“How about you ban him for life from this mall, Fred?” Radley suggested to the security guard. “I’ll file a report tomorrow if you want.”
“Okay,” said the guard amicably.
“Lifetime mall ban,” Radley called, and the crowd cheered.
“I already have a hundred and six retweets and a thousand likes!” said the hashtagging person. “Donnie, you’re going viral. Bet you lose your job tomorrow.”
Josh and Radley were told they could go.
“Thanks for standing up for me. And the waitress,” Radley said as they walked to the car. “You’re a total badass. Seriously. That stuff is scary no matter how many times you hear it.”
Josh nodded.
As they got in the car, he remembered where he’d seen the waitress. At the vet. She’d had the really old dog. Rhode Island and its two degrees of separation.
Fifteen minutes later, they were in the Falconry, a gay bar over by Providence College. The place was bathed in red light, and the bass of club music pulsed through it. It wasn’t horribly loud, or that crowded, though Radley said by midnight, the place would be packed.
They took a seat in a booth, which was spacious and comfortable. The waiter came over. “Drinks, gentlemen?”
“I’ll have the watermelon mojito,” Radley said. “Joshua? What would you like? Drinks on me, since you protected my honor. Dinner, too, if you’re hungry.”
He started to say he didn’t drink, then changed his mind. “Same,” he said.
“Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Nachos, then,” Radley told the server. “They’re fantastic here,” he said to Josh. “You won’t regret it.”
It was so strange, being out with someone he didn’t know. In a gay bar, no less. After a fight. He couldn’t wait to tell—
Nope. He didn’t get to tell Lauren these things anymore.
Too bad. She would’ve loved this story.
Radley settled back and looked at Josh. His blue eyes were very kind. “So. Tell me about your wife.”
An unexpectedly direct order. Josh took a breath and let it out slowly. “Um . . . her name was Lauren. She had . . .” How much did Radley want to know? He wasn’t good at reading people. “She was diagnosed with a terminal illness about a year after we got married.”
“I’m so sorry. She was the love of your life?”
“Yes.” It felt oddly good to acknowledge that.
“I bet you two were the cutest couple ever.”
Josh pulled out his phone and brought up a picture of them on their wedding day and showed it to Radley.
“Oh, my God, she’s a Disney princess.” He stared at the phone. “You look super happy.”
“We were.”
The drinks came, and Josh took his first ever sip of alcohol. The drink was minty and sweet and went down easily. There was a slight, not-unpleasant burn in his throat, which must have been whatever alcohol was in a mojito.
“So, uh . . .” Josh said. Lauren was always the one who initiated conversation. What would she say? “Tell me about yourself, Radley. Is that your first name?”
“Yes. Radley Beauchamp. And my parents were shocked that I was gay. I told them if they’d named me Joe, I’d be an ironworker with a wife and four kids by now.” He laughed, and Josh smiled obligingly. “Not much to tell, really. I work at Banana Republic, I have two sisters, I grew up in rural Maine and I’m going to school part-time to become a licensed therapist.”
“No wonder you were so good in the store. Thank you for that.” To hide his embarrassment, he took a long sip of his drink. Really tasty.
“Thank you,” Radley said. “I appreciate it. My parents hated me being gay, because they’re the type of Mainers who love camping, Jesus, and squirrel for Sunday dinner. So what’s a gay kid to do except leave home and become a shrink?”
“It’s a great profession.” He assumed so, anyway. He’d never been to one.
“What do you do, Joshua?”
“I’m a medical device engineer.”
“That makes you sound very smart.”
He shrugged. When the waiter asked if they wanted another round, he said yes.
They talked about life in Providence, drank, and ate nachos. There was definitely some comfort in talking to someone who didn’t share his loss, didn’t have memories of Lauren, didn’t miss her.
“So . . . my wife wrote these letters for me,” he told Radley. “That’s why I was shopping tonight. She told me to get new clothes.”
“Wise woman,” Radley murmured.
Josh smiled. “She was.”
“Maybe there’s more to getting new clothes than new clothes.”
“You definitely sound like a therapist now.”
Radley smiled. “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. And sometimes it isn’t.”
A man came up to their table and slid in next to Radley. “Hey, Radley. Who’s your friend?”
“Joshua . . . whoops, I don’t know your last name.”
“Park.”
“I’m Todd, Joshua, and I think you’re super attractive.”
“Nope,” said Radley. “He’s straight and his wife just died, okay? Some space, if it’s not too much?”
“Oh, shit, I’m so, so sorry,” the man said, backing away. “So sorry. My condolences.”
Then Josh was laughing, all of a sudden. Maybe it was the alcohol, because he did feel sort of spinny and light, or maybe it was the other end of his sob-fest in the dressing room, but he laughed and laughed, and Radley sat back and watched him. “His name is Todd,” Josh explained. Why that was funny, he didn’t know. But it was.
Radley shook his head and smiled. “I’ll drive your car back to your place,” he said, like a wise old uncle. “I can Uber from there.”
“I’ll pay for it,” Josh said. “These nachos are really, really good.”
An hour or so later, Josh was in bed. Radley had typed his name and number into Josh’s phone, took a selfie of the two of them for the contact picture and got into the Lyft Josh had summoned for him.
Josh was dizzy and floating and not sad. Well, not just sad. He was a little bit happy.
He’d had— Was it true? He’d almost had fun tonight. He’d punched someone. He had clothes that Lauren hadn’t bought and had never seen, and for some reason, that made him feel better.