20. Chapter 20
Chapter 20
A few nights later, David headed over to Three Amigos, almost as desperate for a beer as he was for conversation with someone that wasn’t Ashley—not that he and Ashley were having much conversation since the wet dream. And, what they were having took place mostly at work and centered around work things, so it didn’t really count. Because even then, it was rather tense.
When he pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside the drinking establishment, he immediately spotted Evan working behind the long, hand-carved bar. As David made his way over, he thought how fortuitous it was to have a good friend who owned part of the place. For one thing, it made spending a lot of time in a bar somewhat necessary, not to mention, fairly acceptable.
“Hey, man,” Evan greeted him, having to compete a little with the Wednesday night patrons in varying stages of inebriation, occupying a dozen or so tables in the room. When he saw that David was flying solo, Evan smiled broadly, his relief not surprising in the least. He and Ashley got along about as well as Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield during their June 28, 1997, heavyweight fight at the MGM Grand, when Holyfield lost part of his ear.
“Hey, Dick,” David replied, taking a seat on one of the barstools.
Rolling his eyes at the awful nickname, Evan set an empty glass rack on the floor before giving David his full attention. “You want something to drink? We got some new craft beers in if you want to try one.”
“Sure, what do you have?”
After Evan named a few, David chose one called Three Floyds Zombie Dust. Evan grabbed it from the cooler, popped the cap, then handed David the bottle and a glass. “So, what’s new? I haven’t seen you in like, a month.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Life has been kind of shitty since we last got together.”
“What’s going on?” Evan asked as he watched David pour his beer.
David took a fortifying drink and savored it before answering. “I ran into my ex-wife several weeks ago when I was out with Ashley and it didn’t go well.”
“Things like that usually never do.”
“My ex-wife ended up in the hospital.”
“Oh. So, it really didn’t go well.”
“No.” David shook his head and then held up his glass, detouring the conversation for a moment. “This is pretty good, by the way.”
“Good to know,” Evan replied, then changed the conversation back by asking, “So, what the hell happened?”
David started off telling Evan the abridged version of that night, but then found himself vomiting the entire story, to include the things Jules had told him as well as the sex dreams. When he was done, they were both kind of shocked. In the almost five years that David had known Evan, David had never really talked about Paige, but when he had, it was always in generic terms. He’d always referred to Paige as his ‘ex’, never using her name because it actually hurt to say it right after the divorce. It also put some distance between him and his feelings for her, and as time passed, it became a habit and ingrained.
Schooling his features, Evan got another beer from the cooler (this time a Yellow Snow IPA) and handed it to David with a fresh glass, without a word. For a moment, Evan thought about Ashley—he hadn’t thought it possible to dislike her any more, but apparently there was no limit—and not for the first time he wished better for his friend.
David, feeling a little unnerved by Evan’s silence, poured the beer and then took a drink, before he said, “I’m sorry. I know that was a lot to unload on you, but Jesus, say something.”
Evan leaned against the bar and shook off his darker thoughts. “I’m not quite sure where to start. I’m kind of at a loss. But …” he trailed off, lips quirking, “I think I’m going to start with the sex dreams.”
David narrowed his eyes. “Those better stay between you and me.”
“Of course. I’ll take them to the grave,” Evan promised, his sincerity a little compromised by his obvious amusement. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give you shit about them whenever I can. Because I will. Opportunities like this don’t come around every day.” He chuckled before saying, “Shit, man, I haven’t had a wet dream since tenth grade.”
“Well, neither had I, before the other night.”
“How was it? I don’t even remember what they were like, to be honest.”
David thought about lying, but really, what was the point? “It was pretty intense, actually.”
“I guess that means you enjoyed it?”
Instead of answering, David took a drink of beer and then held the glass up in the air. “This one is pretty good, too.”
“Nice deflection.”
“What? I thought your question was rhetorical.”
Evan took a long drink of Coke and as he swallowed, his eyes widened as something occurred to him. “You don’t suppose your ex-wife has had any sex dreams about you, do you?”
“What? No.”
“Holy shit, maybe she has.”
“Why would you even think that?”
“Because it’s a logical thing to think. You’ve had them about her,” Evan pointed out.
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not. I mean, whatever reason made you have them about her, like say, getting to second base with her in the hospital—”
“God damn it, Dick.”
“—could also make her have them about you. Don’t you think?”
David blinked at him. “I’m pretty sure you just went off the rails.”
“Are you seriously going to tell me that it never crossed your mind?”
“It hasn’t, actually. But now that you’ve thrown it out there,” David told him sarcastically, “I’m going to be thinking about it and I don’t want to be thinking about it. I don’t need to be thinking about anything that might encourage me to keep having sex dreams about her, you know what I mean? I’ve had too many, as it is. For fuck’s sake, I’m trying to not have Ashley find out about them, so not having any more is a crucial part of my strategy. Make sense? Yeah?”
Evan adopted as serious an expression as he could manage, considering the topic of conversation. “On that note, here’s where I impart some of my estimable wisdom to you—”
“Estimable? Is that your Word-of-the-Day?” David asked, referencing Evan’s favorite app with a roll of his eyes. “And who says you have estimable wisdom?”
“Fuck you. Says everyone I impart estimable wisdom to.”
“Dick, your nieces and nephew don’t count.”
“Do you want some estimable wisdom or not?”
“Sure. Impart away.”
Evan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, spreading his hands like a game show host as he did so. “Protect your balls.”
“You consider that ‘estimable’? Protect my balls?”
“Yep. You can never be too careful. If, God forbid, Ashley ever finds out that you’ve had killer sex dreams about your ex-wife, especially while Ashley’s essentially been cut off from sex, she’d probably be highly pissed. Like do-something-to-your-junk, pissed.”
“Uh huh,” David said, deadpan, just as one of the waitresses came over with a drink order for Evan. She was blonde and very pretty, with a sweet, wholesome vibe and David figured she was fairly new because he didn’t recognize her.
“Two Miller Lites and a Corona,” she called out cheerfully as she pulled her phone out of her back pocket to check it.
Evan grabbed two beer glasses and quickly poured the first Miller Lite from the tap. As he was starting the second one, he tilted his head at the waitress, who was now busy texting.
“Mandy, what would you do if you found out your boyfriend was having sex dreams about his ex?”
“Rip his balls off.” There was zero hesitation in the answer and her perky voice made the words all the more chilling. “Then put them down the disposal and flip the switch.”
David winced at the graphic visual.
“Why?” Mandy asked, looking up from her phone.
“Just curious,” Evan replied with a shrug, then pulled a Corona from the cooler. With practiced movements, he then popped the top and wedged a slice of lime into the bottle’s neck before setting it on Mandy’s tray next to the Miller Lites.
Mandy shoved her phone into her back pocket and left, after giving them both a big smile.
“Protect. Your. Balls.” Evan gave David a stern look. “You heard the girl. She’d rip her boyfriend’s balls off and put them down the disposal, and she’s not nearly as crazy as Ashley is. I’m one thousand percent serious when I say your girlfriend would probably not only rip your balls off, but she’d probably twist your dick off, too, and hang it from her rearview mirror. I mean, look what she did to your ex-wife—and for very little reason.”
A shadow passed over David’s face and he nodded.
Evan poured himself another Coke from the bar’s dispenser gun and leaned forward, sipping from his glass. “Speaking of your ex … how’s she doing now?”
David shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve texted her almost a dozen times, but she hasn’t responded.”
“Not even once?”
“I know you’re probably thinking that she’s being a bitch or something—”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
“—but she’s not. She’s not like that.”
“Okay, well, she’s probably okay by now. It’s been three weeks.”
“I know. I’d still like to know for sure, though.”
“You could call her,” Evan suggested, even though his tone made it clear he was only putting it out there to be a good friend.
“If she won’t answer a text, I doubt she’d answer a call.” David turned his beer glass in a circle with his fingers. “Anyway, I’m sure it’s just her way of trying to put that night behind her.”
“It really sucks that it all played out that way. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. You know, in my mind, it was never going to play out at all. It’s probably stupid, but I figured we’d never run into each other ever again. It sort of made things easier … thinking that.”
There was silence for a few beats and then Evan gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry about the loss of your baby, too.”
“Thanks.” David lifted his glass in a semblance of a toast before draining it. “He would’ve turned six in May.”
Evan’s heart broke a little at that. “Fuck, man.”
“Not telling you wasn’t personal,” David said quietly. “I didn’t talk about it with anyone. Ashley didn’t even know until that night at Bender’s.”
“It’s okay. We all have a few secrets.”