Page 43 of The End of Summer

“Brady,” she says, her voice softer than it was last night. “Why am I here?”

“For the fine culinary experience?” I joke.

“I mean it. Why’d you wait up?”

“I, uh. I wanted to talk to you. About that woman.”

“You mean, the love of your life?”

“Oh my God, nothing could be further from reality. Also, I had some questions for you – namely, since when are you a pole dancer? I thought your job was glorified shot girl.”

“Cherry called in sick,” she explains. “What about you?”

“Huh?” I ask.

“Well, you’re one to talk – I thought last night was a one-time thing for you? What – you had a taste of the limelight and now you’re addicted?”

I laugh. “Not the limelight, nope.”

“The money?”

I shrug, hoping my honesty won’t make me seem soft or desperate or worse, entirely financially unstable. But Gretchen just nods in silent understanding. “Okay, so we’ve got several items on the late-night chat agenda, then,” I say. “I’d like to start with Miranda, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Sure thing,” she says. “Shoot.”

“I dated her back in college.”

“Lucky you.”

“Then she slept with someone else behind my back.”

“Oh,” Gretchen says, her expression changing from Himalayan-salty to cloudy with a chance of ramen noodles.

“And as if that wasn’t enough, thewifeof the person she cheated on me with decided to set fire to the sorority house where shewas living.”

“Holy shit! Seriously?”

“Mm hmm,” I nod. “Which resulted in Miranda moving across the country, only to show up at my place of employ all these years later.”

“You mean,myplace of employ?”

“Correct.”

“Wow. That is not what I thought.”

“What did you think, exactly?”

“Old girlfriend, sure. Reminded of all the good times she had with you, on account of getting a glimpse of you in your little baseball outfit.”

“You make it sound like I’m a little league champion.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well, as explained, you had it all wrong. And I kind of knew that you were harboring some misguided notions, which was why I wanted to clear the air.”

“You don’t owe me anything, though,” she points out.

“I know. But I wanted you to know.”