When he asks me where I want to go though, I draw a blank. I haven’t talked to James or Stephanie since they had to leave New York the next day, so I have no idea where they are and they have no idea I’m here.
I get the cab to take me to Stephanie’s place first and tell him to wait a wee bit. This is going to take a while. The ring I got for her from Tiffany’s feels like its burning a hole right through the coin pocket in my jeans. I have no fucking clue what to say or do and I don’t know how long the cab is going to wait if it turns out she’s home.
But she’s not. I buzz her flat four or five times but she never answers. Finally I limp back to the cab and tell the driver to take me to James’s place. I figure James will probably know where she is, or at least have an idea. I’m not sure if they stayed friends or not since everything went down but they did fly all the way to New York to see me.
It doesn’t matter. James isn’t home anyway. He must be at the Lion.
So the poor sucker for a cab driver takes me all the way there. At least then I’m able to send him on his way and I make sure he’s got a huge tip for all the effort and all the times he’s had to help me in and out of the car.
Ghostly fog moves around as I slowly make my way to the door. A hundred memories come with this place. With the muffled sounds and warm light from the bar, it’s like living in the past.
I open the door and am greeted by everything that’s good, everything I’ve missed. This place has a smell. It’s stale beer and cologne and smoke that clings to the walls from decades ago and greasy French fries and cut lemons. It’s actually kind of a gross smell but I love it all the same.
The first person I see is James. He’s behind the counter, wiping it, and I feel like I’m in an episode of Cheers because Dan walks past me holding a drink and says, “Linden!” And then says, “Holy shit dude, you’re fucked up!”
I pat him on the back and keep walking until James sees me. The cloth nearly drops from his hand. He’s speechless. But Penny – Penny! – is sitting at the counter in what was her usual seat, and she follows James’s vacant gaze to where I am.
“Hey!” she cries out happily, getting out of her stool and coming over to hug me. She’s gentle. “What are you doing here?” She looks me up and down, her fingers pausing at a few cuts I have on my cheekbones. “Oh god, you look so terrible. But it’s kind of hot.”
What are you doing here? I want to ask but then I guess it’s pretty obvious that whatever real reasons James had for breaking up with her, he’s over them now.
“I’ve moved back,” I tell her, eyeing James. “Thought I would finish my road to recovery here.”
His eyes bug out even more and finally he says something. “Are you serious?”
“Yup,” I tell him. “Bram is moving my shit across the country again as we speak.”
“Why didn’t you go with him?” he asks. “It’s probably a lot more comfortable being in a vehicle than being all banged up on an airplane.”
I exhale loudly. “Well, it’s my birthday tomorrow.”
“I know,” he says with a wry grin.
“Thirty one,” Penny adds excitedly.
“Yes. Well, I came back to follow through on something.” I look around the bar. “Have you guys seen Stephanie?”
“Oh,” Penny says, her voice drops a register. She exchanges a look with James.
“What?”
“Uh,” James says, scratching at his neck. “She’s here but she’s, uh, on a date.”
Fuck. Why the hell did I just assume she was going to be single?
“A date?”
“Yeah.” His eyes light up hopefully. “But the good news is that I think it’s only her second one with him. I mean, this time around. It’s her ex.”
“Who? Surfer dude?”
“Aaron? No. The douchey accountant.”
“The vodka swiller who cheated on her?” I ask incredulously. “Captain Assbag No Fun?”
“Yep.”
“Fuck that,” I say. “Why is she with him? Where is she?”
James jerks his head in the direction of behind the bar, near the washrooms. The last time I was in those washrooms, I was fucking Steph against the wall. This time I want to grab Owen and try to flush his head down the toilet. Why the hell is she with a guy who treated her like crap?
Suddenly I don’t feel even mildly ashamed of what I’m about to do.
I take off around the bar, James calling after me, “What are you doing Linden?” but I ignore him.
There, in the corner booth, is Stephanie and Owen. He’s cutting up a salad with a fork (what guy orders salad at a pub?) and blabbing on about something. He’s wearing a suit, now has glasses, and he’s barely got any hair left. His ears are started look like Bilbo Baggins’s.