-A Lie
I decided to focus on family, choosing to believe-and have faith-that everything else would fall into place. I wasn't comfortable-or good-at lying to her.
So, when Samantha surprised me one day by swallowing her pride and asking directly if a...
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I remember the words spoken by my oldest son Josh after he had met Nina for the first time. It was during a school break, and he had just returned home from a week-long vacation spent with a neighborhood friend's family. He knew that his mother was away on a business trip, brothers gone too, staying with family, and was surprised after he had entered the house to find his father in the company of an unknown woman.
That weekend had started with a planned visit from a close friend. Josh's nickname for Ethan was "Shack," a reference to Shaquille O'Neal, the infamous Lakers' former all-star center, and a label given to Ethan years earlier after he had easily overpowered Josh while the three of us played basketball in the front yard. It was a nickname that anyone knowing Ethan, who is a 6' tall white Jewish man, would have found comical.
Ethan and I belonged to the same group of friends during high school, from which a few of us regrouped years later to be college roommates. He and his wife Raya lived in Dover, and he stayed overnight at my house during the weekend visit. I love the comfort of having decades-long friendships that span the years back to when teenagers. No matter our current ages, when together, it's as if no time has passed.
That weekend was no different. During the afternoon, we took the road that led from the house and down to the Neponset River, where we rode along the miles of bike trail. That evening we dined at Jake n JOES Sports Grille. We found it hard to hear over the noise made by the rowdy crowd that had gathered. They loudly cheered on their drunken friends as one after another each was thrown from the back of a mechanical bull. I assumed it was a gimmick that my friend Jake, the owner, was counting on to make a comeback like the trend that occurred after the release of the 1980s film "The Urban Cowboy," and featured back then much younger actors John Travolta and Debra Winger.
We returned to the house and indulged in a favorite pastime from our youth, getting stoned. It was before State law had passed that made the personal use of marijuana legal. Ethan obtained it legally though, thanks to his recently acquired prescription, albeit for the treatment of a questionable ailment, and we smoked it from a bong that he had kept since college. We watched old reruns of the Dave Chappelle Show and enjoyed bouts of unhindered laughter that occurs when high and among friends. In the morning, we both suffered from hangovers, and Ethan nursed a pulled muscle that resulted from our chemically induced laughter the night before.
We showered and then left for the restaurant. Earlier that week, I had arranged accommodations for Sunday brunch. A fellow classmate of Nina's and mine worked at a local pub, where a standing invitation existed. Nina overheard the making of plans and expressed her interest. I invited her to join us, and she agreed to meet us there.
The awkwardness of the moment, as the three of us ate our meals, never completely subsided. We engaged in polite conversation, and Ethan exhausted his list of questions regarding the court reporting field. Nina answered the questions with a clarity that had likely been missing in earlier discussions between him and me. If Ethan had suspicions over the nature of Nina and my relationship, it remained unspoken during the twenty-minute drive back to the house. I invited Nina to follow us from the restaurant and nervously glanced from the rearview mirror to the traffic ahead. I was proud of our house and have to admit that I wanted to impress her.
