A New Opportunity #2

By mid-morning, when my stomach stops bothering me, I get hungry and fix something light because I’d rather not push it after the beating I gave my body with alcohol last night.

I’ve got almost everything figured out. The only thing left is to work out how we’re going to get Debra to come to my place—and for that, I need Joe. I call him. He should be up by now.

“Kill me and put me out of my misery,” he says when he picks up.

“Hello to you too,” I answer with a bit more humor than him.

“Why do you let us get that wasted, Haven?” he complains.

“Because you’re my friend and I trust you,” I add. “Which maybe I shouldn’t, because we always end up the worse for it.”

“This time nobody tried to marry you,” he counters.

“What a relief!” I burst out laughing.

“Why are you waking me up so early?”

“First, it’s nearly afternoon; second, I need you to get in touch with your friend to see if she’ll help us with the Debra plan. I’ve decided we’ll do it here, at my place. A public venue doesn’t appeal to me and—”

“I’ve certainly never taken you for an exhibitionist,” he interrupts, and only then do I understand what he means.

“Stop looking for double meanings in everything I say and focus, Joe,” I scold him.

“I’m not the one who suggested doing it in public.” He laughs.

“Sounds like your hangover’s gone, so move your ass and get it over here. We’ve got a lot to do.”

“You’re the one who wants hearts and glitter with Debra—I just offered to call my friend. Don’t expect me to—”

“Get over here,” I cut him off.

And as happens with me when he asks, Joe can’t say no to what I need. That’s why we’re such good friends. When one of us needs the other, the other shows up without hesitation.

He doesn’t take long—he lives near my building—and he brings coffee for both of us.

He still looks rough; he drank even more than I did last night.

But he wears a contagious smile I can’t help mirroring.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him without it, except at my mother’s funeral.

That was a hard blow for him too because he loved her very much.

“Wow.” He’s surprised when he sees the list. “You’ve been productive this morning. Did you sleep at all?”

“Enough.” I don’t specify because the truth is it was only a few hours.

“While I was waiting for the coffees,” he tells me, “I spoke with Angie. When she heard I wanted to get you two together, she went crazy with excitement—I think she’s more thrilled than you are.

She even told me all of Debra’s preferences: music, flowers, food…

I can’t handle that much enthusiasm at this hour of the morning after a wild night, man. ”

“That was your fault—I said nice and chill.”

“Right.” He dismisses my comment with a wave.

“So she’ll help us?”

“She’d bring Debra to you today if she could,” he confirms, laughing.

“It has to be a Friday or Saturday,” I say. “I don’t want to be watching the clock the whole time. I need to focus on Debra.”

“That’s what I told her. Well, not in those words, but I mentioned the weekend.”

“Good.”

And although on the phone he said he wouldn’t help with the preparations, he does.

Because Joe is the kind of friend everyone wishes they had.

The one who listens, supports you, pushes you to be better, to go after what you want, and never give up.

The one who doesn’t ask unnecessary questions because he always knows how to draw the information out of you when you need to unload.

He’s the kind of friend who celebrates your achievements, even when his own plans haven’t worked out.

After my mother’s death, he was there, tireless, trying to push me forward but respecting my decision not to move.

And yes, he may have been very insistent about leaving town, but he knew when to put on the brakes so it wouldn’t become uncomfortable.

I’ll never find a friend like him. He’s worth his weight in gold.

“Are you going to be able to hold out a whole week to see her?” he asks hours later.

We ordered pizzas about half an hour ago and we’re watching a movie. That’s usually always the Sunday plan, if nothing better comes up. Or if we’re not heading home.

After my father gave me Debra’s letter, we had a long talk about my mother and everything that had happened to us since she left.

He confessed that his greatest fear was that I’d leave and never come back.

That’s why he always insisted he needed me at the factory.

He refused to sell because he used it as an excuse to keep me tied to him.

We talked for hours in a way we hadn’t in a long time.

That day I understood I’d lost him too when my mother went, and that I’d been missing him ever since.

I promised him I’d always come back, that going out to find my place in the world wouldn’t exclude him from my life.

And I’m keeping that promise. In fact, my father feared Joe would pull me away, but it’s been the opposite.

My friend comes with me every time I visit and his family sees him more than before.

I also had a talk with Matilda after Joe brought to light the job she’d turned down to stay in town for me.

I felt terrible because it was never my intention to give her hope.

We’d had a moment together, but I thought we’d both understood it was over.

Debra warned me, but I thought it was jealousy. How blind I was!

I tried to convince her to fight for her dreams, but she became hysterical because she knew I was rejecting her. She begged me to give her a chance to prove we could be happy together and, though I didn’t want to hurt her, I know that when I explained why it couldn’t be, I broke her heart.

The day I finally left town with Joe, only his grandmother came to say goodbye.

“She’ll get over it,” my friend told me. But she left for Europe a couple of months later and I haven’t heard from her since, except for what her brother tells me now and then, which isn’t much because she doesn’t really talk to him either.

“I’ve managed a year without seeing her,” I answer Joe’s question. “I think I can handle a week.”

“But during these months you believed she didn’t want anything to do with you,” he points out.

“And it’s not like I now have any certainty she wants to see me.”

“That’s true.”

And although I thought I could handle the wait, the week felt endless.