The Storm King(11)

“Works for me.”

“And absent ones,” Nate added.

The three of them clinked glasses.

A chime just like this had sounded innumerable times in myriad places through uncounted centuries. These drinks that friends share. Their toast done, Nate should have sensed the beginning of a companionable evening. Instead, he felt most keenly the things that separated them.

A thousand pieces of himself had been constructed around the scaffolding of this pair, but how well had these connections weathered the years? Perhaps not as well as Nate hoped. He tried to remember the last time they were all together, and if he’d marked it as a moment that mattered.

“How long are you in town?” Johnny asked.

“Sunday, unless Medea has other plans.”

“Short visit, but you must be a busy guy.”



“Aren’t we all?”

“Yeah, Tom rescuing cats in trees. On a good day, I’m a glorified wedding planner.”

“Cats are more the fire department’s wheelhouse, actually,” Tom said. He turned to Nate. “I didn’t ask about your job before. You’re still in your fellowship, right?”

“Yeah, couple years to go. It’s a long slog.” He hadn’t yet taken more than a sip of his drink, but Nate beamed at the waiter as he arrived with a new round.

“Not just a doctor, but a surgeon. Not just a surgeon but a pediatric surgeon. Not just a pediatric surgeon, but a pediatric oncologic surgeon.” Johnny shook his head and took a gulp from his tumbler. “Way to make the rest of us look like bums, man. Let me guess, you also operate exclusively on orphans and refugees.”

“Nah, got to save some of the really selfless stuff for my retirement.” Nate held up his cocktail. “This is delicious. And seriously, look at this place. This town. You guys.” He widened his smile until it embraced all of them. “We’ve done okay, haven’t we? It’s so good to be here with you both.”

“Wow,” Johnny said. “So did the total cornball slushiness start when you became a dad, or is it just a side effect of the sleep deprivation?”

Nate’s grin remained undimmed. Johnny rolled his eyes, though he did it with a smile. “All right, fine. Show me the munchkin already, I know it’s killing you. Entire phone full of pics right there in your pocket and everything.”

Christmas, Halloween, birthdays, beach vacations, bath time, gelato disasters—it was amazing how many photos a father acquires. Nate didn’t foist them on his friends for long. It was good to show them the family he’d built so they could share in its success. But there was a line between pride and boasting he was careful not to cross. He needed things from these two, but not their envy.

“Oh, and I love the new lobby.” Nate said, putting away his phone. “You’ve got terrific taste.”



“I’ll pass the compliment on to my ex, if I ever see her again. But she did have great taste, didn’t she, Tom? The concierge she left me for had the most beautiful eyes. Who needs a Caribbean vacation when you can take a dip in eyes like his?”

“Business has been good, too,” Tom said, ignoring Johnny. “Better than ever.”

“Looks that way,” Nate said. “You’d never know this was the off-season.”

Johnny had already drained his new drink, but he stretched his neck searching for a last drop. The ice clattered against his teeth. These cocktails clearly hadn’t been his first.

“When we were at the Wharf we saw Emma battening down the hatches at the tea shop,” Tom said. “Nate was thinking we could all meet up before he heads home. Put the band back together and all that.”

“I hear there’s going to be a funeral,” Johnny said. “Great time for a reunion.” He went again for the bottom of his empty glass.

Tom exhaled at a volume just a decibel below a sigh.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll see a lot of people there,” Nate said. “But it’d be nice to spend time with them afterward. Not just people from our group, but everyone—Lindsay, the Sarahs—everybody from the old days. It’s been too long since I’ve seen them, and I’d love to reconnect.” He grinned as if nothing would please him more than to have every memory of this place and its people carved on marble and framed in gold.

Johnny peered at him from the hollows of his eyes.

“Selfless. Sappy. And now what’s this? Nostalgic? What’re you going to throw at me next, Nate?”

Nate didn’t let his irritation show. Instead, he set doctor’s eyes on Johnny. Bloodshot and slightly yellow sclera. Periorbital dark circles. A ring of sweat around his collar. Johnny had his mother’s dark skin, but his was ashen. Nate’s old friend wasn’t in good health. The extra weight wasn’t helping him, and neither was the alcohol. Nate wondered if Johnny drank the same way Mr. Vanhouten had.



“Johnny’s in a mood,” Tom told Nate.

“All these windows with a hurricane on the way?” Nate gestured to the wall of glass that opened the Colonnade to the gardens. “I don’t blame him.” He remained the personification of affability, but Nate didn’t intend to drop the idea of a reunion with their classmates. A gathering like this would be the easiest way to talk one-on-one with all their old acquaintances.