Nerdplay

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

I use most of the remaining days I’m meant to be at camp and hole up in my house, trying to find a solution to this Matt-shaped problem.

I binge Star Wars , Lord of the Rings , and Wonder Woman (only the first one), and the entire MCU franchise, from Iron Man to Endgame .

I get teary-eyed when Gandalf falls to the Balrog in the first movie and cheer in the second one when he turns up at Helm’s Deep to save the day as promised.

I would gladly take sitting beside Cricket in the dark for the next six hours even if it means my eyes glaze over during the battle scenes.

I know I’m a guy, and I’m supposed to feel some sort of testosterone-fueled excitement about men killing and maiming each other, but I don’t.

Gandalf is the coolest though. I can see why people like him. Samwise Gamgee is stronger than all of them, though, because he has to watch in real time as his best friend succumbs to a curse that will eventually kill him. I wish there were more people like him in the world.

Unsurprisingly, I haven’t slept well. I toss and turn, and when I fall asleep, I dream of floating lanterns and Cricket with golden hair that glows. I am, of course, the villain in every story I conjure. No matter which way I spin it, the end result is that I let her down.

I’ve managed to put off a meeting with Riggieri, but only because he’s in Texas this week on a business trip and is laser focused on whatever’s happening at that particular negotiating table. Thank the gods for small favors.

When I finally return to the office, the building feels stuffy, and my suit feels too thick. I miss the outdoors. I miss lakeside picnics and swapping stories with people who seem genuinely invested in the outcome.

Mostly I miss Cricket.

Jeannie can tell I’m off from the moment she sees me. She looks at me with that face of maternal concern, and it’s a painful reminder of the kind of mother I would’ve liked to have had.

I’ve also managed to avoid the mother I do have. She and my father have been hounding me to make sure I’ll be attending their anniversary party with important news to share. I reassure them via text that I’ll be there, but I don’t mention any news—good or bad.

I go through the motions of returning phone calls and logging time. My suit is a shell and I’m empty inside it. A hollow man, not to be confused with a Hollow Knight, a video game at which Stefan proved to be remarkably good.

The campers will go home today. Another year in the books. Another group chat filled with in-jokes and core memories. I feel a pang of loss for what could’ve been if only I hadn’t been—me.

Matt’s face is the last one I want to see, but I welcome him into my office and ask him to close the door behind him. Jeannie knows to hold my calls and leave us undisturbed. This will be the most important negotiation of my career, and I can’t afford to screw it up. There’s too much at stake.

“I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule,” I tell him.

Matt scoffs. “We’re old friends, Chuck. Let’s not insult each other by bullshitting. I take it you had Jennifer summon me here because you want to know whether I shared the information about the lien with anybody.”

“For starters, her name is Jeannie, and yes.”

He shoots a Nerf ball, and it swishes into the basket. “Not yet.”

I have to admit, I’m both surprised and relieved. Part of me worried that Matt had already gone behind my back and was waiting for the perfect moment to reveal his treachery. “It’s been days. Since when are you so patient?”

“It was a long drive home from the Poconos.”

“And what? You sat in quiet introspection during rush-hour traffic?”

He snorts. “Not quite.” He reaches for another ball, but I shut the drawer before he can touch it.

“I have an offer you won’t want to refuse.”

“And there it is.” Matt grins, white teeth gleaming with arrogance. He reminds me of Iceman from Top Gun .

Good grief. Cricket really has infected me with her love of mainstream media.

“There’s what?” I ask.

“The reason I didn’t rat you out.” Matt perches on the corner of my desk, still grinning. “Sometimes the predator has to wait for his prey.”

“Am I the prey in this scenario?”

His shoulders lift. “If the glue trap fits. Let’s hear your offer, Thorpe.”

His response takes me aback. “I don’t get it. Why not swoop in with the smoking gun and present it to Riggieri yourself? You get crowned partner, and I look incompetent. A win-win for you.” I have no doubt he took a screenshot of the lien document for safekeeping.

“Maybe I’m curious to see how good of a lawyer you really are.”

“I’m not buying it.”

He heaves a sigh. “Fine. The truth is that, for reasons I’ll never understand, people here like you. They want you to succeed.”

“If that were true, then they wouldn’t have pitted us against each other for partnership. They would’ve just given it to me.”

Matt shakes his head. “This firm doesn’t operate on vibes, you know that. The partners in your corner still need to justify their decision.”

“If you help LandStar get what they want, I think the partners will feel justified promoting you over me.”

“Except if I’m the one who shows them the lien, they’ll ask how I found it.”

“Telling them you found it under my mattress doesn’t exactly make me a shining star.”

“You can explain it away. You were getting ready to take a screenshot when one of the campers knocked on your door. Whatever. There’s no way I can explain my role without coming off as a dick.”

I’m confused. “Since when do you care about that?”

“Like I said, it was a long drive back from the Poconos. I had time to think. Remember Bryan Fitzroy?”

“Of course.” Fitzroy was a partner who died a few years ago. Everybody hated him, including the other partners. People would check his calendar with his assistant and then deliberately schedule parties and other special occasions when they knew he’d be unavailable.

“I like parties,” Matt says simply.

It hasn’t occurred to me that Matt’s actions have been a misguided effort to belong, but I see it now. And, more importantly, I get it.

“You know, one surefire way to not look like the bad guy is to stop acting like one.”

“Which is why I haven’t shared your precious document.” He snaps his fingers in my face. “Keep up, Chuck.”

“How about that? You’re not the Lando I thought you were,” I say. Having watched the entire Star Wars saga from start to finish as part of my penance, I now understand all Lando references.

Matt draws a blank. “The what?”

“Nothing.” With the exception of Jeannie, my corporate soul mate, these are not my people.

They never were.

“Still waiting to hear your offer,” Matt says. “I said I’d rather not come off as a dick, but I’m willing to take my chances if it means I make partner.”

Instead of anger, I feel only pity for Matt. “I think I can help.” I draw a deep breath and make the most important pitch of Cricket’s life.

The final day of camp is always tinged with sadness, but today is next level.

The gloomy stretch of gray across the sky only adds to the malaise.

The one upside is that Patrick will be gone along with everybody else.

I won’t be alone afterward though. The children arrive the day after tomorrow, and Adam will stay behind with Chewy to work as a camp counselor for the remaining weeks.

He’s great with kids and they all love the dog.

I cancel the morning’s outside activities due to the light drizzle that started during my sunless yoga session at dawn. Esther manages to corral a group of us into the arts and crafts cabin for a final push to complete her Etsy order.

“Yours is bent,” Esther says. “You need to straighten it.”

Angela gives my crooked creation a casual glance. “Some women prefer them like that.”

I drop my penis plushie in despair. “I don’t have the spoons to start over.”

Gloria looks up from her mess of yarn. “Why do I think we’re talking about more than crocheted cocks?”

Tears prick my eyes. No, please. No crying in front of everyone.

Gloria reaches over and pats my hand. “The last day is always emotional.”

Sniffing, I nod. Wendy presses a tissue into my palm. “Do we have permission to dunk Patrick in the lake before we leave?”

“She isn’t crying about Patrick,” Laura says.

“I’m not crying at all.” I scrape back my chair. “I’m going to start prepping for the closing remarks.”

“Good timing,” Esther says, “because we’re officially done with Project Penis Plushie.” She angles her head toward Wendy. “That’ll be the last one.”

A collective cheer punctuates her statement.

Wendy pats her plushie. “Then I’ll make this one extra special. Maybe add a little pink bow.”

“Or googly eyes,” Angela suggests.

Gloria looks at me. “Want a hand with prep?”

“No, stay and enjoy. This is your last hurrah.” Soon Gloria will be back in the tractor beam of her mother’s orbit in Harrisburg. I don’t envy her.

I relocate the closing remarks indoors to the cafeteria. As I zip back and forth across the campsite, my gaze keeps flitting to the parking lot, half expecting a black douchemobile to screech to a stop. But there’s no luxury vehicle in sight, only a sea of moderately priced used cars and trucks.

A sigh punctures my lungs. I miss the douchemobile.

Even worse, I miss the douche who owns it.

Outside my office, fingers snap next to my ear. “Earth to Cricket.”

I blink away my visions of Charlie and try to focus. “Sorry, what?”

“I’m taking off,” Patrick says. “I wanted to say goodbye.”

I’d mostly managed to avoid him the past couple days aside from a few minor interactions. Despite his initial bravado when I told him about Charlie, he seemed to respect my wishes. Maybe therapy was working for him after all.

“Safe travels,” I tell him, because I have no idea what else to say to him at this point.

He makes no move to leave. “I know it’s entirely my fault, but I will always regret that I was too late.”

“Don’t sweat it. You didn’t miss anything you haven’t seen or done before.”

“I’m not talking about camp, Cricket.”

I push down the knot in my throat. “I’m sorry you wasted your time.”

A wistful look passes across his features. “This place could never be a waste of time, Cricket. You’ve got something special here. I’m glad you’re not selling it.”

“Thanks. That means a lot.”

“That being said, I won’t register next year if you’d rather I not be here. I totally understand.”

My chest constricts. I see him now with clear eyes and a cleansed heart. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be welcome here, Patrick.” Everybody needs a safe space to be their authentic selves, even those struggling to figure out exactly what that entails.

“I hope everything works out for you, Cricket. You deserve it.” He slings his bag over his shoulder and lopes away.

I watch him go, waiting for the waterworks or the racing heart or the sweaty palms.

I’m relieved to feel nothing at all.

“Cricket!” Fiona’s voice breaks through my breakthrough. “Are you ready? Everyone’s waiting for you.”

“Right. I’m coming.” I follow her to the cafeteria, where a quick count of heads tells me I am the last to arrive. As usual, Bernie has prepared vanilla and chocolate cupcakes with Nerds candy as a decorative topping.

“I’m glad to see the cupcakes,” Fiona says. “I was going to riot if Bernie didn’t make them this year.”

I don’t mention that my tight budget almost didn’t allow for them, but I sacrificed a few other items during the week to insure the presence of the ceremonial cupcakes.

“Where’s Patrick?” Laura asks.

“He left,” I say.

Gloria raises her eyebrows. “He actually said goodbye?”

“I guess people can change when they really want to.” I will not think about Charlie. Will. Not.

“We should get started,” Laura says. “Some of us have longer drives than others and the weather seems iffy.”

“Too bad Charlie isn’t here for this,” Olivia says.

I wince at the mention of his name as Ben quietly shushes her.

“What?” Olivia looks at him, genuinely oblivious. “He should be here. He’s one of us.”

“I’m not sure that he is, sweetheart.” The disappointment in Ben’s voice crushes me. Charlie didn’t just let me down, he let down everyone at camp.

I gather my resolve. “We should start.” I refuse to let Charlie or anybody else ruin this final moment with my friends, not when I have to wait so long for the next one to roll around.

Gloria seems to sense my distress, because she moves to stand next to me in solidarity. “He isn’t worth it, Cricket.”

“They never are,” Angela agrees. “Except when they leave you a small fortune. Then they’re financially worth it.”

I climb up to stand on a bench and address the group.

“It’s that time again, friends.” An audible groan follows.

“I know, I know. Trust me. But short and sweet is what makes these two weeks so special. I’d like to thank you all for choosing to spend your precious time and money at Comic-Camp.

It means so much to me to gather like-minded people who love and respect one another.

” Emotions clog my throat as I force myself to continue.

“This world is full of challenges, but at the end of the day I know I have a team supporting me and that makes all the difference.”

“I’d carry you that last leg to Mordor,” Bradley interjects. “Uphill in bare feet.”

“I’d battle a hellmouth for you all,” Hunter says.

“It’s not a competition,” I tell them, and my mind immediately conjures an image of Charlie. I mentally punch through it. “Everybody raise a cupcake. May the Force be with you.”

“And also with you,” they respond.

I hop down from the bench and bite into the chocolatey goodness. Bernie doesn’t disappoint. If I had the money to give her a raise, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

I hug each camper goodbye, except those who like fist bumps. There’s a certain comfort in knowing their preferences. I expect Olivia to be too cool for a hug, but she surprises me with a tight embrace. “Thank you.” Her voice is muffled against my sleeve.

“You’re very welcome.”

Ben extracts her from my arms. “Try to offer Charlie a little grace,” he says. “Remember, our flaws are what make us human.”

“That’s why our robot overlords will have the advantage,” Hunter adds.

“But if humans program the robots, then the robots won’t be perfect either,” Bradley counters.

Laura releases an existential sigh. “Not this argument again. Save it for the group chat, guys. Ben is trying to dispense wisdom.”

The wise old man gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We’re all just trying to make it home in the least painful way possible.”

“Home?” Hunter nods in the direction of my house. “She is home.”

Bradley elbows him. “He means death, genius.”

I fold into Ben’s arms. “See you next year?” I can’t bring myself to mention that next year might not happen.

Ben gives my back a gentle pat. “Wild penile purple ponies wouldn’t keep me away.”