by Dan Dillard
*****
It was less than two months since Matt had moved and settled into his new job and new apartment. Less than two months and he was knocking on my front door. We’d planned a quiet evening in, dinner, drinks and babbling about the good ol’ days until the wee hours. He held out a bottle of cheap wine when I opened the door. “A token, sir. That you might let a poor fool crash on your couch this dire evening?”
I looked up at the sky. It was mostly clear, with a rim of billowy white clouds along the horizon that were turning those awe-inspiring shades of orange, pink and purple as the sun set.
“Dire?” I asked.
“Well, I had to say something clever.”
“Come on in, dipshit,” I said and hugged him.
He still held the bottle of wine and Vicky grabbed it.
“Hello Matthew,” she said.
He tipped an invisible hat toward her. “Vick. Say, where’s my nephew?”
“I’m still not sure I approve of your being an uncle. We’ll see how you do with a real live baby,” she said.
“Hey,” I protested, but Matt laughed.
“Fair enough,” he said.
Vicky gave him a hug and he kept his arm around her as we all walked into the kitchen where Vicky had been cooking spaghetti.
“Nothing fancy. Not with the little monster always needing mommy.”
Sean was in his portable playpen, banging something on the floor. He looked up for approval and smiled when she smiled at him.
“It smells great,” Matt said. “I’m starving. But this guy isn’t. He looks like a fullback.” He gestured at my son, then gave me a quizzical look that I knew meant he wanted to pick the boy up.
“Sure. But lift with your legs, not your back. I’d hate for you to strain something.”
“Dick,” Matt said, then looked to Sean as he lifted him from the playpen. “That’s your daddy’s real name.”
“Don’t teach him that,” Vicky said. “Not even if it’s true.” She tickled Sean’s belly. Matt bounced the child and smiled at him, cooing like every idiot adult does when confronted with an infant.
“Hey, Todd... You'll never guess who I saw yesterday,” Matt said, grinning at my son like a madman.
“I give up. Who?” I said.
He shook his head.
“Everybody I looked at. Still gullible.”
Vick sprayed a fine stream of wine across the room and walked over to hug me. A hug of pity. Her face matched that look of pity, but there was a smile behind it. One that said, Oh, my poor baby. He got you again. I tried to hold onto an angry face, then a disappointed face, then any face, but it didn't work, they all ended in a rosy-cheeked giggle. My friend, my brother was there.
We sat and ate and laughed. We told stories about growing up in Walker’s Woods and embarrassed each other. The food was good, but it didn’t matter. It could’ve been dry crackers and water. It was family, and that was something I missed. It made me miss Danny.
“How is your brother?” Matt said as if reading my thoughts.
“Great,” I said. “He’s doing great. Better than me actually, as far as work. He probably makes more money than all three of us combined.”
“Law, right?” Matt asked.
“Yeah. Corporate stuff that I don’t understand, but he’s doing well.”
“He married yet?”
“Nah. He dates, but he’s too busy. It’ll happen though. Danny’s still the same guy he always was. There’s still a soft interior inside that hard outer shell.”
There was a moment of silence and chewing before I noticed a mischievous smile on Matt’s face. He was looking at Vicky and I knew what was coming.
“Don’t,” I said, but it was too late.
“Is it true, Vicky, that you and Todd here had a teenage fling?”
“What?” she said.
“I heard you flashed your jugs at him in the bathroom of your parent’s house before he even got his first pube.”
She didn’t flinch.
“I flashed him more than that.”
Matt choked on his wine and a small amount dribbled down his chin.
“More wine?” Vicky said.
After clearing his throat a few times, Matt said, “Yes please.”
“I’ll have one more,” I added.
Vicky opened a second bottle from our reserves and poured two glasses. She picked up her water and held it up. Matt frowned.
“You can’t toast with water,” he said.
“I can and I will,” she said.
I nodded and raised my glass. Matt shrugged and did the same. Sean blubbered and sputtered in the background, then said, “Ball!”
“That’s right,” I said. “Ball.”
Vicky cleared her throat and stood, glass still extended.
“To pregnancy,” she said.
Matt got an odd look on his face and I was glued in place. My legs quaked a little under the table.
“To pregnancy?” we repeated.
Our glasses clinked and Matt and Vicky sipped from theirs. I gulped mine.
“Is that a hint?” I asked.
“Found out this afternoon,” she said.
She smiled, and I jumped up to hug her. Of course, it was our daughter, Robin, she was carrying. There was more hugging to follow that evening, and as small as it was, it seemed a suitable celebration before calling the grandparents and the other uncles. Robin, my daughter, couldn’t replace Robin, my sister…but what a consolation prize.