Full Tilt (Full Tilt #1)(96)

“The medication would eventually wreck it, while my body would wrecks a second heart transplant thanks to my craptastically rare tissue-type.” I chucked him on the shoulder. “So keep your damn internal organs to yourself.”

He laughed then. A small laugh, but real. “Fine. But say the word and it’s yours. Whatever you want or need…if I can give it to you, it’s yours. Okay?”

“I might have a favor to ask you.”

His head shot up. “Anything. Name it, give me something…”

But the doorknob rattled then. I glanced at it, holding up a finger. “Not now…”

Kacey came in the door, her arms laden with grocery bags. “Hey, my two favorite men in the world in one place. Must be my lucky day.”

Theo got up to take the bags. She smiled and teased him for being secretly chivalrous. Then they were putting the groceries away, bickering lightly the entire time, while I sat on the couch, my smile turned away where they couldn’t see.





We ate dinner at my parents’ house that night, as we did nearly every other night now. Oscar and Dena and Tania were always invited. I wanted my people around me as often as possible.

Early on, Kacey was chatting with Tania, and Dena was helping my parents plating the dinner. Oscar glanced surreptitiously toward the kitchen and pulled his chair closer to mine. He rubbed his hands up and down on his jeans as if his palms were sweaty.

“What’s up, man?” I asked. “You in the doghouse with Dena?”

A smile flickered over his lips, then was gone again. “No, but I could be if I don’t get this right.” He puffed his cheeks with air and said, “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

I sat back in my chair, my chest flooding with happiness. But Oscar was nervous enough without me getting emotional on him. I feigned total shock. “But Oscar, it’s only been six years. Are you sure? You don’t want to rush into this…”

“I know, I know.” He laughed shortly and ran his hand over his close-cropped hair. “I never want to be with anyone else but I didn’t think I needed—or wanted—some ceremony or piece of paper to make it official. But seeing you with Kacey these last weeks…” Oscar’s smile froze on his face, his eyes unblinking as if he could lock his emotion down before it could be revealed. “If you love someone as much as I love Dena, then you hold on to her, right? As long as you can, as hard as you can.”

“Yeah, man,” I said softly. “Sounds exactly right.”

Oscar nodded and we took a moment; he sipped his beer and I waited until he was ready to speak again.

“So when’s the big day?” I asked.

“She has to say yes first,” Oscar said, and cleared his throat. “But that’s another thing I wanted to talk to you about. The date. I want you to be there. My best man. Vegas is the capital of quickie weddings.” He stopped at my shaking head and waving hands. “What?”

“You can’t have a quickie wedding with Dena Bukhari,” I said. “Can you picture our girl in a traditional Iranian dress, in a gaudy chapel officiated by Elvis? No, no. She needs the works.”

Oscar shifted in his seat. “I know it. But her parents are in London and grandparents in Iran. The visa situation alone is going to take six months.”

I leaned forward and clapped my friend on his shoulder. “It’s enough that I know it will happen. I’m happy for you, man. For both of you. Give her the wedding you both deserve. I’ll be there in spirit.” I chucked his arm. “Literally.”

Oscar barked a laugh and looked away. “I’m going to miss you, man,” he told his beer bottle.

“Thanks for saying that,” I said, because I knew how hard it was for him to do so. “I’m going to miss you too. Both of you. And I’m really f*cking happy to know you’ll take care of each other.”

“She’ll take care of me,” Oscar said. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying not to screw up.”

I laughed and he laughed, and we got over the emotional hump like a wagon wheel finally lurching over a rock. I didn’t need Oscar’s tears to know he cared about me, or expect a bunch of sentimental words. I just needed to be around him and that was enough.

After dessert, my father tapped his knife on the side of his wine glass, and took a piece of folded paper from his shirt pocket.

“This arrived in the mail this afternoon,” he said. “From Carnegie Mellon. I presumed it was junk mail or a form letter. Good thing I opened it.” He cleared his throat and began to read. “Dear sir. This letter is to inform you, Jonah Miles Fletcher, that you have achieved the degree of Master of Fine Arts from Carnegie Mellon University and all honors, benefits and rights conferred hereto…”

There was more but the table erupted in cheers and applause, drowning out my father. Kacey’s arms went around my neck, then she pushed her chair back and crawled right in my lap. I held her face, gazed into the blue depths of her eyes. She was so much. I could spend a thousand full lifetimes and never reach the end of her.

She is a universe…

I realized in that moment my glass legacy was woefully incomplete. The evening drew to a close, a slow migration began for the door, with hugs and hand-shakes, and drawing on of coats. I pulled Tania aside.