Ryan would never get along because my brother was a maniac finding stupid patterns where there were none.
I hated the idea, but I also didn’t know what to do with that reality.
As far as Ryan went, I didn’t get to squeeze many chats in with him either, which sucked, since he’d be heading back to Jersey next week. But he’d been getting psyched for his last big gig over the weekend, and with Selby having enthusiastically said yes to the other ticket he’d given me, I turned my focus to the event. Both Selby and I were looking forward to it, since it’d been years since either of us had seen him play live.
There was no way to get into the greenroom to hang backstage with Ryan like we had pre-show in the distant past, so Saturday night, the three of us had arranged to meet up for dinner before he had to prep for the show. My hope was that it would be calm, and he’d act like my brother rather than the dick he’d been at Dean’s and my house.
That was my last thought before I snagged an excellent parking spot right in front of the small diner we’d picked, a feat possible because I’d drastically overestimated how long it would take to get from Half Moon Bay to South of Market in the city and had almost twenty extra minutes to circle the block six times. I got excited once I parked, though, both for the show and dinner, since I was starving. The eclectic restaurant served reasonable enough bar food about five blocks down the street from the Eclipse Club, and inside, I landed a table for three near the window, where I reminisced over Selby’s and my dancing days in the time I looked around.
The place was full and loud, with dishes clanking and kitchen staff shouting at one another while patrons chatted it up in their green-and-teal striped booths over a gold-and-black checkerboard tile floor. Here, there was a mix of styles and cultures that I loved to see in SoMa, a neighborhood Selby and I used to visit often for late nights back in the day. That was something I didn’t see her doing for a long, long time now that she was pregnant. The thought made me smile. Between her happiness over that and her marriage, and my new living arrangement with Dean, a bubble of warmth urged me to grab up my phone to check in with him. I realized I hadn’t had the chance to thank him for the flowers, since a rowdy intake had come through the front doors not ten minutes after Maddie, Tania and I had finished cooing over them, and then we hadn’t had a chance to talk last night or all day since he was at a key point in the job. I didn’t want the bitterness anymore, not with his sweetness, and all the packing I was doing that drove up my eager countdown of the days till his return.
Hi, I typed. How’s it going down there, handsome?
Dean texted back a couple of minutes later. Hey! Going okay. What are you doing?
Sitting in restaurant. Waiting for Selby and Alex for pre-show dinner. Would call, but it’s super loud here.
He sent, All good. I’m still around crew, anyway.
But it’s almost 6!
I know. We’re so busy here, it’s crazy.
I’m sorry. I followed the note with a stressed-face emoji before typing, Hopefully you get to rest tonight?
Yeah. Just called it for the day. Cleaning up and will go back to the hotel to shower after as soon as possible. Which sadly isn’t anytime soon.
Bummer.
Wish you were here.
I tilted my head, running my thumb on the side of the phone. God, I missed him. I do, too, I typed. Next big trip you take, can I come?
Absolutely. I prefer having you with me. That was sweet. I breathed out a sigh before Dean sent another text. You excited for the show?
I liked that he wasn’t avoiding asking about it, considering it was Ryan’s. I didn’t know how, but I had a sense things would be fine. I typed, Definitely.
Good. I hope you enjoy it.
Thank you. And thank you for the flowers. I’m sorry it took so long to say so.
Flowers?
I tilted my head. Yes. The ones you sent yesterday.
I didn’t send flowers.
What? Curiosity tripped through me, but so did a spell of disappointment that they hadn’t been from Dean. If it wasn’t him, who the hell had sent me flowers? I took a minute to consider. The card hadn’t had my name on it, anywhere. But hadn’t the delivery guy said they were for me? That’s weird.
Do you know who they’re from? he typed.
My curiosity morphed into a random chill as I reread his text. I didn’t, no, and this bothered me. I sent, You really didn’t send me flowers?
No. Should I be jealous?
I faked a laugh, because as funny as his text was meant to be, a prickle of nervousness ran over my arms. Probably a mix-up with the florist.
Okay. If you think so. Bubbles appeared on the screen for a long time before his next text appeared. I’m sorry. Someone just dropped something. I’ve got to run.
Yikes. Okay. Good luck. I love you. XX
You too. X<
br />
I set the phone on the table and rested my hand over it. The flowers were likely a mishap. I twisted my mouth around in thought, realizing that meant they weren’t from Dean and he hadn’t made the sweet gesture to apologize, after all, but I’d meant what I said. I didn’t want a mountain of negativity building between us. I mindlessly spun the phone around on the tabletop, resting my head on my palm as a faint smile crossed my lips and I gazed out the window. Flowers or no flowers, he was a wonderful man. We’d sort it out—or maybe this matter was best to let lie. Either way, I hated that it would be a while until I saw him again.
“Hey, Maya!”
I turned, spotting Selby three booths down with Ryan a step behind her. They must have met outside and appeared to be mid-conversation as I waved and put the phone away. Selby paused by the booth when they reached me.
“Let me guess. Dean?” Selby asked.
I stood to give her a hug before she took the seat beside me, but when I hugged Ryan, he didn’t say anything. He sat across from Selby and me, and I settled back into the booth.
“How’d you know?”
“You’re just happy looking,” Selby said, grinning and lifting one of the menus off the tabletop. I smiled wider, and she said, “Now that I’m married and crazy happy, isn’t it my duty to make sure every couple is as happy as us? You did catch the bouquet, after all...and him the garter.” When she winked, I chuckled. “What? It’s true. And I think you two are adorable. Don’t you, Ryan?”
The smile he’d worn into the diner had dropped from his face. He lifted his menu, giving it a considerable amount of attention, and my stomach knotted at how fast he’d switched into this mode. Our rotten dinner came back to me in a fraction of a second. “I have no comment,” he said, his voice gruff.
Selby eyed him, then looked back to me. “Am I missing something?”
“Nope,” Ryan said.
Annoyed, I pored over my menu. He was going to start this again, in front of Selby, the second we got together for what was supposed to be a good time to cheer him on before his show?
Seriously, what the fuck?
I wasn’t subtle when I snapped, “Ryan’s made it abundantly clear that he has some sort of issue with Dean.”
“Why?” Selby asked, confusion contorting her face.
Ryan blew out a puff of air and glared at me, presumably for calling him out. “He’s too intense. It’s weird.”
“He’s been nothing but polite to you.”
“And he’s bossy with you.”
“Bossy?” I cocked my head. The bug up his ass boggled my mind. In private, between us, Dean was dominant, absolutely—but that was our thing, and not something we’d acted on in front of Ryan. I’d made a point to Dean that I didn’t like it around my friends the time he’d gotten aggressive with me in front of Selby and Alex early on, and he’d respected that ever since. At dinner, he’d been nothing but sweet and non-dominant, in fact, so what was Ryan talking about? Dean expressing an iota of concern for me and Selby wandering around a seedy neighborhood late at night somehow translated into I was repeating a pattern? Ugh.
“Never mind,” Ryan muttered.
The reality that Ryan was steadfast in this stupidity made me feel helpless, and I hated that even more than the wedge he was not-so-subtly ramming between us. Selby peeked at me. She knew about Dean’s and my dynamic, but she also had to know this had never come up with Ryan.
With standard poor server timing, our waiter arrived with his notepad out and pen at the ready. “What can I get you folks?”
“Oh, yes!” Selby lifted in her seat. “I’m starving. I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger, please, with sweet potato fries. And extra pickles, too, please. Lots of extra pickles.” She gave him a convincing nod, and as put off as I’d been a second ago, I snorted. “What?” she squealed. “These cravings are real!”
Ryan and I chuckled at her before he gestured for me to order.
“Grilled chicken sandwich for me, please. Regular fries.”
Ryan gathered our menus and handed them back to the server. “And I’ll have the cheeseburger with regular fries.”
“Great. Drinks?” the server asked. He wrote down our requests and left in a rush, and Selby propped her elbows on the table.
“Okay, Ryan, I know you haven’t seen a lot of them, but Maya and Dean are fabulous together.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said to her. “At least someone is a good judge of character.”
Ryan sat back with a scowl.
Selby kept on talking. “Um, of course. Hey, I did get you two together...”
I rolled my eyes, since back then, she hadn’t been keen on the concept. Her take had changed dramatically, and I appreciated her effort at the moment. A lot.
Ryan said, “I just don’t understand why you’re not ready for a chill dude.” I couldn’t fathom how to rationalize with irrational, so I shot him a confused look before he continued. “Like, Selby’s all happy and settled. Alex is a great, normal guy.”
“Dean is a great, normal guy!” I nearly barked. “What the hell is your problem?”
Selby was in the middle of watching Ryan with her mouth agape, and when he didn’t respond, she played interference. “I know! Let’s talk about something else. Okay?”
“Yes, let’s,” I said.
Selby reached across the table and nudged Ryan’s shoulder. “Thanks for the tickets to your show. I’m excited for you. We are,” she said, hitching a thumb in my direction.
I agreed. I’d simmer down in a few minutes, because to have gone from the mood boost I’d started to feel over texting with Dean to whatever the fuck had happened in the whole five minutes Selby, Ryan and I had been sitting there was not how I wanted tonight to go. Dean and I were good; we would be. That was all that mattered, not whatever bullshit card Ryan was playing.
When the server brought our waters and Selby’s vanilla milkshake by, Selby grabbed it for a huge swig from her straw and breathed out a sigh.
“Holy cow, that’s good.” She took another swallow and I swear I was having flashbacks to high school with how exuberant she was behaving over stuffing her face. “Okay. So are we going to hear classics, Ryan? Or new stuff? What are you playing tonight?”
He relaxed and started to talk, his shoulders lowering slightly, thank God. And for the most part, the rest of our dinner was calm and pleasant. I shoved all my irritation aside—something I felt like I was becoming a pro at lately—and after Ryan left to check in and get ready backstage, Selby and I hung out. We stopped by a bakery to get her a cookie before we walked around the neighborhood until the show. As she told me about the size of her baby this week, and her wondering if little he or she would enjoy the music, her happiness started to rub off on me.
I was grateful to have her there.
* * *
“Damn! He’s gotten great, hasn’t he?” I shouted.
“No kidding!” Selby swayed on her stool. The strums of Ryan’s guitar filled the dimly lit club, and everyone seemed to be into it; a mass of people took up the floor area in front of the stage, grooving and waving their hands or snapping pictures on their camera phones under the colorful lights flickering from above. A good number of tall tables and stools lined the back wall for those who’d arrived early enough to grab them, and though we’d found one with a single seat, Selby and I had grabbed it. I’d fetched us drinks while she’d guarded the table, and for the next hour we’d laughed to the comic who preceded Ryan’s performance before jamming along to the first part of his almost bluesy, indie set.
He had gotten better, too. Before he’d moved away, he’d been playing tons of smaller venues with other incredible talents. I guess the time away, and perhaps healing after his breakup, had allowed him to hone his skill even more.
“I think he’ll be f
amous one day!” Selby called.
“He already is! His name was on the ticket!”
We both squealed with a wave of our fists. I was happy seeing my brother wow the crowd with his music and hanging with my bestie like I was. Other than Selby’s bachelorette party, we hadn’t gotten out for a late night in years, and it felt good. Fun, lively and familiar, never mind amazing to be doing it with a view of my brother onstage.
Selby and I listened for a while like that, both of us enjoying the sounds and sipping at our drinks. Ryan had told us his set was about an hour and a half, but he couldn’t have been playing more than half that before Selby popped up from her stool and leaned into my ear.
“I have to pee.”
“Again? Jesus. Is it going to be like this until you pop?” I pointed at her stomach.
“I think it’ll get worse!”
I shook my head at her worried expression. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, no. Keep the table. I’ll be fine. Hold my stuff, though.”
“Okay.” I climbed onto her stool after she handed me her purse, then I watched her wander off, weaving into the crowd en route to the bathroom on the other end of the club, and went back to enjoying the sound of Ryan on his guitar. Despite the bickering earlier, I was honestly so proud of him. He brought his song to a close and everyone clapped, and I made an ass of myself shouting, “Yeah, Ryan!” at the top of my lungs. I wasn’t the only one to whistle, though, and he thanked the crowd before shifting into another, slower ballad. I dug my phone out of my bag to record a clip that I sent to Dean. It might’ve been a touch late in the evening to be doing so with how hard he’d worked that day and how early he’d be up, and maybe he wouldn’t be into it—but I was warmed by the glasses of wine I’d had and did it, anyway.
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