Page 6 of Take Two

“Mama would never do that. The only reason I’m not dead or homeless today is because she never gave up on me,” he says. “She’s the best mom, and I can never break her heart again by drinkin’.” I’ve met his mother before. She’s a sweet woman who dotes on her grandsons. She works out with me and Vickie sometimes.

“Well, my mama and me?” I say. I put my drink down and bump my knuckles against each other. “We’re okay now, but from the time she and my dad split up, I made her life hell.”

“Did you climb a tree when you were eighteen, fall, break your femur, and get your basketball scholarship taken away?” he asks.

“No, but I dropped out of Cornell in my junior year.” I put both hands to my cheeks. “Who drops out of the Ivy League?”

“Zuckerberg. Gates.”

“I made the same point, but my mother wasn’t having it. She said until I turned into a white man, I could miss her with my bullshit because she doesn’t want to hear it. Those were her actual words. Even though our relationship is good now, that’s the one thing I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me for. But you know what? I don’t regret it. I didn’t belong there, and I was happy to leave.”

“At least you got into an Ivy League. I’ve taken a few business classes at the local community college,” he says. “I own a restaurant back home but only because my brother gave me the money to start the business.”

That’s another thing I’ve sensed about him. Another thing we share. We’re both underdogs when it comes to our overachieving siblings.

“Did hegiveit to you, or did he make an investment? Two different things, Charlie,” I say. “An investment is not a gift, andthere’s nothing wrong with it. My dad invested in my gym. He was my capital, otherwise there would be no gym.”

“It was supposed to be a loan, but he says he doesn’t want anything back. He said to take it as a gift,” he says. “I’ve tried to pay him back. I came up with a payment plan, but he said he didn’t want it and would not accept it.”

“Well, you can do one of two things,” I say. “You can accept it in the spirit it was given and move on, or you can put it away for the boys,” I say. “I only live and have my gym here because my dad’s business partner owns this building. The rent is a steal. I’m talking a steal by any standards, not just Manhattan. Meanwhile, my sister owns a huge house in New Jersey with her investment banker husband living the good life.”

“My brother has the family and life I’ve always wanted for myself,” he says. So, he wants a family. I inch closer and wait to hear more. “That sounds awful, doesn’t it? You must think I’m some kind of jerk.”

“No. You said you wantafamily. So what? You didn’t say you wantedhisfamily.” I shrug. “It’s human nature to want that.”

“Well, you know what I got? None of that. I’m the weird freakin' uncle. I’m Uncle Fester in my family. That weird one who never visits with a lady friend and is destined to die alone. I’m the one who gets to babysit while my brother goes out with his wife. Not that I mind. I love my nephews, but it would be nice if I had someone too.”

“Oh, Lord. What the hell does that make me? At least you’re an uncle. I can’t even be Aunt Festerine. Oh, and at least you like Vickie. My brother-in-law is an ass, and I can’t stand to be around him longer than five minutes.”

“You’re far too pretty and young to be Aunt Festerine.”

I feel myself blush at the compliment. I don’t remember the last time someone other than my parents called me pretty.

“And you’re no Uncle Fester. Trust me on that.” Now it’s his turn to blush. “Thirty is not that young, especially when you’re a woman,” I tell him. “My grandma told me that all my good childbearing years are behind me, and all that working out I’m doing will mess up my insides. She said my uterus will fall out of me while doing a squat.”

He laughs and coughs at the same time, and I want to pat myself on the back for getting a laugh out of him. I rub between his shoulder blades, and I was right. It’s hard and taut just as I imagined. He lets out a contented sigh.

“Don’t get me started on crazy thangs grandparents say. My grandma used to say that no one was allergic to peanuts in her day and that it’s something the government made up. God rest her soul,” he says while he shakes his head sadly.

“Oh, boy,” I say. “And what did you think of that?” I ask.

“About Grandma Chastain’s nonsense?” I nod. “She’s the only person on earth who never said a single thang that I agree with. Mama couldn’t stand her. Mama would say that someone who’s never left her zip code has no business giving her opinion on a thang. Of course, she’d only say that when Daddy wasn’t around.”

“Your mom has a point,” I add, relieved at his answer.

Just as he opens his mouth to say more, there’s a knock on the door. I open it to the pizza deliveryman. Charlie comes up behind me and pulls out his wallet to pay.

“I’ve already paid online,” I tell him. “You’re my guest.” He still gives the man some cash and takes the pizza from me. By the time I return to the kitchen, he’s looking in my cabinets and pulling out two plates. He puts a slice on each and refills our glasses.

“Are you sure I’m not imposin’ on your night?” he asks.

“The only thing you’re keeping me from is crippling loneliness,” I joke.

“How can a girl as pretty and as sweet as you be lonely? If that’s the case, I’m doomed.”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately, Charlie?” I ask him.

“What do you mean?” he asks, looking me in the eye.