“W
hycouldn’t we go somewhere that isn’t decorated with hearts and flowers?”IaskMax,Connor,Elliot, andOwen, who’re sitting around the table with me at ourLowerEastSidepub. “Andsomewhere with aMichaelBubléembargo.”Iroll my eyes at the speaker above our heads.
Idragged this table into the farthest, darkest corner, away from all theValentine’scelebrations, butLeon’soutdone himself, and they’re impossible to escape.It’slikeNewYear’sEveall over again.Butpinker.EvenKaraokeKorneris back.
“Ican’t believeEmilylet him do all this.We’resupposed to be a classy, hipstery, craft beer gastropub.”
“Maybeyou shouldn’t have gone out of town for so long and left her to it,”Owensays.
He’sover fromSanFranciscoto work on wedding plans—he andSummerare getting married atMaggieandJim’shouse later this year.Andtoday he’s been in the city for meetings about his andElliot’snonprofit, which will create tech centers for kids in economically depressed areas.
“Yeah,”Connorsays. “Aweek up inBathgatewas a long time.”
Iwas supposed to come back for a meeting withEmilyandChaselast week, but the thought of watching them flirt with each other was too much, soImade up another brewing emergency.
“MiguelandImade good progress on the new special editionHornbyIslandAle, though,”Itell them. “Soat least some good came from it.”
Everyone’snow fully up to speed on the wholeEmilysituation.That’swhy they’re here tonight.It’sa full family effort to pull me out of my funk.EvenTomcalled numerous times whileIwas up at the brewery.Andit was good of him to make the time.Igot the feeling things aren’t exactly great between him and his wife.ButLouisa’salways been a selfish nightmare.
“WasEmilythere when you got home?”Elliotasks.
Icame back fromBathgatethis afternoon. “Nope.AndI’veonly seen her from across the room sinceIgot here.”Itake a glug of beer. “Shewaved at me.”
“Shelooks amazing,”Maxsays.
“Yeah, thanks.That’sreally helpful.”
“Well, there’s no other bar in the city we could have gone to that wouldn’t be festooned inValentine’sstuff onFebruaryfourteenth,”Owensays.
“Yes, there is.Theone in my kitchen.That’sdefinitely not covered in pink hearts,”Itell him. “Andnever will be.”Islump lower over my beer. “Whycouldn’t you all have just come over there?”
“Becauseyou, my friend, need to get out.”Maxslides off his stool, stretches to his full height, and slaps me on the back. “Timefor me to go.”Hechecks his phone. “Pollybanished me from the apartment till eight o’clock while she sets up something.”
By“apartment,” he means “penthouse” that could accommodate two football teams and still feel roomy.
“Soundslike you’re in for a good night,”Connorsays, raising his glass.
“I’mpretty sure candles and strawberries are involved,”Maxsays. “Ihappened to accidentally see into the top of a bag she was packing to bring down here fromWarmSpringsyesterday.”
MaxandPollyspend half their time in the small upstateNewYorktown wherePollyowns an organic produce store.They’rebuilding a house up there, with a cottage for her mom.
“Goodluck with cheering this one up,”Maxtells the guys as he points at me and heads for the door.
“GoodGod,”Owensays, screwing up his face and putting his hands over his ears. “Cansomeone make that stop?”Hejerks his head towardKaraokeKornerwhere a man’s serenading someone withFrankSinatra’sIGotYouUnderMySkin. “Themicrophone must be trying to crawl out of his hand to get away from that horrific noise.”
“Whatabout you,Con?”ElliotasksConnor. “Don’tyou have to get home toRose?”
“Nope.She’sworking on a big project for school.”Roseis getting a master’s in special education and wants to get into aPhDprogram to become a professor. “ButIlike to think every day isValentine’sDayin our house.”
Owen,Elliot, andImake simultaneous barfing sounds.
“Youcan talk,”Elliotsays toOwen. “Thistime last year you were busy inMom’skitchen makingSummeraValentine’sgift.”
“Yeah,Iguess she did kinda change my mind aboutValentine’s.”Heshrugs with a smile. “That’swhat happens when you meet the right person.Theychange everything.”
“Yes,Iknow,”Imumble into my beer. “Thanksagain.”
“Hereyou go, guys.”Leonappears with a tray loaded with food. “Courtesyof the owners.”