How can he, after only a month and half, read me and my feelings so well? “I can’t.”
“Because whatever it is, it’s about your son?”
My chest hurts. I don’t want to keep the two most important men in my life separated, but I can’t disappoint Jase. I won’t introduce him to someone who at any moment could walk away, especially now that he’s dealing with new pressures at school. “Yes.”
“He’s not ill, is he?”
I’m taken aback by the audible concern in Malcolm’s tone. “No. It’s nothing like that.”
“That’s good. How old is he?”
“Five,” I say with an exaggerated breath.
“Really? What grade is he in? Is he in kindergarten?”
Malcolm’s excitement surprises me. “Yes, but it hasn’t been an easy transition. I was hoping it would go smoother. I’m afraid I’m the one to blame.”
“Why? How are you to blame?”
“My attention has been diverted.”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to assign responsibility. There are many things that can affect the transition to kindergarten. What’s happening, specifically? I know we've agreed not to talk about things too personal such as our jobs, but I work with—”
“No fucking way!” Brian’s voice supersedes our conversation.
I break out in laughter as Sally and Brian approach the table, and Malcolm’s mouth falls open as he stands up to greet them.
Brian is about Malcolm’s age but the exact opposite in appearance. Not as in one is handsome and the other isn’t. It’s that where Malcolm’s hair is dark, Brian’s is light, very light, what some would call a towhead. Looking at the two men standing side by side, they’re built very similarly: tall, broad shoulders, fit bodies with trim waists and solid chests. It’s not hard to believe that they are both former professional athletes.
Sally’s smile and her hazel eyes that I adore are shining as brightly as mine. We wink at one another, relishing our success. We’d figured out what neither one of these two men could or did.
“Brian? What the hell are you...?” Malcolm turns toward Sally and extends his hand. “Sally, it’s nice to see you again.”
“And you too, Pep,” my best friend says with a knowing expression.
Malcolm turns toward me. “Pep is an old nickname, short for Peppernick.” Malcolm scoots back into the booth next to me as Brian and Sally slide in the other side. Malcolm goes on, “Brian and I played hockey…” His words trail as my smile grows. “You know?” He scans the other faces. Only Brian is as confused as Malcolm appears to be.
“We just figured it out the other day when Amanda finally mentioned your name,” Sally explains.
“Wait...these are your friends?” Malcolm asks. “Sally is your friend? You’re Sally’s friend?”
It’s like watching pieces of a puzzle slide together. Like one of those computer games where once the player gets so far and winning is inevitable, the computer does the rest.
Click.
Snap.
Connect.
“Yep,” I reply. “We’ve been friends forever. Actually, she’s my best friend.”
“Hold up! What does this mean? If you’re Sally’s friend, then does it mean that I’m...” Malcolm points to himself. “...the poor sap with erection issues?”
We all burst out laughing.
“No, that doesn’t seem to be a problem.” I whisper my response, hoping that only Malcolm hears, but with the fresh outbreak of laughter and the way my cheeks warm, I’m certain that isn’t the case. And then I have the revelation I hadn’t thought of before. The other half of the equation hits me. I turn toward Brian. “Hey, that means I’m nice, as in uglier than shit?” My eyes open wide and lips purse to the side in a sassy look as I await his response.
“No! I didn’t say that,” Brian speaks fast. “I said nice. I meant nice. Come on, Amanda. You are nice.”
“Amanda?” Malcolm says. “Of course. I think you may have even said her first name. I didn’t fucking put it together.”
“What?” Sally asks.
“Mandy is short for Amanda.”
Sally’s eyes open wide.
I haven’t gone by Mandy since Jackson. The only reason I used that name when Malcolm and I first met was because of what my mother had said. Since then, it’s stuck.
“Yes, it is,” she confirms, eyeing me suspiciously while silently demanding more information.
“Well, fuck,” Brian says with a grin. “Let’s drink on this new development.”
Malcolm nods. “Sure, man, the drinks are on you. You’re going to owe me drinks for a long time for telling women I have issues. Hell, I think you’ll get the dinner bill too.”
Brian shrugs. “I didn’t say you had issues. I said I was concerned.” He reaches across the table and punches Malcolm’s arm. “Friendly concern, that’s all.” He looks directly at me. “I’m glad to know everything is functional.”
My cheeks grow warm again.
“Yep, the nun has left the building,” Sally says with a smirk.
The entire table rings with laughter as the waitress arrives to take our order.
Chapter Eighteen
Malcolm
It’s been a little over two weeks since Mandy and Sally enlightened Brian and me to the intrigue of Mandy’s and my first night. In hindsight, I wonder how we hadn’t put it all together. My only excuse is that I was too smitten with Mandy to even consider that she was the nice friend of Sally’s.
I was wrong when I’d worried that Brian was the same as he was years ago. He’s changed too. I’d say we’ve both grown up. Our time together on the team was as they say ‘the time of our life.’ While some people find it hard to move on from those kind of glory days, we both seem to have done it. While I went into teaching, Brian went into physical therapy. He still has some more school to finish—right now he’s a physical therapy assistant—but he’s working as he takes classes to become a physical therapist. Currently, he is working with a center that concentrates primarily on the elderly. He said all those hours spent in ice baths and enduring therapy piqued his interest in the field. He says he owes his ability to walk and rock Sally’s world—okay, he hasn’t totally changed—to the medical trainers and physical therapists who tended to him and his multiple injuries.
It’s a pay-it-forward kind of thing. Now, he wants to do for others what was done for him.
His commitment to his patients is what derailed the blind date. It’s why he and Sally never made it to the restaurant. One of the patients whom he sees regularly had an unexpected fall, injuring himself. When Brian got the call, he felt obligated to check on the elderly man.
Who would have suspected under our slick playboy exteriors there were grown men who could handle real responsibilities?
Now that we’ve all reconnected, Brian and mostly Sally, helped me to nearly accomplish a miracle. Okay, maybe it’s not a miracle. Those are miraculous feats like virgin births and turning water into wine. However, if you ask me, this is close.