Authors: David McManus
We talked some more, but I soon realized I needed to go—the sidecars were kicking my ass.
“I hear you,” Mike replied, “I’m buzzing hard myself. I was just thinking, though. Why not text Ashley about meeting Wednesday?”
“What?”
“I said, ‘Why not text Ashley about meeting Wednesday’ now.”
“Saying what?”
“Well she knows you’re out with an old friend, right? And when you get home you can explain we were buds at Camp Marvins, right?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“So text her that you’re having a good time reuniting with your old childhood bud, that you’ll be back soon, and ask if she’s free Wednesday for the three of us to meet up. Like we want to lock it in if we can.”
I looked up at the Yankee game, then back at Mike and said, “OK, I guess, why not?”
I typed, “Hey A, good time reuniting w/old friend, u around wed nite to meet up with us?”
Ten minutes later, Ashley texted back, “Sure, sounds fun.”
“That’s perfect,” Mike said. “So Wednesday night it is.”
“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know how much of a read you’ll get on her, but I’ll talk to her about a place.”
“Yeah, somewhere here in your neighborhood that’s relaxed and comfortable, where the three of us can talk. Maybe that place you mentioned. Or whatever Ashley wants.”
“OK, I’ll talk to her and let you know where.”
“OK, bro,” Mike said once we were outside. “Remember, we met at Camp Marvins. There’s nothing more to remember than that.”
“Right,” I said, and then he gave me a hug.
Mike headed to the subway, and I walked home.
One of my doormen gave me a look when he opened the door, and I mumbled how a client of mine is a big drinker and won’t take no for an answer.
After a few minutes with Ashley, she said, “I think you need to get yourself to bed there, mister.”
The next night Ashley and I checked out a movie at a local theater. It had gotten four-star reviews, but I kept looking at my watch, wondering when the thing would end.
Ashley’s comment—“What in hell was that?”—gave me validation.
On the escalator to the exit, I heard the guy behind me tell his girl, “I want those two hours of my life back.”
When I walked past the ticket booth guy, I gave him a two thumbs down sign, and Ashley laughed.
“Oh my God, I need a drink after that,” Ashley said and suggested Gabriel’s.
“So how about we meet your friend here—what time did you say, eight-thirty?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it’s not crowded then, the music’s not loud, and we can probably get seats at the bar. It’s good for talking, right?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Or is this not the kind of scene you were looking for?”
“No, it is,” I replied.
“Plus, the bartenders know us.”
“Yeah, OK, I’ll tell him to meet us here.”
“Oh,” Ashley said, “so what about going down for ‘Hat Night’?”
“What?” I said.
“Taking Friday off and heading down to LBI Thursday night. We can come back with Mark and Camilla on Saturday.”
“I don’t know,” I said, “I don’t know if I can get Friday off.”
“It’s the Friday of Labor day, a half-day. Is it really critical that you be there?”
“Let me see what I can do.”
I called Mike in the morning to let him know the bar where we would meet. “It’s pretty chill, we go there often,” I said.
“Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there, Dave.”
“No, not really. It’s just the place where Ashley came clean and said the ‘Just bigger, OK’ comment.”
“Well, it sounds like a place we can talk and be comfortable,” Mike said. “We’ll keep things ultra-casual. I’m a good reader of women. We’ll figure out where Ashley’s head is at and get you some much-needed reassurance.”
“OK. I have a meeting to run to, but 8:30 at Gabriel’s.”
“See you then, bro.”
A crazed day at work had me scrambling to get ready. Mike called me at seven to make sure we were still on. I said, “Yeah,” but probably hesitated, because Mike seemed to sense I was nervous. I explained I felt a little weird about the whole Camp Marvins story.
“Oh, Dave, it’s the whitest of white lies. It’s just a way for Ashley to be comfortable and for me to gain insight. Is she there now?”
“No, she’s still at the gym.”
“Relax, Dave, this is going to help. There’ll be no more Tamara pulling interference on you. You’re taking charge now, bro.”
“OK,” I said, “I appreciate that.”
“Hey, Dave? One last thing.”
“What’s that?”
“I was thinking about what you said the other night. About how it might be difficult to get a read on her.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, I thought about this last night. You mentioned you have a San Fran office. You were out there a few weeks ago, right?”
“Yeah.”
“They call your cell after work sometimes, probably, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I was just thinking that for me to really get a read on Ashley, maybe you should go outside for a few minutes, saying you’ve got to take their call. That wouldn’t be too unusual, right?”
“It wouldn’t be that unusual, but the point being what?”
“It would give me a few minutes of alone time where maybe she’d be more open. Get a little more insight.”
“I don’t know, man. I’m already lying as it is.”
“Trust me, Dave, I’ve thought this out. I will definitely get more insight from some brief alone-time with her.”
“So, what are you saying? You want me to excuse myself?”
“Yeah, like, step out of the bar for a bit, so she can feel a little more comfortable talking.”
“I’m running late but fine, I can step out for a few minutes.”
“Cool. So, after we acquaint a bit, I’ll give you a wink when she’s not looking.”
“OK.”
“And Dave?”
“Yeah.”
“Give me a little time, y’know, like say twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes?”
“To try and get something of significance.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Trust me Dave, OK? It will help you figure this all out.”
It was late. There wasn’t time to debate the merits of twenty minutes versus five minutes. “OK,” I said.
“Cool, I’ll be very discreet and signal you when to go. Then look at your phone or BlackBerry and tell us you have to take the call, OK?”
“OK,” I said. “I have to get going. She’s going to be home any minute.”
Ashley had changed into a black dress and Gabriel’s was close enough that she was OK walking there in heels.
“So your friend’s name is Mike, right?”
“Yeah,” I said “Mike Janson.”
“So do you guys have some camp sing-along you’re going to bust out in unison with?”
“No,” I said, nervously.
Mike was already sitting at the bar when we walked in, chatting up the bartender as we came through the door. He smiled broadly when he saw me, stood up, and gave me a hug, saying, “Dave, my man.” Then he said, “And you must be Ashley,” and gave her a hug as well. “Please, have a seat. What can I get you both?”
We knew the bartender in a casual way, and he greeted us as we both ordered vodka-seltzers.
“Wow, Ashley,” Mike said, “Dave told me you were beautiful and showed me a few photos, but you’re far more beautiful in person. You must hear that a lot. My boy’s a lucky guy,” he added, as he rubbed my shoulders.
Mike wasn’t wearing sweat pants this time, nor was he sporting the casual unkempt look I was accustomed to. He was wearing stylish, expensive jeans, trendy leather shoes and a black button down. He was clean-shaven and very polished. This GQ mode kind of threw me.
“Are you on Facebook, Ashley?”
“I’m on FB, but not actively.”
“Just not into it?”
“Maybe I don’t have time, or I’m in touch with my real friends. Those status updates can be so mundane.”
“Yeah, I feel the same,” Mike said, “but I’ll give it props where props are due. It’s how I reconnected with Dave.”
“Yeah,” Ashley said, “that’s what I was thinking when Dave told me you guys connected. It would be fun to reunite with some childhood friends. It must have been strange to see each other after all these years.”
“It was, in a very cool, strange way,” Mike replied. “It gets you reflecting on your life and people who were really important to you. But you know what the strangest thing was about meeting back up with Dave again, Ashley?”
“What’s that?”
“Even though I’m now a grown man,” he replied, “and I haven’t seen Dave in two decades, I still feel like a little brother around him.”
“Little brother?” she asked.
“Well let me back-story it a bit to when we were kids.”
I thought, Where in hell is Mike going now?
“I never felt more alone in the world,” he said, “than the day my parents dumped me off at Camp Marvins and sped on out—on their way to their own vacation.”
“Yeah?” Ashley said, sipping her drink, clearly interested.
“Well, I showed up a few days late and all the kids seemed to know each other. I went into the cabin and lay down on my bed. The counselor ordered me outside to play with other kids, so I stood by a tree, wanting to be invisible. But I knew I wasn’t invisible, I was conspicuous. You know the merry-go–round, the ones at the playground? I mean you’ve ridden them as a kid?”
“Yeah, sure,” she replied.
“Well, I’m sure you guys were naturals, but I’d never been on one. But I tried to study the etiquette. If you want to get on, you have to spin the thing for the others before you jump on yourself.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it took a while for me to get the courage to make my move. Only I was nervous and wasn’t spinning it fast enough, so I picked up the pace and fell head-first—smack into the sand. Everyone laughed at me, and not just the kids on the merry-go-round.”
“Wow,” Ashley laughed, “for you to remember it so well now, it must have been traumatic.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Mike replied as he sipped his beer, “so I fell spinning a merry-go-round. As for how I felt at that moment, it ranks up there with the most traumatic moments of my life.”
“Were you there?” Ashley asked me.
“I don’t think so,” I replied, “I don’t remember.”
“No he wasn’t,” Mike said. “I was sitting on a rock by myself a while later and you know what older boy comes up, sits down beside me, and asks my name?’”
Ashley smiled brightly. “Would that older boy be Dave, by any chance?”
“You are sharp, Ashley. Dave told me that about you. Yes, it was. I’m sure you don’t remember this, Dave, but I remember you chatting me up about baseball.”
“I don’t remember,” I said, feeling blind-sided by the story he was telling.
“Yeah,” Mike said. “I loved baseball as a kid, and we were talking batting averages and pitchers, and that encounter changed everything. He introduced me to his friends, brought me in to his circle, and suddenly I was catapulted to being the cool kid in camp, being friends with the older kids.”
Ashley put her arm around me and saddled up in couple-mode.
“What can I say?” I said. “I had been there myself.”
“Yeah,” Ashley said, “Dave’s dad still talks about how bad he felt seeing Dave’s forlorn expression the first time he left him there.”
“Yeah, Dave told me about the ‘Everything’s dandy, dad’ un-mailed letter the other night. I hadn’t heard that one before.”
“Oh yeah,” Ashley replied, “that cracked me up when I first heard it. Like if they had read your mail, an eight-year-old boy using the word ‘dandy’ in the 1980s should have raised red flags.”
“Well, what Dave did for me,” Mike said, “especially at that age when kids can be mean, just speaks to his character.”
“Aww,” Ashley said, “that’s all sweet,” and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
“C’mon guys,” I said, “you’re embarrassing me. All I did was befriend a lonely kid.”
“Well, it meant a lot to me,” Mike said, patting my back.
Mike asked Ashley about her job. She said she liked it, but that it was not without its headaches. She talked about how clients could be difficult, then told of having to talk a client off a ledge that afternoon after first having him chew her out.