believe you made it!â
âI came back for this,â she added, keeping hold of my hand. âAnd the parents. And I thought Rick needed cheering up. There he is,â she said, gesturing towards the bar where Ricky was standing.
âIs Ricky happy?â Dawn said. âHe doesnât talk to me about his life anymore. I feel heâs so solitary, so obsessed with work. Is he seeing anyone? Does he have anyone? Is there a guy in his life at all?â
âHe doesnât talk to me much, either,â I said. âHow are you?â
âIâm fine,â she said. âIâm, well, I am what you see,â she added, her tone wry now.
When she married a rich guy who turned out to be an asshole who abused her, Dawn had been an exquisite ambitious girl, a brilliant trader on Wall Street. The creep she had married dealt in illegal immigrants and baby sales, and drugs on a global scale, including Hot Poppy, the worst junk that ever got into the system; Dawn got hooked on it. It was years before anyone picked him up and even then he got off on appeal. I never really felt easy about him being out on the streets.
I had been crazy about Dawn right from the beginning when I first moved into my loft and sometimes we sat out on the fire escape and fooled around. By the time we had a desperate fling in Hong Kong she was strung out on drugs. She got clean, settled over there, quit her job as a high-powered trader, and bought ahouse up on a hill looking out over the water where she raised her adopted kids.
Dawn was probably in her forties but she looked older now: she was stocky and her face was thicker than I remembered and there was gray in her hair. She wore a plain gray silk suit, very severe, very expensive, and flat shoes and big diamonds in her ears. Only her eyes looked like the girl I knew. But I could still smell the Joy she had always worn, that drove me crazy the first time I smelled it at her own wedding. Long long time.
She said, âIâm just like some old Chinese lady now, donât you think? I look at myself in the mirror, I see my Auntie Petal.â
âYou had an aunt named Petal?â
âYeah, they ran out of flowers. It was a fashion, you know, Chinese girls, little flowers, Flower Drum Song, fuck that shit,â Dawn added. âThey were already into weather and stuff when I came along. Dawn. Iâm lucky it wasnât dusk, you know? Or evening. I could have been called Evening. Iâve had too much champagne.â
She saw me looking at her, and she said, âItâs OK, I have a mirror, you know? And I donât care anymore. I really donât care. I donât have to worry about getting old. Itâs a relief.â
âYou look great. You always look great.â
âGive me a cigarette, Artie, honey, Youâre such a liar, and so am I. Actually, it depends. Some days Iâm glad itâs over, sex, men, business. I take care of the kids, I hardly ever go shopping, I read a lot, I listen to music. Iâve fallen in love with opera, weird considering what a rock chick I always wanted to be. So Iâm OK. Itâs just when I seeold friends, when I see you, I hate the way I look, but what the hell, letâs get drunk.â She looked around. âWhereâs a waiter? You know, my Auntie Petal always said everything starts and ends at weddings, maybe it got to Ricky, you getting married, maybe he feels left out, maybe he feels heâll never find anyone, and he never will, you know, because he canât let anyone get close, no man, no woman,â she said. âI should talk. Go celebrate.â
âLetâs have lunch soon. Just us,â I said.
âYes. Of course.â
âDawn?â
âYes?â
âDid you ever know a guy named Sid McKay? Back when? Someone we all knew, maybe, something like that?â
She glanced at her brother. âYeah, I remember him. He was twice Rickyâs age.
Colet Abedi
Chuck Black
Anna Kashina
Danie Ware
Janice Steinberg
C. Michele Dorsey
Laurie Maguire, Emma Smith
Debra Moffitt
Marcia Lynn McClure
Sarah Lark