Practice Makes Perfect(81)

J.D. took a moment, then looked back toward the game. “It was a few years ago, at the firm holiday party. Payton had brought a date, some writer she’d met at the gym or something, and they were standing at the bar getting a drink. And I remember, as I watched her . . . I guess it was the way she smiled at the guy. The way she laughed at something he said. It made me think, it made me wonder what it would be like to . . .” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, Ben caught me staring at her, and he cornered me the next day at the office and made some jokes about it. I panicked, thinking he might say something in front of Payton, so I made up a story that I thought would get him off my back. A story that would . . . make things seem like less than they were.”

“Make things seem like less than what?”

J.D. paused. Then he slowly looked over and stared Tyler straight in the eyes. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to.

“For how long?” Tyler asked, shocked.

J.D. considered this. “About eight years now, I guess.”

“You’re kidding me.” Tyler’s expression was one of disbelief. “All this time.”

“Pretty much, yes.”

“This whole entire time.”

“What do you need to know, like, the exact moment?” J.D. asked.

“Well, now that you mentioned it, I am kind of curious. Wait, let me guess—from the first moment you met her,” Tyler joked.

“Actually, no, smart-ass.” J.D. paused. “It was the second moment.” I guess you’ll have to find out for yourself, J. D. Jameson. Yep—he had spent years trying to deny it, even to himself, but that sly little look of hers had pretty much done him in for good.

Tyler laughed. “No offense, J.D., but isn’t that a little deep for you?”

“I’ve managed to remain remarkably shallow in pretty much all other aspects of my life. I figure it balances out.”

Tyler nodded. “Good point.”

The crowd around them suddenly roared and things turned ugly as people began booing the umpire. For a few minutes, J.D. and Tyler were distracted, swept up in the game. Then the fans quieted down, satisfied that their indignation had been properly expressed, and everyone went back to their beers, hot dogs, and peanuts. They were Cubs fans—they got over disappointment quickly.

Tyler and J.D. ordered another round of beers from a vendor passing by. After they shuffled their money down the row, and the beers made their way back, Tyler settled into his seat.

“You have to tell her, you know.”

“I knew you were going to say that,” J.D. said. “I don’t think she’ll care. You didn’t see the look on her face as she walked away.”

“But before that, she came after you to tell you she wanted to be with you. There’s hope in that.”

J.D. took a sip of his beer. “Even if she could forgive me for the thing I told Ben, I think she’s right. At the very least, it’s going to be awkward between us after the firm’s decision. And there will be tension, lots of it. Maybe even resentment.” He switched his beer back and forth between his hands. “I don’t want to start something with her that’s destined to fail. That would be worse than not being with her at all, I think.”

Tyler shifted in his seat. “Have you considered . . .” he trailed off, uncertain whether he should even suggest such an idea.

“Yes.” J.D. had already considered the possibility, even though he couldn’t say it out loud. He raked his fingers through his hair. “I, uh . . . whew.” He took a deep breath. “I really don’t know that I could do that. Maybe if I knew it would make a difference. Maybe.”

“There’s no way of knowing that, J.D.”

“I’ve grasped that, yes.”

Tyler grabbed J.D.’s shoulder. “I wish there was more I could say, buddy. But I think you’re just going to have to ask yourself what you’re willing to risk for a chance to be with her. That’s really what it boils down to, isn’t it?”

J.D. took a moment to consider his friend’s words. “It’s not just the job, you know,” he finally said. “I’d like to at least walk out of there tomorrow with my pride. I’m not exactly good at putting myself out there.”

Tyler laughed. “You don’t say?”

“Do you have any advice that’s actually constructive? Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy trite commentary and rhetorical questions as much as the next guy, but can you at least throw me a bone with something helpful?”

Tyler turned serious. “Listen—I can’t give you any advice on what to do about the thing you don’t know if you can do. Only you can make that decision. But in terms of whether you should put yourself out there, I’ll tell you this: If I was Payton, and I had overheard what you’d said to Ben, I wouldn’t even have bothered to give you the opportunity to explain yourself. I would’ve pulled out my white glove and slapped you across the face and walked away.”

“I just want to clarify—in this scenario, are we also in a Bugs Bunny cartoon?”

“It’s a metaphor, J.D.”

“I would guess so.”

“Fine, I’ll be more blunt: You don’t like to put yourself out there? Well, too bad. Fuck your pride—it’s the only chance you’ve got.”