FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER
Dena texted me: I haven’t had a pastrami on rye from Sully’s in ages. Meet me there at noon?
I nudged Kacey who was still bundled up in my bed, sleeping.
“Dena wants to meet a Sully’s for lunch.”
“Sully’s?”
“It’s a pool hall we used to hang out at in college. They have killer sandwiches. Their pastrami on rye—”
“Stop. I can’t even,” Kacey said. “I’m so tired for no reason and if you say ‘pastrami’ one more time I’m going to hurl. But you go. Enjoy.”
I noticed a little smile over lips as I bent to kiss her goodbye.
It was a sleepy Sunday afternoon, and the pool hall was almost empty. A jukebox played Johnny Cash while half a dozen patrons nursed beers at the bar or shot pool. I found an empty table and took a few shots while waiting for Dena.
I lined up a shot, hunched over, moving the stick between my fingers when someone took hold of it behind me.
“The hell…?”
I turned around.
“I got a text from Dena,” Oscar said, eyeing me darkly. “Said she was craving a pastrami sandwich?”
“I got the same text,” I said. “Your wife’s a mastermind.”
Oscar made a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “You rack, I’ll break?”
“Sure.”
We played a game of eight-ball, not saying a word but to call our shots, settling in to being around each other again after weeks of silence.
“Haven’t been here in a while,” Oscar said toward the end of the game. He twisted a blue cube of chalk over the tip of his cue stick. “Since UNLV, right? Before Jonah went to Carnegie.”
“Sounds right,” I said. “Beer?”
“Why not?”
I signaled the bartender for two while Oscar bent over the table, lined up his shot, his cue sliding back and forth in the cleft of his thumb. He lanced the stick forward and sunk the yellow two with a powerful crack.
“Nice shot,” I said.
“You remember that one night?” Oscar said, lining up his next shot. “Jonah hit the cue ball so hard on his eight-ball shot, it jumped to the next table and sank their eight?” He chuckled. “That was fucking epic.”
“Then he said it counted, because he called it,” I said, laughing.
“Yeah, he did.” Oscar eyed his next shot, then his eyes flickered to me. He backed off the table with a sigh. “I’m sorry, man. All that shit I said to you. It was uncalled for.”
I felt a knot of tension ease in my gut. “It’s cool. I know why you said it.”
“For Jonah,” he said. “I didn’t know Kacey all that well, except to see her with him.
In my mind…she was it. She was there for him.
I know it’s unfair to her—and you—but he was so fucking happy, you know.
” Oscar looked at me. “But now you’re so fucking happy.
” He shot me his signature smile. “It’s almost embarrassing. ”
“That so?”
“I’d be an asshole to stay pissed, right?”
“The biggest.”
Oscar snorted a laugh and came around the table. We half-hugged, half-clapped each other on the back.
“I love you, man,” Oscar said.
“You too,” I said, taking a seat at one of the small round tables against the wall.
He went back the table, eyed the eight ball near the right corner pocket. The white cue was in the middle of the table, a clear, easy shot. “I’m going to sink this little bastard for the win.”
“So, we’re good, man?” I asked.
Oscar leaned over the table, the cue resting on the bridge of his hand. “Yeah, we’re good.”
He started to take his shot.
“You sure about that?” I said loudly.
He shot me a look. “I said I was. You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you.”
“Then shut up and let me take this shot.”
He drew back the cue stick and just as he let it fly, I said, “Kacey’s pregnant.”
The stick scraped along the felt and knocked the cue ball sideways, straight into the side pocket.
“Scratch,” I said, and sipped my beer to hide my smile. “That’s game.”
Oscar’s eyes widened in shock, then, to my utter amazement, they began to shine with tears.
“Whoa, hey, don’t get all soft on me,” I said, tossing a cocktail napkin at him.
“You bastard,” he said, wiping his eyes, and then laughing. “You want to know if I’m sure? Now I know I’m sure. I’m so fucking happy for you, I’m crying. ”
I had to blink my damn eyes to keep from doing the same. “Thanks, man.”
He sank into the chair across from me at the table. “How far along is she?”
“Not very. Six weeks, maybe. She has an appointment with a doc in a few days.”
Oscar shook his head, whistled low through his teeth. “Do your parents know?”
“Mom’s happy. She wasn’t thrilled about Kacey and me either, but I think this news helped her accept we’re for real.”
“What about your dad?”
I shrugged. “Different spin on his usual bullshit. I bought a new business in a shit market and now I’ve got a kid on the way to support. A responsibility my poor career choices are going to fuck up and I won’t be able to support my family.” I shook my head. “Holy shit, my family.”
Oscar laughed. “Shit just got real.”
“It keeps getting realer by the minute.”
“You can’t worry what your dad thinks. He might come around, he might not. He might need to hold his grandkid in his arms for a kick in the ass.”
“Maybe.”
“Oh my Christ, the look on your face,” Oscar said, shaking his head. “Pitiful. Damn, man, I’ve never seen you like this. You are so incredibly, amazingly, one hundred percent whipped.”
“I saw how whipped you are over Dena and I got jealous.”
Oscar tossed back his head, laughing. He clinked his beer bottle to mine. “Welcome to the club.”
I came back to my place thinking that the smile on my face must be permanent. I turned the key in the lock, and the smile widened knowing that Kacey was inside.
She sat on the couch, her back to me, though I saw her cell phone sitting limp in her hand.
“Hey, babe,” I said, moving to sit beside her. “You okay?”
“Not really,” she said, her voice thick with tears.
“Hey.” Gently, I turned her to face me, brushed the hair from her eyes. “What is it?”
“I want to see my parents.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“I wasn’t going to talk to them ever again. I was done. But now that we’re going to have a baby, I feel like it’s one more chance to try. To have me in their life. And you. And their grandchild.”
She leaned into me, and I wrapped my arm around her. “You sure?” I asked.
“No. Part of me thinks it’s the worst idea in the world. But the other half can’t imagine not telling them. Going years and years with them never knowing they’re grandparents?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t seem right.”
They probably wouldn’t give a shit about that either.
She sniffed and sat up, her luminous eyes full of hope and fear in equal parts.
“Your mom was so wonderful about it. She treated me like I was her own daughter, and I want that from my own mom and dad. I have to do this. The final time. If they still don’t want me with a grandchild on the way, then that’s it.
” She exhaled heavily, wilting. “Am I insane risking this again?”
I didn’t know how to answer. She wasn’t insane, but the last thing I wanted was for her to be hurt. I wanted to protect her from another rejection by her asshole of a father.
But she’s trying, I thought, holding her tight. She’s stepping up one more time, laying her chips on the table. Just like she did with me after Jonah.
I wiped her tears with the back of my fingers. “It’s fucking brave. If they still turn their backs, then it’s their loss and fuck them forever.”
Kacey sniffled and laughed a little. “Promise you won’t punch my dad out if he turns out to be a dick.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“I love you, Teddy,” she murmured against my chest. “I’ll be proud to introduce you to them. I love this baby and this life we’re making. I want my parents to be a part of it.”
“Me too, Kace,” I said, kissing the top of her head. “More than anything, I want that for you.”