“Hey, boss.” Jake says, swooping me up for a hug.

“Hey, hey.”

“Hard weekend, huh?” He asks, pointing down the street to the coffee place.

“Yeah.” I follow him, noticing his converse are a nice warm gray, “Sorry for crazy-emailing last night. Up late having thoughts.”

“Don’t be silly. I LOVED your emails. Had no time to address your thoughts, I’m sorry.” Jake says, “So: Dean and Jess’s wedding?”

“Yeah.”

“Nick was there, right? With Sandy?” Jake knows everything and everyone.

“Yeah.” I say.

“Nick said there was a 9-course meal? Momofuku? Damn.” Jake certainly knows Nick, who is my Ex and Jake’s good friend from college. Once you know one St. Johns Annapolis alum, you know a hundred.

“Yeah, it was beautiful.” I say, “Incredible food. They cleared out Milk , so we had the whole shop to ourselves, eating under the glow of Milk’s pink neon sign. Dean gave the best speech ever. They were adorable. Nick loves her so so much. Also, I cried.”

“I haven’t even been to Momofuku. Everyone raves. I do enjoy cereal milk. But also it’s ridiculous.” Cereal milk is ridiculous. It’s what Milk serves by the glass. They make your basic cereal and milk, toss the cereal and sell the milk.

“Childhood in a glass,” I say. Jake is in line for caffeine, deciding on what to order, asking the barista a lot of questions. He snorts. “True story.” He says. I’m standing on his left reading my horoscope, which is taped down on the counter. It says something about reigning in my personality, which is what it always advises in some way to another. If you’re as bossy as you want to be it won’t get you anywhere this week or you’ll be itching to buy something totally unnecessary and frivolous – don’t do it, or whichever direction you move in, take it slowly, etc etc etc.

“Like: wedding cried?” Jake asks, handing the barista a five.

“Like I just moved back from Philly and I’m alone and Dean and Jess are getting married and Nick is engaged to Sandy. Reminder Jake, Sandy the first girl he met after we broke up, which is fine, it’s totally fine, that’s great for him, I’m happy he’s happy, he deserves it, good human being, and also: Really? Seriously? The first girl? And also: Why not me? Also: Fine. I get it. Nothing to do with me.” I say. “So: No?”

“Yikes….Yeah.”

“Okay, so”

“—Hold on.“ Jake hands me his coffee and bends to ties his cool gray colored shoe, gestures toward the McCarran park loop.

“Yeah, cool.” I say, hand him back his coffee and follow.

“Okay, go.”

“So.” I say, “this is not Dean and Jess’s fault or anything, obviously, I don’t have to even say that, I mean, I’m so grateful I was included in their wedding, I’m totally not complaining, but.”

“But.”

“Okay, but Nick and Sandy were sat next to Dean and Jess,” I say “and you know Nick only knows Dean because Nick and I were dating. Like, that’s why Nick knows Dean. One of my best friends getting married, my ex, sitting at the table with him. Which of course doesn’t matter. I mean who cares who sits next to who? We’re all lucky to be part of this thing, I know.”

“Right.” Jake says. “So, I gather you are not seated at the main table. Wait. Did you bring a date?”

“No date.”

“Shit.” Jake says.

“There were spots for 20 people total or something, I mean Dean and Jess shut down Milk to have a 9-course meal catered by Momofuku. Must have been a fortune. They had only family and closest friends, no other people, no dates. I get it. I get it. It sucks.,” I say, “But.”

“Right. Yeah. Okay, so where are you seated?” Jake asks.

“Yeah, okay, so because the way the tables are laid out, I’m sitting with my back to the main table that holds my very very very very — did I mention he was the first person I met in New York City when I knew no other soul here? — very dear friend Dean and his now-wife whom I love dearly, and my ex, and my ex’s fiancé. My back to the table with all my people.”

“Boss….” Jake looks down, shaking his head. I love that he doesn’t try to make it better or give me some upside. That the air just sits between us.

“Okay,” I say, “So granted as soon as I walked in the door, Dean accosts me to say he was how totally sorry he is about this set up, it wasn’t what he had planned, and he got to Milk and they told him it was the only way to fit the tables. He’d just found out himself. He felt awful.” 

“Right.”

“So you have a basic picture of the layout here, yeah?” I ask.

“Yeah, I think so. Wedding table behind you with everyone you know? No date.” Jake says. “Wait – do you know anyone else there?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah, so all known humans behind me and across from me, for a 9-course, 4-hour meal , which was, in fact, amazing —“

“—Right.”

“— Is a blind guy.”

“Holy hell. This is kinda hilarious, E-dog. I mean, I’m sorry.” Jake runs his fingers through his hair. “Sucks, E. Also: fun-ny.”

“I know. Yeah. He was a really nice blind guy, too.” I laugh. “Wore these crazy-thick glasses because I guess he can see general shapes? Maybe color or something? But he definitely can’t see me. Which is fine because I hated my dress and felt fat.”

“Hilarious, e.” Jake says, tossing his empty coffee into the green trash can, “Also you’re not fat.”

“Now, yes, funny.” I concede. “At the time… Okay, still semi-funny. Anyway, I spend four hours describing what’s on the little plates in front of us, pretty badly I’m sure since I’m not a foodie at all. Poor blind guy. And trying to make conversation while I hear Nick, loud-as-hell, you know how he is, laughing away with my friends.”

“Aw.” Jake gives me a sad face and a half-hug.

I rest my head on his shoulder. “…also Dean’s friend, I know I don’t own friendship here. It’s great they became friends, I know. It’s just a lot all at once. Marriage, engagements, physical locations, and proximity of important things. Sandy looked amazing, as usual. Skinny.”

“She is pretty,” Jake says. “Also you’re not fat.”

I heart Jake for not, but kinda, babysitting me. “So, I went outside and called my sister but she wasn’t there. And I started crying. And some guy from the wedding party swaggers up, smoking a cigar, and I say: ‘Oh, I’m just so happy for those two!’ you know—“

“—To explain the tears.”

“Yeah, to explain the tears so I don’t look like a psycho.”