FYI, this is the second to the last episode in the book available for reading by free subscribers or anyone else hanging around here. :)
That is all.
CHAPTER FOUR
I arrived at the pizza place before Nick. The weather was as warm as early May allows, so I snagged a table outdoors. The patio protruded onto a wedge of green space spiked with just-flowering dogwood trees that failed to screen the view of a parking lot.
Nick arrived a few minutes later. His face reflected a somber mood.
“Been a while,” I said. Nick grunted, nodding.
It was rather a relief to simply hang out with a friend without masking. And, in my case, going without a mask was a genuine show of faith that the pandemic might be, finally, on its way out.
I was hardly at death’s door, but my health was plenty compromised, courtesy of a war I once took part in.
While we waited for our meal, I couldn’t help noticing that Nick seemed to be in a particularly rare downcast mood.
“This country,” he said, shaking his head. “Can you believe what’s going on? Kids being gunned down because gun ownership is sacred here? These crazy people who would kill the vice president and call it a patriotic act? I don’t understand.”
“Me, neither.” I really, really didn’t understand either.
Our server, a smiling gal who seemed pretty anxious herself, brought us water. She then took our order and hustled off to the kitchen.
“So,” he said. “How are you holding up?”
Although we’d both finished therapy long ago, Nick and I continued to stay in touch. It was nice to know that the agony of sitting through those painful, long-winded court-ordered chats had at least resulted in a real friendship.
“I’m hanging in there,” I said. “Fortunately, a lot of my work involves computers.” Unfortunately, computers didn’t have all the answers. So, while a lot of my work could be done on a computer, that didn’t mean all of it could or should be.
“Yeah, same here,” Nick said. “Looks like the paper was doing me a favor firing me. There’s been a lot to write about. As long as the internet still functions, I’m sure we’ll all be fine.” I detected a definite hint of snark in that last statement.
We shot the shit for a while about the state of things between trying to eke out a living and wondering what wonders new technology would bring us.
Our pizza arrived. A magnificent caprese of spicy tomato sauce, mozzarella, mushrooms, and basil leaves. The aroma had me salivating.
As we tucked in, I told him about the call from Margaret Wilson.
“I’m supposed to meet her in a few hours. A virtual meeting,” I said. “I’m still trying to figure out how I should feel about this.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asked.
I stopped. What did I mean?
“Well, Heidi did tell me that it concerned an incident that happened while I was deployed. I hope I can be objective.”
Nick’s gaze raked through me. “How would that affect your research?” Ugh. I hated when he decided to play Socrates.
“What if it’s something really bad? What if it’s so bad …” I couldn’t conjure the words. How long would it take before even thinking of the war would stop triggering nightmares during waking hours? Still had those three Oxys hidden away in my medicine cabinet … opioid addiction could sink its claws into me again.
Nick nodded. Out of questions, he shoved a slice of caprese pizza into his mouth.