Page 7 of The Heartstrings of Harry
And in my pocket, my phone buzzed.
I pulled it out and saw the name on the screen. “Andy, my friend. I hope you’re ready to get your ass kicked tonight… again.”
“Again? What are you talking about? You’re the one who still doesn’t know a straight from a pair, even after twenty years of this shit. I’m beginning to think you only come for the beers and snacks. Ooh, speaking of snacks, the reason for my call… would you mind swinging by Old Man Raven’s and picking up a few things?”
“Don’t tell me, you forgot to get snacks.”
“It’s notmyfault. I was busy at the liquor store looking for some damn fancy tequila for Dean when he arrives tomorrow. Do you have any idea how many fancy tequilas there are out there? Tequila ain’t just something you drink in a dive bar in Tijuana anymore. Oh no. There’s one hundred percent blue agave tequila, the gold bottle tequila, oh and let’s not forget the tequila that’s slow cooked in clay ovens built by the Aztecs. For Pete’s sake, it’stequila, not baby back ribs. Hell, even George Clooney has his own line of tequila.”
“Did you find the one Dean likes?”
“Yes. No. Maybe. I grabbed a bottle that cost more than my first car but less than my second.”
“That ain’t saying much, Andy.”
“All’s I’m saying is, the tequila I got him was expensive enough. I figure that oughta do. Besides, he’s twenty-one, what would he know about tequila anyway?”
“I dunno, but he’s been hanging out with all those celebrities on the West Coast for over a year now.”
“So?”
“So, all’sI’msaying is, Dean’s all grown up now. He might know a lot of things we don’t.”
“Jesus, Harry! Don’t say that, you’re making me feel old.”
I laughed. “That’s because weareold, Andy.”
“No we’re not. We’re still in our thirties. We still know how to have fun, don’t we?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell my best friend he’d forgotten my birthday yet again, as I knew he would. I checked my watch. Mom had told me I was born just before six in the evening, at a time when the moon and sun were both in the sky, one handing their job over to the other. She said that’s where I got my work ethic from, two heavenly bodies who kept going all day and all night.
It was well past six now.
Nope, I wasn’t in my thirties anymore.
I didn’t have the heart to tell Andy that for me, the clock had just ticked over into my forties, not to mention that our idea of “fun” was playing poker once a week… and had been for as long as we both could remember. Not that I had anything to complain about. That was about as much fun as I needed—hanging with my best friend, playing terrible poker, losing a few bucks, and sinking a few beers.
“Yes, Andy. We still know how to have fun,” I told him. “Now how many bags of pretzels do we need?”
“Two. No, three. And some beer nuts. And microwave popcorn. But maybe give the beef jerky a miss this time round.”
“But you love beef jerky.Ilove beef jerky.”
“Yeah, I know. But it doesn’t seem like the kinda thing a gentleman should eat in front of a lady.”
I stopped in my tracks. “What do you mean, ‘in front of a lady’? Did you invite Maggie to poker night again, because the last time you did that she ended up with half the deck up her sleeves and three aces down her pants.”
“No, it’s not Maggie I invited.”
“Who is it then?”
* * *
“Harry Dalton, please meet Madeline Montgomery. Madeline, this is Harry.”
I stood wide-eyed in the doorway, surprised and somewhat confused that Andy would invite someone none of us knew to poker night. “Oh. Hello. I’m—”
“Harry, yes I know,” Madeline half -laughed. “Andy just introduced us, remember?” Even though it was little more than a chuckle, I could tell she had one of those infectious laughs that could make everyone in the room smile… which is what I did.
