“You gonna talk to him?” I question.
She looks over at me and nods. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Good.”
“So when are you coming back home?”
“I don’t really know. Whenever. For sure Thanksgiving though.”
“Connor was asking if you were going to take him trick-or-treating this year.”
I love her kids. Although they are my cousin’s children, we’ve always just referred to them as my nieces and nephews. I have a lot; three nieces and four nephews. Being an uncle is great, and I take pride in spoiling them rotten despite their parents. “You know it’s always a busy night at the bar, but I’ll see what I can do. Don’t say anything to him though because if I can’t make it back here, I don’t want him to be let down.”
She smiles and says, “I won’t.”
“How is Bailey doing?” I ask about her one-year-old daughter.
“Crazy,” she laughs. “She’s a tiny diva. I look at her, and I know I’m in for trouble in about fourteen years.”
“Well, if she’s anything like you were . . .”
“God, don’t even say it!” she whines.
We both laugh, knowing all too well how much of a partier she used to be when we were in high school.
Recalling a memory, I mention, “I will never forget seeing you hanging over the docks and puking into the water.”
“Ugh! That was awful. I was trying to be cool in front of that guy, Shawn, so that he would notice me.”
“Oh, he noticed you,” I joke, laughing harder. We used to get together in Astoria, where she’s from. We’d meet up with friends late at night and drink on the docks. Every now and then we’d get busted, but it never stopped us from going back.
“You ready?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m starved,” I respond as I stand up and grab my board. We head up the stairs, off the beach, and to my jeep. Loading everything up, we make the drive out of Ecola Park and back home.
The smell of coffee and bacon fills the house as we walk through the front door. We toss our gear into the laundry room then head into the kitchen where my mom is scrambling eggs.
“How was the beach?” she asks as I pour a mug of coffee.
“Good,” Tori answers.
“Well, it’s a good thing you guys went when you did. It’s supposed to rain this afternoon.”
“You know rain doesn’t stop us,” I say as I walk by and kiss her cheek.
She plates our food, and we all sit to eat.
“Tori has to bail tomorrow,” I tell my mom.
“Oh, no. Everything okay with the kids?” she asks.
“Yeah, the kids are good. Trevor has to go into the office, that’s all.”
“When are you heading back?” she asks me before taking a sip of her coffee.
“I’ll probably stay here for a couple of days. I’m in no rush to get back. Michael should have everything under control.”
Finishing breakfast, I help my mom clean the kitchen before heading to my room to get cleaned up.
After my shower, I lie down on my bed and call Gavin.
“Hey, man. How’s the beach?” he says when he answers.
“Good. Anything going on Tuesday?” Too many serious conversations yesterday and my head needs an escape when I get back home.
“Whatever you want to go on,” he responds.
Gav and I have been friends for nearly ten years now. Through the years, I feel like our friendship, although it remains constant, has grown a bit superficial. He still parties the way we used to in college. We go out a lot, and he’s into the chicks as much as I am. He’s loud and obnoxious, where I’m more laidback, but he’s my one friend that isn’t tied down.
“Monkey Pub?” I suggest.
“Yeah, that works.”
“I’ll text you later then.”
“All right, man. I’ll catch you when you get back.”
I spent the rest of my time with my mom, hanging out and taking it easy. It’s always good to see her and catch up, although we talk on the phone often. She’s always sad to see me leave. I know she was hoping I would move back to Oregon after I graduated college, but Seattle is my home. I love it.
When I get back in town, I head to Monkey Pub to meet Gavin. The lot is packed as I pull in to park. Walking in, the crowd is thick, and there are a few drunken college girls on stage, murdering a song in karaoke.
“Ryan,” I hear Gavin holler, and when I spot him by the bar, I make my way over.
“Mel, what are you doing here?” I ask, but before she can answer, I catch her husband, Zane. “Shit, man. I haven’t seen you in forever,” I say to him as I clap his shoulder.
“Busy with the band. Things are finally starting to take off.”
“God, don’t get him started,” Mel complains before she downs a shot.
“Fill me in,” I encourage, and he proceeds to tell me that his band has been offered a contract for a recording deal.
“No shit? That’s great,” I tell him.
“Thanks. We’re pretty stoked.”
When I see the irritation in Mel’s eyes, I question, “What’s got you so pissy?”
“Zane forgot to mention that he would have to move to L.A.”
“You’d think she’d be happy, but I can’t get my woman on board to go to California,” he tells me as he wraps his arm around her.