“So if you appeal to them that if it was their grandparent, what would they want for them, you’ll gain traction by appealing to their empathy. I formed a charity that helps underprivileged teens learn about personal finance and investments so they aren’t in the dark and can create a better future for themselves.”
Tempest smiles, “That’s amazing!”
An awkward pause and side glance later, and Josh continues explaining solely to Christina, “If you formed a non-profit that funds basic, necessary home improvements for seniors who can’t afford it, that enables donors to do good and get the benefits of a tax write-off. I could help you with it.”
“Would you?!” Christina explodes, “Really?! Would you?!”
“Sure. Of course.”
“A miracle!” I shout.
He growls, “Nax!”
“You’re not my project, I know!” I clap his shoulder and settle back into my chair with a satisfied, “Her charity is your project and that’s huge.”
“I’m just going to help.”
“You’re going to have something great to occupy your time with. This is a worthwhile cause!”
He stares at me. “Nax.”
“What?”
Bennett’s impatience breaks free. “Are you so in it you can’t lighten up when Nax is clearly busting your balls? Get a sense of humor, would ya?”
Zia whispers, “Who wants a shot before the boys get back?” We all turn to her, and she shrugs one shoulder. “Just one?”
I leap from my chair, quick strides zigzagging through tables to take me inside where I find a female bartender three deep with thirsty customers. “Six shots of Jameson. I’m in a rush.”
“Kinda busy.”
“We’re trying to beat the return of our sons.”
She grabs a bottle from below and slams it on the counter. Snatches six slender shot glasses from behind her, three in each hand, and slams those down, too, expertly filling them up with zero splash. “I’ve got kids.”
My eyebrows twitch, and I point to our table. “Add it to that bill. Can I borrow a tray?”
In seconds I’m serving with far less skill, making Bennett glare as his splashes more than he’d like. Christina switches their glasses, taking the half-full one, and I reclaim my seat.
Whiskey raised, Zia smirks, “To being sneaky adults!”
Everyone drinks through grins, and winces from its speedy burn, handing me glasses I dash back on my co-conspirator, the tray.
Laying down a thank-you twenty dollar bill on the bar, I turn to find Zia walking up like she’s on a fashion runway, and pause. “Well hello!”
She points past me. “Ladies room.”
“Ah.”
I move to let her by, but find myself stepping in front of her at the last second, forcing her chin to lift in question. “I’m separated, Zia. Just have to file the papers.” She blinks, speechless. Suddenly self-conscious, I drag a hand through my hair. “Didn’t know I was going to say that.”
She frowns, “It works fast.”
“What does?”
“The whiskey.”
“It’s not that.” We stare at each other, and I say it more firmly. “Just have to file the papers.”
She tenses and steps back. “That’s what they all say, though, isn’t it, Nax?”
Now it’s my turn to be speechless as I watch her pass me, crowd coming back to life and swallowing her whole.
Nax
It’s just us six now, our sons walking ahead on Hudson Street as Bennett lowers his volume. “Something happen between you and Zia?”
“Shoveled my foot into this.” I point to my mouth.
Awakening to someone’s problems other than his own, Josh asks, “Wait. When did this happen? I didn’t notice anything.”
Bennett grunts, “You were too busy being rude to my girlfriend’s sister.”
“I wasn’t being rude!” Reacting off of Benny’s raised eyebrow Josh concedes, “Just didn’t want to give her the wrong impression, that’s all.”
“That you’re a nice person?”
Josh’s eyes steel. “I’m not ready to date! You shouldn’t have set me up.”
“I didn’t.”
I’m not a fan of discord so I smile with patience, “Josh, I think he’s trying to say it was just mini golf with even numbers. Bennett invited Zia without telling me, so Christina must’ve thought she couldn’t leave her sister out. Three three three.”
Our grieving friend blinks down to pavement older than us and our sons put together. “She likes me. I could feel it.”
Bennett grunts, “Don’t know how.”
I laugh, “Back to me?” smacking their shoulders since I’m between them. “We were discussing me and my tasty foot.”
I explain what happened. It’s a short story that gets raised eyebrows and no consolation. We arrive at Josh’s place first, us saying goodbye to Bennett and Elliot, with Joe and Will calling after their redheaded friend, “Come play video games with us tomorrow!”
“Can I, Dad?”
“Sure. Bring the dogs.”
That wins Bennett a grin that shows every tooth. “What time?”
One o’clock is settled, and we walk into an apartment building once used for textile distribution, exposed piping left in for style. In the elevator up, our sons are quiet — probably tired — until Joe looks up at me. “She’s pretty, Dad.”
Surprised, I blink at him. “Who?”
“Zia,” he says matter-of-factly, adding, “She’s very pretty. Nice, too.”
This is sensitive territory, but he seems so relaxed I’m taken aback and have to ask, “Why are you telling me this?”
“You like her, don’t you? Elliot and Will told me you were talking about her last night on the subway while I was sleeping.”
Oof.
He walks off the elevator, with Will trailing as if he didn’t kick me in the gut.
Josh and I stare at each other, not moving. Undecided on what to do about this, we follow the boys toward the apartment and my back straightens in surprise as I lock eyes with a man walking toward us, his hazel eyes with weathered wrinkles narrowing as our gazes hold. Time slows down and as he passes I stop walking to watch his unhurried gait. Keys jingle in a distant reality as Josh opens his door, voice far away calling, “Nax?”
But this feeling I can’t ignore is back, one I can’t quite get my mind around. I call after the man with grey and ginger hair, “Can I help you?”
Pushing the button, he turns
