Page 29 of Wants and Needs
“I’m sorry I didn’t call. I was distracted all day and couldn’t even think about inviting anyone over.”
“It’s all right.” He’s speaking in a way too calm voice. I’m instantly suspicious.
“I’ll be home later.”
“Why don’t you have dinner somewhere else, and that way you’ll still have a social life?”
His question stops me short. What is going on?
“Uh...” I stall, not knowing what to say. “I could do that,” I hedge.
“Good. I did some looking around in a few of the rooms today and I’m making a list for CJ, so I won’t have time for anything special for dinner.”
“Yes, of course,” I rush to agree. “You can rest for the evening, Milton, and we’ll talk tomorrow over breakfast.”
“Good,” he says simply, and then we just say our goodbyes and hang up.
I wish I had a minute or two at least to think about that weird-ass conversation, but a deep baritone and then a younger-sounding voice on the main floor of the gallery catch my attention and my breath stalls completely.
That’s Liam’s voice, and London’s.
I’m frozen on my desk chair, not knowing what to even think while trying to make out whatever it is they’re saying, when I hear Sebas talk too. I can tell they’re moving away from the back wall, and without being able to listen clearly, see them, or even move, I’m drowned in my own thoughts.
For the first time since I forced myself to stop a week ago, I think about Liam and that incredible conversation we had on the grassy hill at the Storm Ranch.
I remember how struck I was when, after returning to the party central and hanging out there for less than fifteen minutes, his parents approached our group and announced they were leaving.
Liam stood up and waved at us with a smile. He said a simple goodbye, belatedly seemed to remember the reason for the party and wished CJ a happy birthday, and then he just walked away.
I was left speechless for a while.
Until George hummed from next to me and muttered, “Weird.”
I snapped at him, “Shut up.” And in his usual way, he said he meant it as a general observation, not an insult.
I believed him then, and I still do now.
Just like I remember how I told myself over and over that Liam didn’t mean to dismiss us rudely. He just heard it was time to leave and so he left.
Now I’m going to see him again—if I ever step out of the office—and the prospect of building an actual friendship with someone who isn’t grossly in love and planning a life with their perfect match is something I can’t pass up.
I love my friends, I really,reallydo.
And I’m incredibly happy and relieved that they’ve all found what they’ve dreamed of.
But just once in a while I do wish I had someone to ask out for dinner or a few drinks and to have all their attention.
Not all the time, not for the whole dinner, but just for them to ask me how I’m doing and have them listen to me for as long as I need to talk.
I’d do the same for them.
Idothe same for them.
And I get it, they share their whole lives now with these people, and of course that’s what they want to talk about.
And now, just thinking about it I feel like a dickhead.
Fucking great.
