Old Friends, New Lives
/The sun sank,
lower than my pride,
below the horizon;
a breeze warmed my cheek.
Bud, my friend,
called me over.
He had something to say.
What it was, he wouldn't say.
I knocked.
Music blared.
I knocked harder.
Relief washed over his face
as he turned down the stereo
and let me in.
An evergreen candle flickered
on the pine.
He handed me a cold beer.
We sat over a Redhook.
“You wanted to talk?”
I leaned forward.
He rubbed his face.
“It’s about Margo…”
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“Never been happier.”
He sipped.
“What’s the problem?”
I lit a smoke.
“She’s happy—with someone else,”
he said, his voice cracking.
“It happens,” I said,
patting his shoulder.
He nodded.
Tears threatened.
“I moved on, too.
My secretary’s pregnant.” He laughed.
"Becca," he said. "You know Becca, right?"
I nodded.
"She's..." I had nothing nice to say about her.
"I'm happy for you."
He lit a smoke.
“Can you believe it?"
He puffed. "Me?”
He touched his chest. “A father?”
“Can you blame her?” I said, untwisting a butterscotch. "You ran her off."
He finished his beer.
“I don’t blame her.” He sighed.
"Who, yourself?"
I narrowed one eye.
He gave me a look.
“I couldn't have done it without you.”
I cleared my throat.
“We were going to tell you.
“When she said you put your hands on her wrong, I hated you.”
I finished my smoke.
“We had our fights, and I'm not proud of myself," he said, rubbing his temples. "We grew apart, and I didn't have to snoop through her texts to know she loved you.
I can’t hate you for that.”
“I love you like a brother," I said. "Always will." I caught a tear with my finger. "What now?” I wrapped a hand around my opposite wrist.
He shrugged.
“Now we’re all happy.”
“That’s what matters, Bud.”
“She deserves you,” he said.
“She’s always loved you.
We married because our parents wanted it.”
I stood, hugged him,
and went home.
Headlights swept.
Margo crossed the drive,
entered the house, and kissed me
like never before.
We dusted off our secrets,
and fell for each other
the way we did in middle school.
We married that next autumn.
Bud and his new wife came.
All smiles—
all forgiven.
By Andy Cooper
From: United States
X: AC0040