“And that sucks Ewok balls,” Uncle Don says. “But that doesn’t make their love any less real.”
“Do Ewoks even have balls?” I ask, eyebrows raised.
“It’s not explicitly discussed, but I assume. All I’m saying is . . . just because your mom’s love story ended doesn’t mean it wasn’t real or that it didn’t mean something. It meant everything to her.”
“But then she died heartbroken,” I say. “And almost ruined another woman’s life.”
“She died with one heartbreak, sure,” Don says. “And you know what? All of us are gonna deal with a bunch of heartbreaks throughout our life. But she also died knowing that she was truly in love once, and not everyone can say that.”
“Geez,” I say. “What happened to you? You meet a woman and all of a sudden you turn into a relationship expert?”
Uncle Don smiles, not meeting my eyes.
“Speaking of which,” I say, way too eager to change the subject away from me, “you never told me Tyler was a woman.”
Uncle Don shrugs. “You never asked, and I didn’t think it was important. She’s an important person in my life regardless of her gender.”
“But is she . . . you know?” I wiggle my eyebrows. “An important part of your life?”
“I like her quite a bit,” Uncle Don says, which for him is basically an admission of love. “We like the same things, and she’s a kindhearted person.”
“Well, good,” I say, although I’m preemptively worried about what will happen on the eventual day that Uncle Don’s heart gets broken.
As if he can tell what I’m thinking, he says, “I know you’re worried about me, because I have . . . limited dating experience.”
“Try no dating experience,” I say. “Sorry for the burn.”
“I don’t think it’s a burn if it’s the truth,” Don says. “And I know there are risks to falling in love. But a lot of the time in D&D, you know a situation is dangerous and you walk right into it anyway. Because who knows? Something pretty great could happen, too.”
I nod slowly.
“Or you could get eaten by dire wolves,” Uncle Don says. “Either way, you can’t stay in a tavern talking to people all the time, or the game would be pretty boring. Sometimes you have to get out there and take a chance.”
I bite my lip. Maybe Uncle Don’s weird D&D metaphor is hitting a little closer to home than I would like. And then I remember the conversation that Tommy and I had at the wrap party, about how Don doesn’t want me to spend my whole life waiting for an opportunity to fall in my lap.
“Do you . . . want me to leave?” I ask quietly.
Don tilts his head. “Do I want you to leave? Of course not!”
I look down at my feet. “Tommy was talking to me about taking risks and chances or whatever and he said I really need to move away from here if I’m ever going to get anywhere in film, and . . . well, he’s probably right.”
I look up and see that Don’s nodding.
“But I don’t want to leave you here,” I whisper, once again to my shoes.
“Annie,” Don says, crossing the room to stand by me. “I love living here with you. You’re the best roommate a guy could have. You eat everything I make, and you never complain about Dungeon Master Rick coming over on a weekly basis, which would likely annoy most people.”
“He’s an acquired taste,” I admit.
“So no, I’m not exactly looking forward to the day you leave. But I know—and I think you do, too—that you can’t stay here forever. And I don’t want you to be worried about me, because I’m not alone. I have my job; I have the guys.”
I nod toward the living room. “And Tyler.”
He smiles, and it hits me how little credit I gave him. I always thought Uncle Don needed me, like he would fall apart from loneliness if I wasn’t around, but he has his own life, full of friends and work and Wookiee costumes and a girlfriend. It turns out he never really needed me so much as he just liked hanging out with me.
“So where’s Drew, anyway?” Don asks, not even bothering to segue into the question.
“We, um . . . we had a fight.” I cross my arms.
“Did he do something wrong?” Don asks.
I shake my head, unable to meet his eyes. I’m not up for explaining how gossip sites work to Uncle Don, so I go for