Page 60 of When the Walls Come Down
“Come on. There’s got to be some kind of satisfaction watching that play out from afar.”
I dropped my chin to my chest. “Yeah, that happened two weeks ago. I got the recap on a call with my other sister Melanie last night. It’s funny, I used to get so annoyed with them when they’d put me in the middle of their crap. And now, I’d give anything to just hang up on one of them a dozen times.” I shook my head, not wanting to fall down the woe-is-me rabbit hole. “Anyway, it’s nothing big. I’m just feeling off tonight. Let’s keep it happy, remember?”
He sighed. “Okay. Happy. I can do that. But just so you know, I’d still be here if you just wanted to talk about your crazy family. Part of that is because I fear my knee has become gangrenous and I physically can’t walk. But the other part is because I take the job of your best and only friend very seriously.”
A wave of romance the likes of when he had bought those lilacs crashed over me, but still, I teased, “Who said you were my best and only friend?”
Completely ignoring me, Shane went for the happy. “So, is cereal a soup? Why or why not? And go.”
It was hands down the most ludicrous question I had ever been asked. Yet we spent entirely too long laughing and debating. The final decision was that it was not a soup, and we classified it as a member of the oatmeal family instead.
For three hours, Shane regaled me with the equally-as-absurd topics of:
The world’s worst baby name? We both came to a resounding agreement on Shangobunni.
If I were required to detach two parts of my body each night, what would they be and why? He’d started to argue that it would be his arms, but after some time, we concluded that maximum comfort and safety could only be reached if it were the left arm and right leg.
Toilet paper, over or under? Him over. Me under.
See? We were completely incompatible.
Even with a hoodie and a blanket I’d retrieved from my apartment, my teeth were chattering, and my lids were heavy by the time we reluctantly called it a night.
My expectations had been reasonably low when I’d thrown that speaker over to his side of the balcony. I’d figured at best I’d get a quick fix before I settled into bed.
But Shane had given me more.
I should have learned by now that Shane always gave me more.
By the time our respective doors closed that night, there was one thing I was sure of.
Shane was unquestionably my best friend.
There was also a strong possibility I was already in love with him too.I lifted the bar and set the weights on the rack, having successfully doubled my typical routine.
So what? I’d done extra squats with extra weight. I didn’t have to explain anything to anyone. My ass would speak for itself. It just didn’t hurt living with the knowledge that someone, other than my physician, was noticing after all this time.
Maggie was an ass lady. What a stunning pervert she was.
After wiping down the equipment, I grabbed my bag and headed home. It was still pretty early that Saturday morning, so I didn’t bother removing my earbuds as I trekked back to the building, chugging and damn near draining the entire water bottle on the way.
Inside the lobby, I almost shit my pants—totally lost in my thoughts—when I felt a tapping on my shoulder as I made my way to the elevator.
“Jesus,” I said and yanked a pod from my ear. “Scared the hell out of me.”
“Sorry,” Monique, the morning desk clerk, apologized. “I wanted to catch you before you went up. This was delivered for you.” She passed an Amazon box off to me, but the crazy thing was I hadn’t ordered anything.
“Sure it’s for me?” I asked, flipping it over to read the label.
“Yep. Came about ten minutes after you left this morning. I had the delivery woman leave it here so it wouldn’t get left in the hall. You know how they do sometimes.”
Right there on the shipping label were my name and address. Maybe it was from my parents or Reggie. Instead of standing there playing the guessing game any longer, I said, “Thanks. Have a good day.” Then I headed up.
“You too, Shane. See you later,” she called as she went back to her post.
The second I got into my apartment, I dropped my things and went to the kitchen for a tool to cut the box open. Atop the big, protective bubble packing, there was a gift note.Old Man,
Maybe these will protect your delicate skin from any further life-threatening injury. Get better soon, you baby.
Your Needy NeighborMaggie Peach Light Gray Italian had sent me fucking kneepads. That ornery shithead. God, she was awesome, but the little prankster didn’t know who she was messing with. I was the oldest of three children. My pranks were the stuff legends were made of.
