Page 25 of A Very No Strings Halloween
“I mean, if I’m being honest, I do feel left out sometimes now. They give me shit—that’s what we do, we give each other shit. But when I’m with my family, like at my grandad’s birthday last week…I don’t really feel so much like the last man standing so much as I feel like I’m that Sicilian guy who’s always rolling the boulder up a hill by himself? Cicero?”
I smile at that. “Sisyphus. Greek.”
“Yeah. Homer, right? Anyway, I guess when you get down to it, I’m just glad I was a part of that winding road they were on. And I want to end up where they are at the end of the day. Those are the people I love and respect the most. My grandparents and my parents and Nolan and Dec and Eddie—all those guys. I don’t want to feel left behind. I think I’m just…” He finally looks up from the glass, glancing at me for one warm second. “I dunno. I know I’m a lot. But I think I got a lot to give someone. I just need that someone to believe I’ve got what it takes to be in a relationship enough for the both of us.”
Well. Shit.
“Billy O’Sullivan,” I say almost dreamily, even though I feel more awake than I’ve felt in years. “I am certain you will find someone who believes you’ve got what it takes.” He looks so disappointed all of a sudden, I reach out to touch his hand, and he just stares at my hand until I take it away. “Here I thought you were a wiseass, but you are, in fact, a wise soul. With a good heart.”
He opens his mouth to say something and then shuts it. He almost looks shy all of a sudden, which is not a look I ever thought I’d see on Billy Boston’s face.
“What?” I ask. “What were you going to say?”
“Nothing—I was just gonna make a joke. But then I decided to take in what you said.” He stares into hisglass again, swirls the ice around again, and says, “Thank you. Coming from you, that means a lot. If you meant it.”
“Of course I meant it.”
“Cool. Well, I think you’re all the good things too.”
Why is that so cute? “Surely notallof them.”
“All the ones I can think of. Probably a lot more.” He places the tumbler down on the table as if it weighs a ton and then swipes his hand across his lips, looks at me, and says, “I think maybe you bring out the best in me, Red.” Then he picks up the glass again and empties it into his mouth.
That mouth.
“Was that a line?” I instantly wish I hadn’t asked because if it was, I don’t think I want to know.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve meant everything I’ve ever said to you, Donna Fischer.”
“A-plus” is all I have to say to that. “You know, at this point in a date, if things are going well, it’s appropriate to reach across the table and hold your date’s hand,” I offer.
When he hesitates to reach for my hand, I say, “It’s going well. Take my hand.”
He does.
And I start leaning in for a kiss…but then Saverio and, like, a thousand other people who work here parade out of the kitchen. Saverio’s holding one slice of cake with a sparkler onit, and he and the other servers are warming up and humming “Happy Birthday” to someone at a table near us. It’s a table of ten people, and the birthday girl appears to be a lady in her late seventies.
Billy lets go of my hand, his full attention now given to the birthday girl—who, as far as I know, is a total stranger to him. He stands up and joins in the singing.
“Happy birthday to youse!” he yell-sings.“Happy birthday toooo yooouuuuuse! Happy birthday, dear—” He waits to hear the name of the person he’s serenading. “Robertaaaahhhhh! Happy wicked fuckin’ awesome birthday toooo yoooouuuuuse!” He claps—so loudly it startles me. “Aaaaand many moooorrrrrre!” he chants as he jogs over to her table, picks her up out of her chair, twirls her around, and dips her. Then he gives Roberta a big old wicked awesome surprising kiss on her chubby cheek.
I hold my breath as I wait to see if Billy’s going to get slapped or not.
He doesn’t get slapped.
Roberta is absolutely delighted by him, and it might be my imagination but it seems to me that her hand slips as she hugs him and clumsily grabs his butt under his suit jacket.
I join in the applause, of course. I am very happy for Roberta. Not super happy that Billy’s pulled up a chair to join her at her table and she’s feeding him abite of her cake, though. Definitely not pleased that he seems to have completely forgotten me over here as he introduces himself to everyone else in her party.
I mean, it’s charming. It’s not like I don’t appreciate his joie de vivre and his interest in other people. It’s just that it has become clear to me that it doesn’t take much to earn Billy Boston’s attention. You just have to exist and be in front of him. So that’s another note I can give him in the interest of teaching him how to hypothetically date someone.
And honestly, I’m a little relieved. Not hurt at all. Relieved. Because his charm was working on me. But now that I realize he makes these connections witheveryone, my heart goes right back into its protective sleeve. We were connecting because that’s what Billy does. There wasn’t something special brewing between us. And that kind of connection is as fleeting as some of my relationships with my patients.
Here one minute.
Gone the next.
Like I said, I’m relieved. This means we can keep doing the no-strings thing until he gets himself a girlfriend. This means we aren’t getting attached.
