“So . . .” he said. “How’s it going with Daisy? Did you have a chance to talk to her?”
“Yeah,” I said. I’d draw this out for a little while.
Those hopeful eyes brightened. “You did? What’d she say? How’d it go?”
“It went all right.”
“It did? What did you say to her? Really, more importantly, what did she say to you?”
A whole lot of shit you don’t want to know. I took a deep breath.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, man,” I said (or more accurately, deflate your dick), “but I just don’t think she’s ready for that sort of thing right now.”
Jonathan pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. “That makes sense,” he said, frowning. “That’s kind of the impression I was getting from her. I guess I really should learn to trust my instincts more.”
“Absolutely. Don’t take it too hard, man. There’s plenty of other girls out there, you know.”
“I know.” He looked disappointed. “It’s just . . . I really liked her.”
“That’s understandable,” I said, nodding sympathetically, “she’s a good person. But then again, so are you. So you’re bound to find someone that will be a good match. I just know it.”
And the thing was, he would. He might not realize it at the moment, but I sure as hell did. Things just always worked out for Jonathan, one way or another.
Not that you’d know it with that forlorn expression he had on his face at the moment, like he’d just walked in on me drowning his favorite puppy or something. Come on, dude, I thought. You are worse than a lovestruck teenage girl! I went over and clapped him on the shoulder, gave him my best expression of brotherly solidarity.
“Did she seem really . . . traumatized?” he asked.
“What—about the idea of you be interested in her?”
“No! You didn’t tell her that, did you?”
“I didn’t.”
“No, I meant by the whole thing with her stalker. Do you think that has made it so she’s never going to want to get involved with anyone ever again?”
“It’s hard to say. I did find out one thing, though . . .” I paused, letting the tension draw out. Jonathan looked at me hopefully. “She’s a virgin. Which doesn’t really coalesce with the notion that she's a freak in bed, now, does it? Remember how you told me that?”
“Yeah,” he said, his face reddening. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t know if she was, or that she was a virgin. I just thought if I told you that, you might be more apt to hire her, you know . . . since the whole thing with Annie and all.” He looked down at his shoes. “But I’m really sorry, man. That wasn’t cool for me to make shit up like that.”
“It wasn’t,” I said, cringing inwardly at the mention of Annie’s name. I’d managed to forget about her for a whole five minutes, and that had felt fucking wonderful, believe me. Why couldn’t Jonathan have a crush on Annie? Why couldn’t he be interested in her? He was the type of guy who would certainly step up and raise another man’s kid if said child was the offspring of the woman he adored.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to run; don’t want to be late seeing Pete.”
“Sure,” Jonathan said. He gave me a closer look. “It surprises me sometimes that you still go see him like this.”
“Does it?”
“Well . . . yeah. He was so awful to you. But I think that says a lot about you, that not only have you been able to forgive him
and move past it, but you’re willing to go see him every week. I know some people whose parents ended up in a nursing home and they never go see them, and they’re not even on bad terms. So, yeah.” Jonathan nodded, smiling. “I think that’s pretty cool that you’re able to do that. And hey, thanks for talking to Daisy for me. I know it was kind of lame that I couldn’t just handle it myself, but . . .” He let the sentence die off. He shrugged his shoulders.
“Don’t even mention it, man,” I said. I held my hand out and we slapped fives, and then I was off to go visit Pete.
This time, when I got to Eagle Hollow and parked, I looked up at the window and saw Pete parked there in his wheelchair, staring straight at me. For the briefest of moments, I experienced this strange longing to trade places with Pete; to be the one living in some facility, all of my needs taken care of, nothing to do all day but stare out a window, or better yet, stare at the nurses’ asses and down their shirts when they delivered the meal trays. Sure, I might not be able to speak, and I’d probably be shitting in a bed pan, but I at least wouldn’t have to deal with this whole problem that Annie had just brought to my attention. Of course, I snapped myself out of that reverie quickly; no fucking way did I want to be like Pete. I raised a hand and waved, then started to walk toward the building, running my hand over the Camaro’s hood as I went past. Inside, it was the same routine as it always was: there was Wendy, big smile on her face, giving me the hungry bedroom eyes.
“Whatever you said to Pete really seemed to help,” she said. “He seemed must less agitated after you left.”
“That’s great,” I replied, wondering if she was just telling me this because she thought it was what I wanted to hear, or because it was actually true. It seemed a little odd that he would find comfort in what I had said to him; I preferred to think that he had finally just given up. “I’ll do my best to continue to bolster his spirits,” I said.