permission to fly their freak flags a little higher than usual,” Xander agreed.
“So, is your fetish the mermaid thing?” I asked Courteney. “Or the Mexican wrestler?” I waggled my eyebrows at her, but then realized she probably couldn’t tell because of my mask.
“Well, mermaids are beautiful and magical,” she mused. “But I am hoping he tries out some of his wrestling moves on me later.”
“I’ve got this body slam I’ve been working on,” he told her. Then he took a swig of his beer through his mouth hole.
“I guess the question is,” I said to Courteney, “do you get him to leave the mask on…?”
“Hmm…” She considered. “I guess we’ll see.”
“I say leave it on,” Merritt said beside me. “Let that freak flag fly.”
“I think we should all leave our masks on and just live like this all the time,” Courteney said.
“Hear, hear,” I said, and realized I should really get myself a drink, so I had something to toast people with when they made fabulous suggestions like that.
Courteney smiled at me. “So… do you know if Cary’s coming?”
“I don’t know. I wish I did.”
“Maybe the masks will help?”
“Maybe.”
“Is that why you suggested the idea to Summer? Because you thought it might make it easier for him?”
“This was all your idea?” Xander cut in.
“I don’t know. It was the wine,” I admitted. “It just sort of fell out of my mouth. And yeah, I was hoping maybe it would help Cary walk in the door. But I guess we’ll see, right?”
I was pretty sure I could see the emotion in Xander’s eyes and in Courteney’s, even through their masks. “You’re so good for him,” she gushed, and she gave me a big, squishy hug.
“Thank you. Uh, apparently, there are some bottles of bubbly with our names on them over at the bar. We should maybe go get started on getting loaded.”
“Okay. We’ll catch you later,” Courteney said, and I headed off with Merritt before things got too emotional.
I really wished I had better answers for them. Yes, Cary’s coming. He’ll be right along. Or better yet, He’s right over there, didn’t you know?
But I really didn’t know if he was coming.
After our argument about it last weekend, we’d reached a gentle stalemate. I didn’t go home like he asked me to. He’d changed his mind about wanting me to leave, and good thing, because I didn’t want to leave. I spent the rest of my birthday with him, at his place, and then that night I went out to celebrate with my friends while he stayed home.
The rest of the week pretty much rolled out the same way. He’d gone on with his life, inside his home, and I’d gone on with mine, both inside and out of his home. I’d stayed there each night. But now that the Players’ album was done, he wasn’t even going down to Little Black Hole. He was working in his home studio again, talking to Brick House and his lawyer and listening to music, considering offers from various bands who wanted to work with him.
I didn’t press him about it. Whatever he wanted to do next with his career was up to him. I’d already asked him enough, and clearly the answer was no. No, he was not joining the Players and going on tour.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever agree that that wasn’t a total mistake, but it wasn’t my decision.
It was Cary’s life. And if he wasn’t ready to move on with it… there was only so much I could do.
I was trying to be supportive, and as it turned out that was way fucking harder than I thought it would be. At least, to try to get it right. To balance his needs with my own, and do what I believed was best for him. Best for us. And best for me.
When we walked up to the bar, Merritt gave one of the bartenders our names, and he popped open our bubbly. Seconds later, we each had a sparkling glass of Bottega Rose Gold and Merritt proposed a toast. “To the hottest date I’ve had in a while,” she quipped as we tapped our glasses together.
“I’m honored. Thanks for inviting me to come with you. Can I say I’m glad you didn’t have a date?”
“Honestly, I probably could’ve scared one up. But… I was thinking about you. I wondered what would happen if Cary wasn’t coming to the party. I know you’ve got Danica and about a million friends in this