Page 118 of Tarek

I grip the steering wheel trying to regulate my emotions and thoughts. I’m startled by the sound of the phone. It’s Zeeta. Taking a deep breath, I shake whatever feeling I have off and I answer the phone with all the joy that I could muster.

“Hey, Mrs. Banner-to-be,” I shout.

“Ahhh. Hey, babe, I am already here at the spa. Are you on your way?”

I look the packed duffle bag sitting on my back seat. “Of course, I am.”

“Great. See you when you get here. Love yah.”

“Love yah.” The call ends, and I allow myself to feel for two more minutes. But this weekend is not about me. My bestie is getting married to Rhet Banner and I am going to make sure she gets down that aisle happy.

* * *

TAREK

There is comfort in whacking the shit out of white balls. It’s the easiest way to take your frustration out.

WHACK! I watch the ball as it passes the blue flag.

“Take it easy, T,” Jasper comments leaning on the golf club.

I ignore them as I pass my club to my caddy.

Cole lines up his club and ball, hits it across the green. He swings and, of course, it’s perfect.

“Did that shit go in the hole?” Rhet asks.

Cole grins and pulls his cigar out of his mouth. “I never have trouble finding a hole,”

Jasper rolls his eyes and exchanges his golf club with his caddy.

The conversation floats around me, I think about the invisible wall that Penny instantly built around herself. It’s like I said I love you and she froze. Now I call and she is too busy to answer the phone? Something is wrong. Maybe I should have kept that I love you to myself. Maybe I am flying a little too close to the sun? I should give her the necklace and let her go. But I don’t think I can.

Cole clears his throat. “What time are you leaving for Singapore?”

I hear Cole, but I am too preoccupied with the thought of Penny.

Something hits the back of my head. “The fuck? Did you just hit me?”

Cole laughs out loud. “When is your flight?”

“I leave around seven in the morning after the wedding.” I rub the back of my head where Cole slapped.

“What’s your problem?” Dax asks, as he shoves my shoulder.

“What’s my problem? Why the fuck are you wearing glasses?” I joke moving the spotlight off of me.

“I have a stigmatism,” Dax replies.

“He is an old man,” Cole adds, with the cigar tucked into the corner of his mouth.

Dax shakes his head and grins. “Can you see the ‘fuck you’in my smile Cole?”

Cole scratches the underside of his beard. “I can and I don’t need glasses to see it either.”

We all burst out laughing. Cole flips Dax his middle finger.

Dax adjust his thin silver frame, up his nose with his own middle finger.

---