Rollback

"I get a discount there. And it’s Tuesday night — that’s wing night. Me and a few other grad students meet there every week. Why don’t you come along? You can hang with us until the subway traffic dies down a bit."

"Oh, I don’t want to intrude."

"It’s no intrusion."

"I, um…"

"Think about it. I’m going to have a pee before I head out." She left the office, and Don looked out the little window. In the distance, beyond the campus, he could see gridlocked streets. He reached into the pocket of his shorts, and pulled out his datacom. "Call Sarah," he said to it, and a moment later he heard her saying, "Hello?"

"Hey, hon," he said. "How are you?"

"Fine. Where are you?"

"Actually, down at your old stomping grounds. Just picking up the papers you wanted."

"How was the exhibit at the AGO?"

"Good; I’m glad I saw it. But, listen, I really don’t want to face the rush-hour crush on the subway."

"No, you shouldn’t."

"And Lenore here, and a few other grad students, are going out for chicken wings, and—"

"And my husband loves his wings," Sarah said, and Don could hear the smile in her voice.

"So would you mind if…?"

"No, not at all. In fact, Julie Fein just called. They’ve got theater tickets for tonight, but Howie’s not feeling up to going, so she wanted to know if I wanted to go; I was just about to call you."

"Oh, for sure. Go. What are you going to see?"

"Fiddler on the Roof, at Leah Posluns." Just a few blocks from their home.

Don did a decent Topol impersonation, and he sang a few bars of "If I Were a Rich Man" — he liked any song that properly employed the subjunctive. Then he added, "Have a wonderful time."

"Thanks, dear — and enjoy your wings."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Just as Don was closing up his datacom, Lenore came back into the room. "So, what’s the verdict?" she asked.

"Thanks," he said. "Wings sound great."

When Don and Lenore arrived back at the Duke of York, Lenore’s friends had already shown up. They were seated in a small room to the left on the ground floor, an area Lenore said was called "the snug."

"Hey, everybody," Lenore said, pulling out a captain’s chair and sitting down. "This is my friend Don."

Don took a seat, as well. Two small round tables had been shoved together.

Lenore indicated a lanky Asian man in his twenties. "Don, this is Makoto. And this is Halina" (petite, with brown hair) "and Phyllis" (a blond who looked like she’d be quite tall, if she were standing up).

"Hi, everybody," Don said. "Thanks for letting me join you." A moment later, Gabby, who was still on duty, came by. He listened as she recited what was on draft, and he ordered an Old Sully’s Light, the only low-carb beer on the list.

Lenore immediately dove into the current topic of conversation, something about a guy they knew having gotten into a fight with his girlfriend. Don settled into his chair and tried to get a handle on the personalities. Halina didn’t seem to ever speak, but she had an expressive face that reacted — indeed, overreacted — to whatever the others were saying: eyebrows shooting up, jaw dropping, big smile, bigger frown; she was a living series of emoticons. Phyllis had what seemed to Don to be a juvenile and bawdy sense of humor, and she made liberal use of the F-word. Makoto looked unhappy that Don was there; perhaps he’d been counting on being the only guy with three beautiful women.

Don mostly just listened to the conversation for the next little while, laughing a bit at those jokes he got, and drinking beer. He knew he could have joined in the discussion, but what they were talking about was so trivial, and they seemed to blow their little life crises out of any reasonable proportion: being away from home for the first time, petty social dynamics, and so on. Makoto, Halina, and Phyllis didn’t have a ghost of an idea what it was like to have lived a life, to have raised kids and had a career. Lenore did have interesting things to say, and he paid attention when she was speaking, but when the others were talking he found himself mostly eavesdropping on the middle-age couple at the next table, who were having a spirited discussion about how they thought the Conservative party was going to rout the Liberals in the upcoming election, and—

"Did you see Sarah Halifax on TV last week?" Makoto said to the others. "A fucking corpse walking. She must be like a hundred and ten."

"She’s only eighty-seven," Don said evenly.

" ‘Only,’ " said Makoto, as if repeating a punch line for the benefit of those who might not have heard it.

Lenore spoke up. "Makoto, Don is—"

Don cut her off. "I’m just saying, Sarah Halifax is not that old."

"Yeah, well, she looks like Gollum," said Makoto. "And she must be completely senile."

Halina nodded vigorously but said nothing.

"Why do you say that?" Don said, trying to keep his voice even.