twenty-two
OLLIE
NO ONE WAS more shocked than I was when Reid actually called a few days later. I’d been positive our next interaction would be when I attended his class on Sunday, but the guy had more guts than I’d given him credit for. I’d just gotten out of the shower after a low-key workday, getting ready to head downtown for dinner and beers with Mike and Deb, when my cell buzzed.
“Hi, this is Reid. You know, the one who spazzed in your car the other day? I told you I’d call when I was over your way, and…well, I’m over your way,” he said when I answered.
I was glad in that moment that he wasn’t standing right in front of me, because the smile that took over my whole face then would’ve given away my true feelings for sure.
“I’m glad you did,” I said.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well…are you busy right now?”
“Actually, I was on my way out.”
“Oh.” The disappointment in his voice stirred something inside me, bringing that damn flicker of hope back to full flame. “Maybe next time, then.”
“If you don’t mind a couple of loudmouth friends of mine giving you an inquisition over drinks, how would you feel about joining us?”
“Join you and your friends? Um…”
“No pressure. Mike can be a bit of a handful, though Deb’s not much better, but they’re entertaining as hell and they’ll love you.”
“I don’t know that your friends would be okay with you bringing some weirdo stranger around. I can just give you a call next time I’m in the neighborhood.”
“Reid?”
“Yeah?”
“You haven’t met weird until you’ve met these two.”
“Is that supposed to convince me to go?” he said, laughing.
“I think it means you need to see them for yourself to believe it. Then maybe you’ll realize how normal you are.”
“I seriously doubt that, but it sounds like an interesting challenge.”
Say yes. Say yes.I was trying not to beg here.
“Are you sure they’ll be okay with me tagging along?”
“Are you kidding? They’ll be so grateful to have someone else to talk to besides me that they’ll probably kick me out of the group.” When he laughed again, I said, “Come on. It’ll do you some good to get out and meet a few people, and the food’s damn good too. Whaddya say?”
Reid laughed. “I say you put up a good argument. I think you convinced me, if only to meet the weirdos.”
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up in ten.”
“See you then.”
“YOU’RE SHITTIN’ ME,” Mike shouted from where we sat at a high-top at Wilder’s, a restaurant-slash-bar downtown. I’d gotten a couple of beer pitchers for the table, and he’d been busy pouring himself a glass when I broke the news that Reid had come with me. Good timing for him to be washing his hands when double trouble arrived.
“Keep your damn voice down,” I said.
“Hell no I’m not keeping my voice down. He’s here?”