A Pact For Life (33 page)

“Diana? Are you okay?” Andrew asked and squeezed her tighter.

“Oops, I'm sorry. What were you saying?”

“I asked if you'd like to do something Sunday in case Saturday night falls through?”

“No, Sunday's no good. One of the senior partners needs me for support on a case he has on Monday.” Diana purposefully left out the partner's name on the off chance it would have the same trigger effect on Andrew. The last thing she wanted was for him to think about his ex-wife.

Naked and full-bellied and beautiful in only a way a pregnant woman can be, Diana stood up and grabbed their phones off the dresser. Tossing Andrew his Blackberry, she said, “Here, let's compare schedules for next week.”

And that's how they spent the rest of the night. Comparing calendars on cell phones to try and find a night they were both free. It was something typical of the
Professional Relationship of Professionals.

A Collection Of Cale Dawkins' Quotes From The First Three Stops Of The Tall Saints Bar
Crawl

1.) “Out of every girl I've ever met that I wished wasn't a lesbian, you're like the five-hundredth.”

2.) “Why do they call it a clam when everyone knows it's closer to a mussel?”

3.) “Sir, you're as intellectually sound as you're physically round.”

4.) “I feel like I just got off the world's biggest roller coaster where every seat had a dildo facing up!”

5.) Jess's friend: “Jess loves to fuck!”

   Cale: “I hear that's in now.”

6.) “I like my coffee like I like my women, warm to the touch and willing to be drunk.”

7.) Jess: “I need to get laid.”

   Cale: “Well if you're drafting, I'm over eighteen.”

Bar #3 was over, and the Tall Saints – the three founders along with a gaggle of stragglers were headed to bar #4. The gray shirted emcee was back in charge and leading the group with a wild, reckless roar.

Over the heads of the Tall Saints hovered a haze that followed them through the tree-canopied streets of Denver's Cap Hill neighborhood. It was a combination of the fallout from cigarettes, pipes, laughter, and gushing conversations.

Over the course of the night, Cale had accumulated pockets full of ladies' numbers that he had no intention of calling. The possibility of having any type of meaningful relationship with a girl was just too much to stomach, especially since his stomach was filled with gin.

As Cale walked with his arm around a black girl whose name he forgot before she even finished telling him, he heard from behind, “Hey Cale, hold up for a second.”

Nick, who was at the back of the group was the one who called out to him.

At Cale's solo arrival, Nick asked, “Good bar crawl, eh?”

“Yeah man, this has been great!” Cale said as he lit a cigarette with his bandaged hand.

“Um, can I ask you something.” Nick said as the sound of his cane echoed off the nearby high rise apartments. They had slowed down enough that the Tall Saints were nowhere in sight, but their boisterousness served as a beacon in the darkness.

With the cigarette in his mouth, Cale garbled out, “Sure.”

“Are you okay? I mean, with Diana and everything?”

“Of course. I'm fine. This was the best thing to ever happen to me. You think I would've made a good father? All Diana wanted was a kid, and she's got it now. We would've never lasted.”

Nick gripped his cane tighter. He knew Cale was lying, but he was a typical guy and as such, his ability to help a friend in mourning was limited to asking a question of, “everything okay” and an offer to get a drink/keep drinking.

“Cool, I just wanted to check. How about some shots at the next bar?”

Cale, wrapped his arms around Nick's waist, picked him up, and said, “Excellent! Here, I got you.”

“What are you doing!?” Nick yelled as Cale carried him down the street.

“I'm helping your slow ass along so we can catch up to the group. Don't worry, I won't embarrass you. I'll let you down just before we get to them.”

Nick sighed and gave in to such a demeaning act. There's no use in trying to reason with a drunk when shots are involved.

As he floated down the street, Nick asked his carrier, “Remember a couple months ago when you asked me and Brian about why we don't care for relationships?”

“Uh-huh. Whew, I need a break.” Cale huffed as he rounded a corner, let Nick down, and took a drag from his cigarette.

“After I got hit by that car, I was lying in the hospital depressed about, well, being crippled for the rest of my life. My family said to look on the bright side, I could've died, and the settlement would make me financially stable for the rest of my life, but you can't put a price on your mobility. It was the second or third day in there, I don't remember which exactly, but I was on so much morphine that I started to hear voices, and they implanted this idea in my head. You know how you like to talk to God like he's really there?”

“He is, he just doesn't answer.”

“Well, this voice told me that if I truly wanted to be happy, then I needed to know God, and the way to do that is by learning as much as I can about everything. The more I learn about things like the French Revolution, Schrödinger's Cat, the third season of
Seinfeld
, Paul the Apostle, Kurt Vonnegut, and millions of other things, the closer I get to God. That's my real relationship, you know, the journey of getting closer and closer to Him.”

“How does the third season of
Seinfeld
bring you closer to God?”

Nick laughed as he hobbled alongside Cale, “It all combines with one another to create this giant ball of knowledge. You start to see things in a different light.”

With the next bar in sight and the Tall Saints hanging out in front, Cale only heard half of what Nick said. The words came in, briefly lingered, and moved right back out. The gray-shirted emcee was on a mission, and nothing would stop him. Except maybe a pretty face or two.

One bar later, Cale was staring down a blond highlighted brunette who for the sake of convenience will be known as BHB.

She, as in a singular person, appeared as plural to Cale. He had been in this situation enough times to know it was double vision, and as such, had a line prepared for the occasion. “You and your twin sister are gorgeous.”

“Haha, that's pretty funny, Caley,” BHB responded with a sheepish smile and a pet name. “Say, would you like to go out sometime? Like on a date?”

Cale finished his gin and juice and asked, “Let me ask you this, do you believe in true love?”

“What?”

“True love. Do you believe there is someone for everyone out there and the challenge in life is to try and find them?”

“Umm...” BHB laughed at the randomness of this question. “Sure. I think everyone has a soul mate.”

“And do you think I could be that person?”

“Geez, I don't know?” BHB couldn't have answered this. There are questions with answers and questions without answers. This was a question both with and without an answer. And neither could be said out loud. She'd looked crazy and desperate if she said yes, but would push him away if she said no.

As BHB thought about this, Cale said, “Isn't that required for true love? That instant feeling that this is The One? If you aren't sure, then why should we waste our time and energy dating? We should stay like we are now. You know, still be friends and maybe the occasional sex? But don't waste your relationship energy and faith on me. Save it for when you find The One because honestly, you aren't The One for me.”

Ironically, BHB was The One for Cale. She was easygoing, liked to party, responsible, would've taken care of him, was serious when she needed to be, but playful at every other opportunity. This was just the wrong time and wrong place for the right love.

Incredulously, BHB asked, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, but we can still do it if you want.”

BHB laughed out loud, and stayed seated next to Cale. She really would've been perfect for him.

Cale was flat on his back in the middle of what was once again his warehouse studio apartment. The Tall Saints Bar Crawl was at its last stop and only the three original members remained. Nick and Brian had returned to sobriety while Cale continued the party. On the floor next to him was a glass they thought was water, but they were wrong.

“Well congrats, Cale,” Brian said as he opened the door and looked out. “The sky's getting lighter. We bar crawled through the night.”

For Cale, the room was spinning, Brian and Nick were spinning, and overall his night had turned into one big centrifuge. In a coherence that masked how drunk he really was, he said, “I never thought being dumped for someone else would feel this shitty.”

Brian and Nick looked at each other in dismay. Neither spoke, they wanted Cale to continue on.

“Isn't this the type of thing you are supposed to see coming?” Cale asked and took a drink. Due to his position on the floor, only half of it got in his mouth.