Page 51 of The Happy Month
“Actually, they worked out just fine. We had six wonderful years, followed by two bad ones. I stopped wanting to know what came next, so I divorced him.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m really glad I married him. I’m also really glad I divorced him. What can be better than that?”
“Tell us about Ronnie,” Brian said.
“I’m monopolizing the conversation, aren’t I?” Sugar said.
“Just a tad.”
“Sweetheart, just slap me.”
“Ronnie and I have been together about four years. He’s a real estate agent. We own three properties together.”
“And he calls you Dom,” Brian said.
“He doesn’t know anything about Nick Nowak,” I said.
“Darling, that’s terrible,” Sugar said. “We love Nick. He would too.”
This time I changed the subject. “How is Terry?”
“Still wild. I still have my condo in Chicago. We’re up there for weekends twice a month. Terry lives in the condo for me. Takes care of the place.”
And Brian takes care of him, which was a relief.
Sugar put her hand on mine, “You should tell your partner who you are.” She didn’t want to let that go.
Part of me thought, why not let them back into my life? Why not invite them to the house so they could meet Ronnie. But then I knew what a bad idea that was. I knew that Brian wouldn’t mention watching his stepfather drown in Lake Michigan or the time I killed a man on a construction site. I knew that Sugar wouldn’t make jokes about myconnections to The Outfit. But they would slip and call me Nick. They’d talk about Chicago and not Detroit.
In no time, he'd be able to put things together. He’d seen my real birth certificate, my real ID. He thought it was my fake ID. He hadn’t realized it was the other way around. But if he met Brian and Sugar, he would.
“He knows who I am. He doesn’t need to know who I was,” I said with as much finality as I could. “Why are you going to Mexico in the middle of summer?”
“You can’t have forgotten,” Sugar said. “Chicago in the heat is a nightmare, but Mexico in the heat is a delight.”
“Hot is hot wherever you are.”
“Yes, but one has a pool and handsome boys bringing you margaritas and the other smells bad.”
I turned to Brian and asked, “Franklin didn’t want to come with you?”
“He’s upstairs. He’s not feeling well.”
“You mean he didn’t think this was a good idea. It’s not, you know.”
“I couldn’t be in the same city and not see you.”
“We can’t make a habit of this.”
“I know,” Brian said.
Sugar pursed her lips, clearly wanting to object but thinking better of it. After that, conversation became a little more challenging. I decided not to tell them about The Freedom Agenda. They already knew too much about me. Our cases were occasionally mentioned in other states. I wouldn’t want them bragging about knowing me. Well, Sugar might. I didn’t think Brian would.
At one point Sugar mentioned they go to the same therapist. “She’s wonderful, except sometimes she complains that it’s unethical to see us both since we’re good friends. But I never complain to her about Brian, and I know henever complains about me—wink, wink.” He probably didn’t complain about her though. He had bigger things to talk about.
When we finished the bottle Sugar tried to buy another, but I put my foot down. “I’m sorry, I can’t stay. You guys feel free though.”
