The One Night(13)

“You’re truly a pioneer.”

She chuckles and presses her hand to my back, shuffling to the front of the bar, where a group of four men are laughing over a pitcher of what I’m assuming is a generic beer. When we step up, their eyes immediately shoot past me and straight to Nora. I glance back at her, hoping she takes the lead, and that’s when I notice the skintight jeans she’s wearing, showing the length of toned legs, and the red long-sleeve crop top that reveals a few good inches of her midriff.

I was so caught up in her eyes that I failed to realize she was showing so much skin.

“Hey, boys,” she says casually. “We have a question to ask. You see, my friend and I are taking a poll and want to gauge your reaction to a certain situation. Are you up for it?”

“What’s the situation?” one of the men says, getting right to the point.

“Are any of you single?” They all raise their hands. “Perfect. Okay, so what if your parents decided to come out with you tonight, and their main goal was to act as your wingmen—would you be humiliated or grateful?”

The men all look at each other with confusion.

“You mean, try to find me someone to hook up with?” the guy asks.

“Not just hook up with, but, you know, be a life partner.”

His nose scrunches. “No way in hell would I let that happen.”

Satisfaction fills my chest.

“Although,” another guy says, “it would be easier if someone else did the work for me.” No, man, not the answer I’m looking for. But he finishes with a shake of his head. “I can’t imagine a moment where a girl wouldn’t think I was a loser if my parents stepped in.”

Validated.

Did you see that? Validation in that very sentence.

The other two men agree with them, and after polling a few more tables, we find only one person in the entire bar who says they would love their parents to find them a match, and it’s because they’re a nurse and don’t have time for any dating bullshit.

Satisfied, I move back to our spot at the bar, pick up a new glass of whiskey that Earl delivers to me, and bring it up to my smiling lips.

“Your grin is obnoxious,” Nora says.

“Are you . . . no, it can’t be . . . are you irritated that I was right?”

“No, I’m totally content with our research findings.”

“Uh-huh, but the stiff set of your shoulders and the agitated tone of your voice tells me differently.”

“I’m not agitated about the findings—I’m mourning the loss of seeing you flush your head in a toilet. The thought of it positively excited me.”

I roll my eyes as she chuckles and pushes at my leg. “I’m afraid to say, even if you were right, I’m not sure I’d have been able to go through with flushing myself.”

“Don’t worry, I’d have helped you.”

“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” I tilt my head at her, curiosity filling me as I wonder where this night will lead us. “So now what? Aren’t you supposed to take charge now?”

“As if I haven’t been taking charge this entire time.” She lets out a deep breath. “First things first. I need some food. Are you interested in ditching the Dirty Beaver and going to another establishment where the nachos aren’t made from a can of cheese from twenty years ago?”

“That would be preferred,” I answer before I can even think about it.

“Great. Earl,” she calls over my shoulder, “we’re heading out. Can we settle up?”

“Each of you leave a twenty, and you’re good to go.”

“A twenty?” I ask. I drank more than twenty dollars.

Nora smiles. “It’s why the toilets are never clean. Be glad the patrons of this bar saved you tonight.” From the wallet thing around her wrist, she pulls out two twenties and sets them on the bar top. When I go to protest, she says, “You got dinner.”

She hops off her stool and takes me by the arm, guiding me toward the door. When we step outside into the cold winter air, she clings to me tightly. I can’t remember the last time Dealia clung to me like this. Toward the end of our marriage, she didn’t even hold my hand, so having another human’s touch, even if it’s just for warmth, feels nice. Comforting.

With us close to the water, the wind whips off the bay, adding a certain chill to the Seattle air that only enhances the holiday ambiance as we head down the lit-up sidewalk. Besides the black hole that is the Dirty Beaver, the shops lining the streets are illuminated with twinkling lights in a neutral white color. Green garland lines the window displays, and large wreaths with red bows decorate the streetlamps, making the large industrial city feel like a quaint small town.

“I always forget a jacket.” Nora shivers. “I hope you can walk fast.”

I stuff my hands in my pockets. “You’d better keep up. Where are we going?”

“Three blocks up and to the right. There’s a bar that has the best nachos I’ve ever had.”

We take off in that direction. “Why didn’t you go there instead?” I ask, hoping for a distraction from the cold.

“I went to the Dirty Beaver to not be bothered. I had no idea Peggy and Martin Chance were going to show up and try to set me up with their son.”