32. THE ONE WITH THE OUTRO
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THE ONE WITH THE OUTRO
Comment: So what? No one’s posting pictures and videos from @WestParkerComedy’s shows anymore? We want more Hex banter!!!!
Comment reply: I was at one of the NYC shows last week, and I never even saw Hex…
Comment reply: They were spotted at Hamilton together last week!
Comment reply: Yeah, but that was before his weekend of shows.
Comment reply: If they broke up I SWEAR
Comment: We don’t even know if they’re together to break up!
We eventually settle on tacos from a local place with high ratings. I order enough for Enzo and Kell and am coming back from my room with cash for a tip when I hear my recorded voice. “Hey, you sexy motherfuckers, listen to me.”
I pause at the top of the stairs, visible to Joey if she looks up from her computer. She’s editing a video of my outro, the same goodbye I’ve given since my very first show. I address the crowd differently, usually trying to incorporate some kind of joke from that night’s show at the end.
It rolls through a couple more variations, but the last part never changes. “Wear your seatbelt, don’t drink and drive, and tell your mom I said hi.”
Joey looks up finally, like she felt me staring. “Sorry, my headphones died, but I wanted to show you this anyway. I noticed you say it every night and thought—” She stills when I don’t move. “What?”
No one’s ever addressed my never-changing goodbye before. Everyone in my life just knows… People Google me and they know… Joey doesn’t know.
She pauses the video and pushes her laptop to the side. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Joey chuckles tightly, and I’m not sure if she realizes it, but I do.
I know her real laugh like my favorite song.
Aimlessly, I close the distance between me and Joey.
“Hmm,” I hum a laugh at the irony. “I’d love to see a ghost.” My therapist’s going to be proud.
Taking a deep breath, I decide to talk about it with someone who doesn’t know.
“Remember when I said I tore my ACL twice?” My muscles fight to relax when I sit on the edge of the couch, a cushion away from her.
I can almost see the question marks floating above Joey’s head. She’s confused, but she scoots closer to me. “Yeah?”
“After the first time, I went home for the rest of my junior semester. There were only a few weeks left, and I was cleared to take my exams online since I’d be in the middle of recovery from surgery.
” I remember focusing on one thing and one thing only…
Getting back on the ice for my senior season.
I didn’t play hockey for almost twenty years to let an overall minor ACL tear stop me from going all the way.
“I recovered well. My coaches and the university medical team were happy with my progression. NHL scouts seemed to still be interested in giving me a chance, depending on how I came back and played.”
Joey’s hand hovers over my leg, like she’s debating what I need.
I reach out and gently take it in mine, lowering it to my thigh.
The tattoos scattered across the delicate skin on the back of her hand give me something to focus on.
I run my thumb over the dainty faded sparkles, hoping it’ll distract me enough to disconnect from what I’m doing and just tell the story.
“I was going back to school in August but wouldn’t be cleared to start playing until around October, which meant I’d already be behind for the season, plus coming off an injury, but I was bound and determined. ”
I pause, stealing a look at Joey. She looks like she expects something bad, but how bad is she thinking? Her soft eyes make me swallow my fear.
It’s just Joey.
Joey’s a safe place to land.
“A bunch of my friends got together for an end of summer party the weekend before we all left to go back to school. By then I was walking fine, starting to skate with heavy restrictions. I was a young athlete in peak physical condition fighting for the only dream I’d ever had.
” It felt like there was nothing standing in my way.
“Kell and his best friend tagged along. They weren’t old enough to drink, but Micah didn’t drink anyway.
He never liked it.” Micah wasn’t just Kell’s best friend—he’d been mine too.
Joey’s a smart girl. I see the moment the clues click, and then look back down at her hand, focusing on the ivy trailing her wrist. “Kell was in the middle-backseat on our way home, because he always got carsick while riding through the dark country roads, but Micah was driving my car, so I wouldn’t let him sit up front.
” I’d been turned around talking to Kell…
I never saw the headlights of the pickup truck.
I have so little memory of the night, but I do remember the look on Kell’s face before everything went black.
Fear of death.
I hope I never see that look on anyone’s face ever again.
“A drunk driver ran a stop sign going sixty-five and T-boned us on Micah’s side.
Kell was ejected, somehow thankfully suffering the least injuries.
” I’m so fucking glad I didn’t give in and let him ride up front.
“I woke up in the hospital a week later to find out Kell had survived and was up and walking, but my ACL had torn again, I had a few broken ribs, I’d been in a medically induced coma for a week while my body healed from surgeries and internal bleeding, my hockey career was officially over, oh, and Micah—” It’s only been three years, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop missing him.
I definitely don’t believe I’ll stop feeling guilty.
“Micah was pronounced dead at the scene. So was the other driver.”
People think the man responsible being dead should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. Two people had to die. Two families lost someone they loved. Two best friends will never be the same…
I’m almost afraid to look at Joey again. I’ve never openly talked about this with someone who didn’t know him.
I didn’t have to tell Joey, though. I chose to. I want her to know about him.
“Is Micah your brother?” she asks gently.
Is… Not was. Regardless of life or death, Micah will always be my brother.
Forcing my eyes back to hers, I nod. “Yes.”
Joey’s face falls, and I recognize the guilt immediately. “We don’t have to post that, West. I’m so sorry…”
I’ve spent a lot of time breaking down over this. I’ve done so much fucking therapy but nothing has helped quite like making people laugh.
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. You can post it.”
She stares at me with a look I thought was worry at first, but realize it’s something so much better. I think Joey sees me. I don’t know how to explain it, but I think she knows I started comedy for Micah—not me.
Goddamn it, I think I love her.
I have to say something. I have to keep talking or I’m going to make a mistake and run her off.
“If it weren’t for Enzo being a brother to me when I’d lost mine, I don’t think I’d be here today.
I’d lost everything. My future. My dream.
And worst of all, my only sibling, but my parents had already lost one son.
They didn’t need to see me lose myself too.
” I’d felt so selfish grieving my hockey career—my brother had just died and I was sad about a meaningless sport.
“He let me crash on his couch in London, eventually forcing me to get a job at this comedy club down the road as a bartender because he was sick of seeing me rot.” I forget what a short period of time ago that was.
It sometimes feels like decades separate me from the person I’d been before the accident.
“As cliche as it is, comedy saved me, and my outro is a way to bring my brother into a part of my life that never would have existed had he not died.”
I would trade it all, every last bit of it, to get Micah back.
I’ve said those exact words a million times, but the ones I think next are new: as long as I get to keep Joey.
She surprises me by crawling into my lap and wrapping her arms around my torso in a hug I never would have asked her for but so desperately needed.
“Thank you for telling me about him,” Joey whispers with her ear against my chest, like she’s listening to make sure my heart’s still beating. “I’m glad you’re still here.”
I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on the top of her head. There’s no doubt in my mind anymore… “Thanks for giving me a reason to talk about him.”
I’m in love with Joey.
We stay in this spot until the front door on the first floor opens, and Kell’s voice echoes up the stairs. “There’s some dude here with tacos!”
Joey untangles herself from my arms and stands, taking all the warmth from my body with her.
“There better be enough for us!” Enzo calls. “Because I have a surprise!”
“And the surprise also loves tacos!” Frankie’s voice is followed by footsteps racing up the stairs.
“Franceska Sullivan, I knew you were up to something when your location froze after leaving my house today!” I stand up, watching as Joey races across the room to meet Frankie on the top of the stairs.
Frankie’s not even up the last step before she’s throwing herself into a hug. “Sorry! I found out I could leave today and texted Enzo to see if he’d pick me up so I could surprise you.”
“I thought it was so weird you were going to see a movie with Kell,” I tell Enzo as he comes up the stairs next.
Kell yells from the bottom of the staircase. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”
“Um, hello?” a voice calls, muffled by the half-closed front door.
“Shit, the tacos!” I shuffle my way through the crowded stairs, reaching into my pocket at the bottom while Kell takes the three pans from the guy and goes into the kitchen.
“Sorry about that.” I hand him forty dollars cash as an extra tip. “Drive safe. Thank you.” I close the door, turning to watch Frankie and Joey walk down the stairs together.
They’re engrossed in a conversation about some guitarist they both know. Frankie’s talking enthusiastically, using her hands to describe something, but she doesn’t notice that Joey’s looking at me.
I wait for them to get to the bottom of the stairs, holding Joey’s gaze until she has to break it and round the corner into the kitchen.
She’d said just friends, and I’ll respect that if it’s what she thinks she wants… but a friend has never sat in my lap and held me like Joey did.
“West, did you forget hot sau—never mind!” Kell calls from the kitchen.
I’m still standing by the front door when Joey peeks around the corner. “You coming, Hotshot?” she asks with a dark brow raised.
I nod and puff a laugh when she winks and disappears. “Friends, my ass,” I mumble to myself as I join everyone in the kitchen for family dinner.