CHAPTER 13

THE PARTY NEVER quite recovered after Tammy’s toast. Friends continued to mingle, chili-ing their dogs and partaking in celebratory beverages, but there was the ever-looming elephant in the room. Chris and her dads talked in hushed voices while Jonathan made sure Strangleman was okay. Roheed walked up to the table where Charlie and Jill were sitting, Jill’s hand casually on Charlie’s knee.

“Hello friends,” Roheed said apologetically. “I don’t mean to defecate on the festivities but I’m going to head home.”

Jill made a cute frowny face. “Aww.”

“We were going to ride together,” Charlie said.

“I’ll take mass transit. I’d like time to think anyway.”

Charlie shrugged. “If you want.”

Roheed nodded.

Jill called out “Be safe!” after him as he left the joint. Roheed walked toward the McPherson Square metro station, deep in thought. Scott sidled out of the shadows and followed him. Scott wasn’t the stealthiest tracker, but Roheed was so wrapped up, thinking and overthinking his message to Florence, that he didn’t notice his tail. He got on the Orange Line headed towards New Carrolton. The conductor garbled over the PA something about the next stop being Metro Center in a voice that sounded like a drunk alien was speaking Chinese on a speakerphone underwater. Scott got on the next car and watched Roheed through the dirty glass that separated the train’s segments.

• • •

Back at Ben’s, Tammy was sitting by herself, picking at the carcass of a half-eaten chili-veggie dog. She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Jonathan.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said.

“Can we go for a walk?” Jonathan gestured with his head ever so slightly toward the street that lay outside.

Tammy nodded.

They walked down a sparsely populated Washington, DC, street. Natty Boh beer signs hung in liquor store windows. Drum-heavy go-go beats thumped from car stereos. Jonathan and Tammy’s faces were alternately bathed in the green then yellow then red of traffic signals.

“What you said in there, it was . . .” Jonathan began, slowly. “Well, I was going to say it was nice, but that’s not really what it was. It was true for the most part, and pretty funny in a weird way.” He thought about how he was going to end the statement he had bungee-jumped into. “I guess I’m trying to say thanks for saying it, whatever it was.”

Tammy stopped, causing Jonathan to stop as well, and she looked into his eyes. “I really am sorry, Jonathan.”

Jonathan looked away, down the street into the distance. “I guess I know that.”

Tammy continued to look squarely at Jonathan while Jonathan avoided her gaze. “I want to be in your life.”

“I haven’t had you in my life for too long,” Jonathan said, turning to meet Tammy’s stare. “I don’t need you in my life.”

Jonathan hadn’t meant that to hurt, but it did, and Tammy looked down at the ground, stinging.

Jonathan continued, “But maybe we can try. We can try some lunches and maybe some dinners after that. Potentially a breakfast at some point.”

“It would mean a lot if we could try a lunch.”

There was a pregnant pause. When the water broke, Jonathan asked, “Where do you even live by the way?”

“Bowie,” Tammy answered. Jonathan opened his mouth to respond, but Tammy shook her head. “I know, I know. It’s temporary.”

“I guess we could meet at the Town Center,” Jonathan sighed. “They have a DuClaw there.”

Tammy smiled. “I would like that.”

And knowing it was the right thing to do, Jonathan said, “And heck, you should probably come to the wedding, too.”

Tammy’s face lit up—literally—from red to green, because a traffic signal changed at that very moment. But still, she looked pretty happy too. “Oh, Jonathan!” she said, and she gave him a big hug.

Although he was trying to hold it in, Jonathan kind of smiled a little before giving her a one-armed hug back and then emancipating himself from her grip.

Jonathan wasn’t sure where the dust would settle on this newfound relationship with his mother. His wound was gaping, unhealed, but at that time out there on the sidewalk he wasn’t worrying about it. She was his mother, and even his hardened heart couldn’t fight the preprogrammed nature of that relationship.

“Chris and I were going to go by the venue tonight and drop off some stuff, and if you want to you can come.”

“I’d be honored,” she said. “What’s the venue?”

“The Yellow County Community College Chapel.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

They continued walking down the street in a comfortable quiet.

• • •

The party was winding down. Charlie and Jill were still at their table, chatting. She was so close he could smell her, but she wasn’t wearing perfume. She had a naturally sweet scent with maybe even a little bit of sweat mixed in there. It was as if that smoky, wafty, come-hither hand from the cartoons was grabbing his nostrils and gently tugging him towards her. He was high on her and also a little buzzed from the Miller High Life he had been drinking . . . or was it Miller High Lives? He wasn’t sure.

“. . . and we were all stressed out and rushing around and I looked over and you had spilled one of those big tubs of ranch dressing.”

“I remember that,” Jill laughed.

“And you were like looking back over your shoulder like you were trying to be sexy and you dipped your finger in the ranch and licked it off.”

Jill continued laughing and shook her head. “I know, I know.”

Charlie was laughing too. “But yeah . . .” he breathed, “That summer was great.”

“Sure.” Jill checked her phone. “Oh man, I have to go. I have some Brown State Swim Team official business to attend to.”

“Really? This late?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure what it is. Scott has me drive him around sometimes, you know, he’s got just the one . . .” She pointed to her eye.

Charlie flinched. “Yeah. Yeah. Totally. Go for it. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for the wedding?”

Jill nodded and smiled as she stood. They exited together. Charlie walked Jill to her car, and this time they weren’t playing finger hockey or just holding pinkies or grazing palms, they were assuredly, one hundred percent holding hands. They reached her parking spot. Charlie smiled because she had a “Snart Happens” bumper sticker on the back of her car. Jill walked halfway around to the driver’s side but stopped and came back.

“I know how much we love the ‘you think this is a date?’ joke,” she said, “but tomorrow is definitely a date.”

She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, leaning up to Charlie, and they kissed. It was just for a moment, but it was a good moment, and he closed his eyes with her and nearby a traffic light turned, bathing them in a soft red glow. Their lips parted. Charlie smiled like a goof.

“Definitely,” Charlie said dreamily.

Jill sashayed to her car and got in and left and all Charlie could do was watch. Then he floated away to wherever his car was parked and he didn’t even remember where that was. He eventually remembered that he had Hitched there so he took out his phone and within a few minutes the same driver from before, Armando, picked him up and they were on their way back to Yellow County.

• • •

Roheed walked in the general direction of Charlie’s apartment, away from the Yellow County Community College Campus metro station. Scott rode up the escalator from the station and followed Roheed ominously, not running but moving quickly, like Michael Myers, you know, from Austin Powers. He caught up with Roheed easily.

“Give me your phone,” he said.

Roheed jumped. “What? What’s going on?”

“Give me your phone.”

Roheed looked into the relative darkness. “Aren’t you the eye—I mean guy, from the swim meet?”

Scott just motioned for Roheed to hand over his phone. Roheed obliged, cautiously. Scott immediately threw it as far as he could and it clattered on the sidewalk somewhere and bounced into some reeds.

“That was probably unnecessary,” Roheed said.

“Where is that clown Jonathan’s wedding going to be?” Scott menaced.

Usually Roheed would have folded like an origami crane but he had kind of a nothing-left-to-lose attitude at the moment. “The address was in my phone,” he said. Scott grabbed him by the collar, but he persisted. “I’m not going to tell you.”

“That’s fine,” Scott said casually. He let Roheed go only to pull back his fist and punch Roheed right in the eye, leveling him. Roheed fell to his knees, clutching his face. The sudden jolt of pain woke him up to the reality of the situation.

“Do you wanna tell me now?” Scott sneered. He cocked back his fist for another blow.

Roheed had a brief out-of-body experience. Hmm, this sucks, he thought, as he watched himself be throttled by the big goon who had a firm grasp on his shirt once again. Time slowed and he thought about how to escape the situation. He realized that there was nothing he could really do, so he relented and said, “The chapel.”

Scott smiled. He thought he was going to have to ask Jill for info on the whereabouts of Jonathan’s wedding and risk her blowing his cover. But pummeling this nerd was easier and less dicey. Sure, she would still be his wheelwoman, but she didn’t have to know in-depth what he was up to.

“What are you going to do?” Roheed asked, looking up from his knees. A little bit of blood was making its way into his eyeball, the red tendrils reaching out to touch his deep coffee-colored iris.

“Oh nothin’,” Scott lied. “Probably just a little redecorating. Don’t worry about it, in fact, just worry about staying put and counting to a hundred before you even think about moving.” And with that he took off, laughing.

Roheed looked around in disbelief. He supposed that he had better start counting. “One, two, three, four, five . . .”

• • •

Charlie sat in the Yellow County Community College library with his laptop. The stacks were empty and dark. His screen illuminated his focused face as he clacked away at the keys.

Armando had dropped him off at his apartment. He hadn’t seen Roheed there and he was a little buzzed, but inspired. He grabbed his portable computer and raced to the library. If he had taken a slightly different route through campus he would have stumbled upon Roheed counting—“sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three . . .” Happenstantially, Charlie had decided to go by the Gladys Noon Spellman Fountain in the middle of the quad because it was pretty at night.

He was writing like a madman, fully engrossed in putting words on the page, something he hadn’t done in a long time.

• • •

Chris took Suitland Parkway to get back to Yellow County from Ben’s. Jonathan rode shotgun while Tammy sat in the backseat. She was leaning forward and talking excitedly to Chris about the wedding. Jonathan was halfway between annoyed and tickled pink, so somewhat of an itchy orange.

“What are your wedding colors?” Tammy asked.

“Blue and white,” Chris replied. “Just like the umbrellas at the pool.”

Tammy closed her eyes for a moment to remember the vista of the YCCSRC, umbrellas and all. “That sounds simply wonderful.”

“I wanted to have chocolate ice cream tacos instead of a cake,” Jonathan added, “but Chris vetoed that idea.”

“You can have chocolate ice cream tacos every other day of your life, if you want,” Chris said.

Jonathan, feeling just the slightest bit playful, winked to Tammy, for the first time in his life, and said, “And I do.”

They shared a smile.

• • •

Jill pulled up outside of the Yellow County Community College Chapel. Scott had texted her to meet him there. She was confused; where was he? But there were lights on and movement inside the chapel. She’d wait.

Roheed was still standing in the middle of campus, counting out loud, “Ninety-eight, ninety-nine. . .” He took a deep breath. “One hundred.” Then he took off running.

Charlie continued to work, words appearing on the page faster than they ever had before. He had the In Sheep’s Clothing Final Draft document up (still .FDR, he hadn’t upgraded yet) on the right side of his screen and Word open on the left. He was converting the screenplay-formatted text on the right into a competent, if not a little verbose and with a run-on sentence here and there, prose as he novelized his own movie script.

• • •

Chris’s car drove onto the Yellow County Community College Campus. Chris, Jonathan, and Tammy were content and chatting easily inside the vehicle. They had no idea how the next hour was going to impact their lives forever.