We Are the Ants(81)

“Your boyfriend did that,” Charlie said.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He smacked my arm playfully. “He says it’s not finished, that he’s got to paint stars on this wall, and the sun on the other side. Zooey knows all the details. It’s supposed to be, like, the turning of a whole day or some shit.”

“Jesus, Charlie, I can’t believe you did all of this.”

“It’s not permanent, you know, but it’s a start.” I stood there admiring the work my brother and Zooey had put into creating a perfect little corner of the universe for their family. My brother wasn’t a kid anymore. I don’t know that anyone is ever ready to have a baby of their own, but Charlie was as prepared as anyone could be.

“Hey, so what do you think of the name Evie?”

“Evie . . .” I said, trying it out. “I like it.”

“Good.”

“Evie Denton.” The more I said it aloud, the more real it felt. She wasn’t the little parasite anymore. She had a room and a mural and a crib to sleep in. She had a name. My niece and goddaughter, Evie Denton.

? ? ?

It was still an hour until midnight, but I was drunk. No, drunk isn’t the right word for it. I was blitzed. Blitzed and surrounded by the best people in the world.

“I love you, Audrey.” I hung off of her while Diego and Charlie tried to light the cheap firecrackers Charlie had bought from Target as a surprise. Charlie kept trying to light the whole box, and Diego was doing his best to make sure no one blew off their fingers, while Zooey watched from a lawn chair, her belly big and her ankles swollen. “I do. Love you. I was an ass.”

Audrey looked stunning. She’d worn a simple black shift dress that highlighted how beautiful she was. Sometimes I forgot. “I love you too.” I didn’t know if Audrey was drunk, but perspiration beaded her upper lip, and she sipped her vodka and Pop! through a Krazy straw.

A bottle rocket zipped through the air, over Diego’s shoulder, narrowly missing his ear, and exploded with a frantic crack. Charlie’s buddies hooted and crowed. He seemed to have reverted to his teenage self in their presence, but he deserved this time to be dumb—parenthood offers no vacations or sick days. Diego silently begged me for help before telling off my brother for shooting fireworks at his face. I suppose I should have been glad his aim wasn’t as good with a bottle rocket as it was with toast.

“I think I love that guy too.”

“Yeah?” Audrey said. “Does he know?”

“No. Maybe.” Diego wrestled the lighter from my brother and then lit three Roman candles, which sent streamers of blue and red and green sparks into the air. Charlie pumped his fist and hollered. “It doesn’t matter, though. We’re just friends.”

“You’re obviously more than that, Henry. Any idiot can see it.”

I couldn’t look at Diego and not see Jesse. I couldn’t think of the future and not imagine all the ways it could fall apart. Maybe Diego wouldn’t kill himself, but he could end up back in jail or find someone better or move home to Colorado. Only, those weren’t the reasons holding me back. “I don’t think I deserve him.”

Audrey shrugged. “Probably not. But he doesn’t deserve you, either. Maybe that’s why you’re perfect for each other.”

“Do you think it could last?”

“Who cares?”

“I care.”

Audrey sucked up her drink and tossed the empty cup onto the ground. There was no way we were going to be able to hide the fact that we’d had a party from Mom. Fuck it.

“You like bacon, right?” Audrey asked.

“Duh.”

“So, when you’re offered bacon for breakfast, do you refuse because you’re worried about what’s going to happen when it’s gone?”

“No.”

“No!” Audrey smacked me in the chest. “You eat that bacon and you love it because it’s delicious. You don’t fret over whether you’ll ever have bacon again. You just eat the bacon.” Audrey stood in front of me and held my face between her hands. Her expression was so solemn that it was difficult not to laugh. “Eat the bacon, Henry.”

A roar erupted from Charlie and his friends. Audrey and I turned in time to watch a plume of fire and sparks shoot into the air and explode like a supernova. Diego winked at me from across the lawn.

“I’m assuming Diego is the bacon in that analogy.”

“I need another drink.”

? ? ?

Diego and I stood in my bedroom, the lights off, our arms wrapped around each other. The TV blared in the living room. It was still ten minutes to midnight, but it could have been ten seconds, and I wouldn’t have cared.

The bright moon shone through my window, and I froze Diego’s face in my mind, committing to memory the curves of his cheeks and the scar on his temple and the way he shivered when I touched him.

Diego’s skin pressed against mine as he kissed my lips and my neck, lingering only long enough in one spot to make me want more. This was prolonged euphoria, better than the carrot the sluggers used to turn me into their trained monkey.

“It was my mom.”

I stopped kissing Diego. “Is this really the best time to talk about your mom?”