Funny Feelings (37)

“You wanna get drunk?” is what I offer instead.

He shrugs, his shoulders giving a weary little jump, “Fuck it.”





15





NOW





“If love is the treasure, laughter is the key.” - Yakov Smirnoff





MEYER


I remember my mom complaining every year without fail about the speed at which the holiday season flies by. Something about the short days being shorter than normal, the early dark, and the cold. I suppose the cold was more of a factor back in Ohio versus here in California, but the sentiment still tracks.

The two weeks after the apple picking date go by in a flash, mostly spent in more paperwork and scheduling arrangements. We’ve worked out the pre-tour-tour schedule, and I’ve worked out a vacation back to Ohio for Hazel to spend with my parents, sister, and nephews.

My parents, especially, are both thrilled and shocked. My mom started crying on the FaceTime call and I realized that perhaps I have been too stingy with my trust. They both learned fluent ASL, after all, and have asked to spend more time with her over the years, repeatedly.

I had a perfectly good upbringing, milquetoast by definition, but always felt loved and cared for. And they still loved and supported me even when they didn’t quite understand my desire to pursue stand-up. My sister and I were never particularly close until I had Haze. Now we are as close as siblings who live states apart can be, I suppose.

Nevertheless, I’m realizing that I’ve been pretty immovable when it’s come to letting Hazel stay away for too long, even under their care. So, I’m sure that this is going to be good for all of us.

We’ve also got the NFL game and seats all arranged for some photo opps, but, without planning it, have already earned some extra credit as far as all that goes. There are officially photos and articles circulating online, thanks to Apple-ocalypse (Fee’s term, can’t take credit for it), and even a few from our mall stroll. I’ve done an excellent job of not looking at the pictures or any captions, though— as has Fee… at least I assume, since she hasn’t brought anything up.

She enters my mind and the barbell flies up, suddenly light even after numerous sets. I rack the thing and get up, sliding my headphones out and cutting the workout short.

I hit dial on FaceTime before I can calculate what I want to say or talk myself out of it, but it’s ringing as I walk into the locker room.

Fee’s face pops onto the screen, brightly smiling until she sees me and it twitches a little. “Oh hey. Meyer—I was expecting Hazel.”

“You always expect Hazel when I call?”

“When it’s on FaceTime, yes” Oh, duh. I guess that makes sense.

“Ugh ohmy—Meyer!! ACK! Where the hell are you?! God, my eyes!!” she wails, and I turn to see what looks like a frog in a human suit, standing on its hind legs. A naked old man with an indent where his ass should be—fuck—yep, my eyes sadly went there. The man turns and Fee’s screams echo through the room.

“MEYER WHY!!!!”

“Shit, I’m sorry sir,” I say to the man, before I scoop my belongings out of the locker and bolt, he and his naked-old-man-clan shouting expletives behind me.

“Why did you apologize to him?! Jesus Christ, apologize to me!”

I slide into my car and shut the door before I completely lose it. I don’t know how long I laugh but by the end of it I’m clutching my ribs. “I’m sorry Fee. I didn’t even think,” I finally look down at her as I swipe a tear away.

She’s smiling her biggest smile, chin cupped in her hands, clearly enjoying herself. “It’s alright. You have a great laugh, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Only by her. “Hey, I wanted to ask you, do you want to get dinner with Hazel and I before the recital tonight?”

“Of course. I came up with some stuff I wanna show you, too,” she inhales excitedly, her shoulders lifting. An excited Fee is an adorable Fee.

“Sounds good. Can’t wait. How about we pick you up around four-thirty? Haze wants pizza.” Surprise, surprise.

“Sounds good. Can’t wait,” she replies, and why does that make me grin like an idiot? Why am I loving this little streak we’ve got of repeating things back and forth? This little game of tit for tat.

Oh shit, I’m still just smiling at the screen. I wipe the grin from my face. “‘Kay, then. See you later.”

“Bye.” She waves.

I put my phone away and catch my reflection in the rearview mirror. “You need to get it together, old man. You are not sixteen. Be cool.”

But the dumb grin keeps trying to pull on my lips, and I laugh to myself countless times on the short drive home.

I look back at the mirror after I pull into the garage, and sigh. “You’re so fucked.”





“Dad, no one cares what you wear to my recital. No one will be looking at you,” Hazel signs as we walk up to Fee’s door. She’s in her full leotard getup, but not entirely ready. And I can’t even respond because my arms are full as I trail behind her with various hair gels, sprays, and glitters. I’d just asked her if my tie was okay—apparently a moronic thing to even wonder, if the facial expressions indicate anything.