“I don’t think you can blame all that on the article,” Gage challenges. “Some of that was happening prior to your recent fame.”
I roll my eyes. “I guess, but it’s definitely gotten worse.”
“And you’re sure you’re strictly professional at work?” he asks. “How many of the nurses have you slept with?”
So much for supportive friends… “Not that many,” I protest.
“How do you describenot that many—two, six, a dozen?” Gage asks.
“Like you were a virgin when you met Stella?” I push back.
Gage gives me a look. “When did I ever say that?”
Rather than continue to receive no pity from my friends, I shift the conversation to the game next week. The Goldminers are playing the Cowboys on Thanksgiving Day.
“What are you guys doing for Thanksgiving?” I ask, wondering whose place I can crash at for a free meal.
“I’m taking the family to Aruba,” Nate says. “We found a beautiful place on the water, and Katrina is bringing her boyfriend.”
“Is she still dating Jeremy Hamilton?” The guy is a twenty-two-year-old, all-star baseball phenom who broke Nolan Ryan’s fastball record. Nate’s daughter Katrina is a wildcat at nineteen.
“Yeah…” Nate looks down at his drink. “He’s a great guy. I really like him, and he seems to center her a little bit.”
I look at Jim, and he shrugs. “I’ll be working. One of my clients leaves this weekend for Aspen, so the family’s coming with me, and we’ll all be there. I’ll spend Thanksgiving Day with them, and we’ve enrolled the kids in ski lessons.”
I snort. “That must have cost you.”
Jim nods. “With twins, it’s like we hemorrhage money.”
“Stella and I are taking the girls home to Oregon,” Gage tells me. “If you want to come up and see Stella’s mom, you’re welcome to join us. She’s looking for her next husband.”
I smirk. “No, thank you.” Guess I’ll have to figure something out on my own. The City is silent during the holidays, and it feels lonely. I suppose I’m invited to either of my parents’ houses, but they each have new families, and I always feel like the odd man out. I did enough of that as a kid.
The guys and I spend an hour or so watching a hockey game and finishing our beers. I catch the bartender looking over our way a couple times, and I consider it. After the rough day I’ve had, I wouldn’t mind a quick lay and a good night’s sleep.
But in the end, I walk home alone from the bar. It’s only about twelve blocks.
I think back to when I met those guys I call my friends for the first time. Their lives have all changed since then, but mine is mostly the same. All three of them were in the FORECON group with me. They were Marines, rather than Navy. Nate was our CO, and he was already married, but the rest of us lived to drink, talk about getting laid, and try to make it another day. I can’t believe they’ve all settled down now.
I open the door to my condo and step into the largely empty living room. I’ve lived here a while now, but I still haven’t invested in furniture. That seems like more of a commitment than I can handle right now. I don’t bring anyone here anyway. I have a television and a chair to sit in to watch it. I’m pretty well covered.
My high-rise condo building is located near Oracle Park, and I can see onto the field from my patio. Baseball games are much better in person, but with eighty-one home games, going to all of them is unrealistic. It’s fun just to listen to the crack of the bat and the crowd cheering. And even in the off season, they keep it busy over there. Tonight, I hear music coming from some band on the field. I’m guessing it’s a private concert because the stands aren’t full.
I sit on my patio and drink another beer with my feet up, enjoying the music. It’s chilly outside, but I grew up in the mountains of Northern California, so my blood is thick.
My mind returns to my many married friends. They all seem to have ended up with kick-ass women. I wonder if they got the last of the good ones…
My phone pings.
Nadine: I’m lonely. Are you in the hospital?
Nope. Not even going to respond. I drain my beer and go inside. My bed is calling me. My phone pings again.
Margaret: We miss you.
She’s sent a photo of her boobs. Beautiful and fake as they are, I’m not going to respond.
Some of the nurses have always been interested in me, but it’s been worse since that stupid article came out last month. Occasionally, I was interested in them, but now, it’s not even fun anymore. I kind of wonder if it ever was… I sigh and pull my shirt over my head. I hate to block women I work with, but I’ll have to if they don’t stop. I can’t report them because I’ve already gone there with both Nadine and Margaret. But my personal credo is that I don’t do revisits. Even if it’s great, I never do it twice. Things just get complicated that way, especially with someone at work.