“How old are they?” I ask.
“My parents? They’re in their mid-seventies.”
“They’reyoungerthan me?”
My voice echoes.
“Sid,” he says calmly, placing his arm around my back. “It’s okay. They will adore you. Stay for brunch. You were going to anyway. At least I can introduce my parents to my new boyfriend.”
“You just called me your friend,” I say.Why did I say that?
“I wasn’t thinking. I was just surprised they’re standing in my kitchen.”
“God, Leo, I could babysit them.” I finally look at him. “And you.”
“They will be okay, I promise. I once dated a guy in his twenties, and all my mother could say was, ‘Does the boychick eat brisket?’ as she got blind drunk.”
“I can’t do family drama again,” I say. “I’ve done it my whole life.”
“I promise there will be no drama,” he says. “But I can’t guarantee it won’t be awkward for a while.”
I stand frozen looking outside. Everything looks different now.
“Let’s go rip the Band-Aid off,” he continues. “Together.”
“I think I’ll take a rain check,” I say. “And I also think I need a drink.”
I grab the bottle of champagne and pop the cork.
“Do you at least want to hear some good news?” Leo asks.
I lift the bottle to my mouth and take a hearty sip.
“Shoot,” I say.
“Neither of my parents can drink grapefruit juice,” Leo says with a smile. “They’re both on statins.”
Teddy
“You must be having such a great time on your winter break,” I say to Ava. “Now we get to talk about all the things young girls love to discuss on vacation: incontinence and erectile dysfunction.”
Ava doesn’t look up from texting. “Those would actually be less triggering topics for most teenage girls than what we actually discuss. And they sound like Taylor Swift songs,” she deadpans.
“You mean Cardi B songs?”
She lifts a brow and smiles. “You are learning at the feet of the master. I’m so proud.”
Ava returns to her cell.
This tiny speck of molten lava has not only convinced me to see my doctor again, but she has also sacrificed her dwindling pool time to accompany an old man to his doctor’s appointment. This young shadow of a woman is my pillar of strength today. She is the only one who knows what I am facing.
Ava has climbed into a visitor’s chair in the miniscule exam room in my doctor’s office and pretzeled herself into it as if she’s lounging in a recliner at home. She is all angles, like a geometry textbook. You could turn me into a Barbie doll and I still couldn’t twist my body parts into the ways she has managed to twist hers.
Her fingers move at the speed of light.
“You should be my surgeon,” I say, “with nimble hands like that.”
“These hands will not be going anywhere near your old ass.”
