Chapter 19

"Is there a law against throwing up in the street?" Dan asked me on a mid-November Saturday. Dan had arrived in New York on Wednesday and we had been going out on the town the previous three nights. Friday night was an especially severe binge and I would have preferred death to waking up feeling the way I did.

"I’m not sure," I mumbled back. "Don’t do it on a car and maybe nobody will notice." The cold air blowing by was helping me to feel a little better, but I was still feeling nowhere near ‘good’. Both our faces were a very healthy color for, say, frogs, and it was quickly agreed that we had better go outside to get some fresh air and Pepto-Bismol.

"Okay, good," he told me immediately before sticking his face into a garbage can in order to throw out last night’s dinner. It was quite a vomit, I was surprised at how much had remained in his stomach. After Dan finished his business, he joined me for a further walk down the sidewalk. Not but ten paces later he announced, quite happily, "I’m ready for breakfast."

"Get your own damn food. I don’t even want to think the stuff right now." The only thing I wanted was water, though I was sure even that would have some arguments with being inside my body.

"Okay, I’ll get a nice big breakfast with an omelet that drips cheese, a couple sausage links and some nice, greasy, undercooked bacon."

I reflected upon this concept with, "Bastard. HPUUUHHAAKKKHHH," into a garbage can. I further added, "HUUUNNGGGGHHH, BUH, BUUHAAAHHH," to my train of thought before punctuating my thesis with a dry heave and a great deal of spitting.

#

"Thanks for the bacon idea," I told him as we both sat down hungrily.

"The vomit really cleared things out, didn’t it?" Dan asked rhetorically.

"I’m on top of the world." Our respective purges had reset our course from the pharmacy to Jack’s. I had spent enough time there that the waitress was starting to give me slightly less disinterested service. She had even provided an almost welcoming "’Morning" before waiting for our orders in her usual, utterly annoyed manner.

Our food summarily delivered, we set to feeding.

"God, this breakfast is pretty damn good," Dan between his first couple shovels.

"Mmm," I agreed between loads of my own. It was not until we had both finished half our plates that conversation restarted.

"So has Lori set a date for her wedding yet?" Dan asked me through a mouthful of food.

"No, not yet," I told him. "Ray seems to be in no hurry to provide any sort of time frame."

"Are you invited?"

"Lori told me she wants me to be there, so I would think so."

"Are you going to go?"

"I don’t know," I answered, "I guess so. Just to sort of say goodbye."

"You make it sound like a funeral."

"In some manner of speaking, I guess it would be."

"The death of the hope for a woman’s affections?"

"Something like that."

"What makes you think she would be interested in you?"

"Not a damn thing." I knew that fact as well as anybody.

"But you can’t give up hoping can you?"

"Not a chance."

"That’s my boy, Tom."

#

After leaving Jack’s, we headed to the Whitney Museum of American Art. Dan had evinced an interest in the place, so I figured that would be a good way to spend a day and a good way to make sure I actually saw a museum, for once. Dan loved it, but I was quite out of my element visiting the art world. When I became very pleased with myself when I figured out that many of the paintings were in the same style, I pointed out this knowledge to Dan. Dan promptly agreed as he informed me those paintings were, in fact, by the same artist, thus I proved myself neither knowledgeable nor a person who really pays attention to the little plaques next to the canvases.

After spending much of our day wandering the museum, we stopped at my apartment to stretch our legs in front of the last ten minutes of a Rangers-Flyers game. With that concluded, we went upstairs to greet Lori for our evening’s entertainment.

Lori answered the door with a usual, chipper, "Hello boys!" and invited us in.

"Shall I grab the usual for you gentlemen?" she asked us as she walked into the kitchen.

"Sure," Dan answered, "just so long as I have some idea of what the usual is."

"Bass. That’s what you had the last time you were here, wasn’t it?"

"After a mere five months, I’ve already forgotten. But that sounds good, yes."

Lori pulled two bottles out of the refrigerator, opened them and handed them to us with a "Come in and have a seat," which we summarily did.

"So, what’s this news I hear about you getting married?" Dan asked suddenly.

"I believe the story you’re asking about is that Ray and I are getting married," Lori answered with an amused little smirk, "Unless, of course, I’m engaged to someone else I’m not aware of."

"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order, so, Congratulations!"

"Thanks," she replied warmly.

"I’m sorry to be nosy," Dan offered, "but may I ask why you’re not wearing your engagement ring?"

She looked down at her hand, "Oh, I usually don’t wear it out during the day; no sense in risking it being stolen."

"I presume you’re going to wear it this evening, what with seeing Ray."

"Oh yes, I can’t very well go see my fiancé without it."

"Well, I look forward to its Dan debut," he told her.

"Would you like to see it?" Lori asked him as she stood up.

"Sure," he told her, sounding intrigued.

"Great," she told us as she bounced over to the bedroom. We watched her go through the door as we followed her to the bedroom doorway.

Lori was in front of the undulating face of a dresser. She rooted through one of the drawers for a bit before pulling out a small jewelry box. She walked over to us, keeping the box closed. Upon arriving right in front of us, she opened it.

"Very nice," he commented. "I’m impressed," he told her in a voice that clearly wasn’t.

"You don’t sound very convinced," Lori told him with a mock hurt in her voice that may or may not have been there to cover actual hurt.

Dan smiled a guilty smile. "I’m sorry, don’t get me wrong, that is one hell of a stone, there’s no doubt about that. And I can’t argue with the setting, it’s very nice. But the cut really doesn’t fire me up. I guess I expected more facets than the few large ones found there. Do I wish I could have afforded something like that? Oh yes. Is it what I would have shopped for, no probably not."

Lori looked at him with a funny look, "You’ve been ring shopping?"

"Yes, but it was quite a while ago."

"I didn’t know you were married," Lori told him, sounding quite surprised.

"I’m not."

"You’re still engaged?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Oh, I’m sorry," she offered, realizing she might be treading on sore toes.

"Please, don’t be. It was years ago."

"What was her name?"

"Gina."

Lori looked at me, "Why didn’t you tell me about this?"

"I didn’t figure it would be important," was my honest response. Sometimes I forgot that episode had ever occurred.

She looked back to Dan as she asked, "So what happened?"

"Oh, I was dating a girl who liked surprises. I asked her to marry me a few days after we graduated from college and, Surprise! she dumped me."

"That’s a shame."

"Oh, not really. I was fresh out of school and I changed a lot after graduation. I have to imagine she did too."

"You don’t talk to her?"

"No, we fell out of contact. I had no real desire to see her after we broke up."

"That’s too bad."

"Once again, not really. I’ve found that old memories fade easier when they don’t meet you for dinner and tell you about the great new guy they met."

Lori seemed to run that around her head as she responded, "Yes, I suppose there is some truth to that."

"Anyway," Dan continued, "I apologize for not sounding duly impressed with the ring, I just wish the guy who cut it would have done more. Besides, the only opinion that matters is yours. As long as you appreciate it, that ring is everything it needs to be."

"Good point," she told us as she looked down at the ring. After a quiet second she pulled it out of the box and placed it on her finger. "Well gentlemen," she told us as she put the box back on her dresser, "Let me know when you’re done with your drinks and we can hit the road."

#

Dan and I both took it easy that evening, considering the way we had greeted the outdoors earlier in the day. However, we both had a pleasant evening in Lori’s company and, once again, the pleasure of her company was enough to offset the more disagreeable company of Ray.

"So, Tom," Lori asked me after the show had ended, "have you laid plans for when you leave New York?"

"Who says I’m leaving?" I responded.

"Well, your contract is going to end eventually."

"I’m still trying to figure out where I’ll land next. But, like I said, I’d love to stay in New York."

"I’d like it if you did, too."

"But, there’s talk of sending me out to San Diego after my contract ends, so we’ll see what happens."

Ray, surprisingly, piped in at this point. "Why would you want to go to San Diego?"

Lori informed us, "Excuse me for a second gentlemen, I’m going to go say ‘Hi’ to Porter," and she departed our company.

Ray continued, "I mean really, what the fuck is in San Diego?"

"Aside from the sun, sand and surf?"

"Big fucking deal. It ain’t got New York winters."

"Yes, that’s kind of the idea. That’s also why it would be nice to live there."

"No it wouldn’t," he told me angrily.

I was thoroughly taken aback by Ray’s reply. I had no idea why he would be angry at the thought of me moving to San Diego.

"Why the fuck anybody would want to move to a shitty little town like that," Ray continued, "Fuck San Diego. They got nothin’."

Too surprised to even defend myself, I asked, "Like what don’t they have?"

"No Queens, no Bronx, no Broadway, no nothin’. It’s in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere."

"It’s in Southern California," I offered.

"Yeah, and do they have Brooklyn or Manhattan? No they don’t. It’s fuckin’ nowhere."

"If they had Brooklyn and Manhattan, it would be New York City."

"Exactly, New York is here. They got no boroughs, no skyline and no Knicks in Southern California. What do they have out there?"

Dan, who had been sitting there, quietly sipping his beer, threw in, "The Lakers are in Southern California and how many NBA championships do they have? And the Knicks have, if memory serves, two. I think its pretty clear where to go for good basketball."

Ray angrily looked over at Dan.

"I mean really, I don’t think you know the first thing about San Diego. Have you ever been to San Diego?"

"What the fuck would I want to go there for?"

"And have you ever even been to California?"

"What the hell for?"

"I’m pretty sure you’ve never been outside the Tri-State region."

"Yeah, so?"

"As a matter of fact," Dan continued accusatorily, "I would be willing to bet, in your entire life, you have never even bothered to leave the city limits of New York."

Ray glared at Dan for this assessment, which Ray was in no hurry to deny.

"I’m sure that San Diego doesn’t have the stage that New York has."

"Exactly," Ray agreed.

"And I’m sure it doesn’t have the orchestras or the opera."

"That’s exactly what I’m talking about," Ray acknowledged vehemently, "San Diego’s got nothin’"

"And I’m sure you’ve never seen either a play or the orchestra or the opera in the entire time you’ve spent in this city. Despite the pride you take in it."

Dan returned to his drink as Ray glared at him. Eventually, he stomped off to find Lori.

"Dumbass," Dan quietly added.