ready

“Remember throwing ice into that chimney?”

“I was just thinking about that! We met that night.”

After several minutes of “Remember that time we” reminiscing, I’m not surprised when he gets quiet and starts pushing his rice around on the plate. J is the sentimental type.

“You’re going to miss this.” He moves the rice and I watch some fall onto the table cloth. “I’m going to miss you.”

And me? I’m somewhat detatched sitting there, looking over J’s shoulder at Fenway thinking about mint green tile and change of address cards. Did I pay my Sprint bill?

New Girlfriend returns from the bathroom, and J pays for the meal. When the credit card receipt comes back he signs, looks across the table and says, “You ready to go?”

I nod and reach for my jacket.

Yes. I am.