“Yeah.” I nod as I take a seat across from her. “With Mom’s healthcare and the stationary store, I really had trouble getting away.”
Piper offers a sympathetic smile. “I’m so sorry to hear she passed, Drew.”
I hold my old friend’s eye. “Thanks. It was her time.”
It’s the thing I’ve taken to say because I don’t really know what else to say. Mom was ready to go, and honestly, we got six years with her when the doctors told us to expect one.
It still leaves me feeling a little inadequate, though, figuring out how to talk about her death.
I ask Piper about Chicago to move the conversation ahead, and she fills me in on her latest girlfriend, the bookstore where she works, and all the street festivals she’s been enjoying around the city this summer. It’s the kind of life I used to dream about, when I thought I might move to a city like this after school, and I enjoy hearing how happy it’s all made her.
The waiter brings us our lunch, me a salmon salad and Piper a giant veggie sandwich, breaking the conversation.
“Oh,” Piper says brightly. “I almost forgot to ask! Did you ever finish the Nebula Invaders machine?”
I laugh. “You remember my arcade machine,” I say. “That’s actually so nice.”
“Of course I remember. You spent all of freshman year searching for parts.”
I scratch the back of my head. “You did come with me on all those Craigslist errands, didn’t you?”
“Did you finish restoring the machine?”
I smile and lean forward. “I did, and I’m up to three arcade games and two pinball machines.”
Piper laughs delightedly. “Amazing! That’s such an accomplishment, Drew.”
I wave my hand like it’s nothing, but I’m grinning and bouncing in my seat a little at the same time. Restoring arcade games puts me in my happy place, but I don’t really have a lot of people to share my geeky obsession with. “Literally no one back home thinks it’s an accomplishment,” I say with a warm laugh. “Collecting arcade and pinball machines falls into the purely trivial category.”
“Except that you restore them yourself. That’s a big project.”
“Most people don’t care about the difference.” I shrug. “But I’m glad you do.”
Nebula Invaders was my first project, a hard-to-find old game that involves spaceships battling massive alien monsters. I played a machine growing up, at the pizza place in town, then got obsessed with recovering it so I could play it again once I was older. I didn’t have the funds to just buy a functioning, complete machine, but I did have the obsessive dedication to track down components from broken consoles, one at a time, and build my own.
There’s something about the slow work, the rummaging through warehouse lots and then fussing with old electronics later, that I find calming and meditative. And when I play a machine that I recovered myself, it’s like giving life to something, and all those ringing bells and flashing lights zing around inside me, too.
“If you’re ever in Indiana, maybe you can stop by and play one of the games. They’re currently crowding the garage at my mom’s place.”
My place, I remind myself. Mom’s gone, and the house and the stationary shop are mine now.
“I would love that,” Piper says with a smile. “Hey, how long are you here, by the way? Will I get to see you again?”
I brighten up. “Sure! I’m around for a week or so.”
She sets her sandwich down. “What brings you to town, by the way? You said something about doing research when we were texting?”
“It’s kind of a long story, but I guess the short answer is I’m getting a tattoo.”
“A tattoo? Cool. I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into tattoos.” She tilts her head to the side. “What of?”
“I haven’t decided yet. The artist I booked, he, uh, he was friends with my dad. I’m trying to learn more about him.”
“I thought you didn’t know who your dad was?”
“I found out. After my mom passed.” When Piper’s eyes leap open with surprise, I quickly clarify. “When I looked him up, he was dead, too.”
“Oh wow.” Piper deflates, then reaches across the table and takes my hand. “And now you’re getting a tattoo from his old friend? That’s intense, Drew.”
