Page 42 of The Leaves In Autumn
“You okay?”
“Yes. How about you?”
He stretches his long legs and sighs.
“I will be. I want to apologize again for what happened.”
“No need.”
“Yes. There is.”
There’s a moment when I am unsure if he’ll continue. Whatever he wants to say, is being weighed. Pins crash to the wooden floor, and a woman’s excited scream pierces the room. Nothing distracts me from his eyes.
“Barbra, what happened had nothing to do with you or with the time we spent together that night. Do you believe me?”
Didn’t expect the question, and he won’t expect my answer.
“Yes.”
It surprises. There’s a grin of respect, or something close.
“Good. It’s true.”
Van’s voice calls above the room’s conversations. “What was that?!!”
When I look, he’s shaking his head at a gutter ball. Aargon chuckles, then returns to me.
“So, I need to work on myself a little. I don’t want to be that angry, moody guy.”
I nod an agreement.
“That’s good. It’s insightful. If it requires alone time, I’ll understand if we see each other less.”
“Well, let’s not go overboard Debby Downer. I’ll see you on the fourth. We have to uphold our winning record at the water-pistol war.”
I hear the old Aargon, trying to resurface, but with a hint of nostalgia in the voice. Like he values our friendship so much, he is willing, for a moment, to pretend nothing ever happened.
“Of course I’m coming to the July Fourth Lyon parade and picnic. In fact, I was thinking of this yesterday. There are no rules about what sort of water pistol we can use, right?”
“No. They have that assortment and we just pick one.”
“What about the Super Soakers I bought for your…I mean Channing’s party?”
He laughs an evil sort of response.
“Oh yeah! Good thinking. But let’s leave them in your car till we’re going to use them. Why give anyone a heads up?”
“Great. Speaking of cars, would you pick me up? Mine is going to be in the shop. Besides, I don’t want to drink and drive.”
“Sure. But don’t be getting ripped before we go for the gold. And you better start building your stamina now.”
“That’s what she said.”
Something clicks in place. The tightness relaxes. We are back, not exactly in the same place, but somewhere we both know is right.
CHAPTER 15
Aargon
