“Kelly wants you to make sure I behave in front of Stanley,” Matthew said to Diane.
“Don’t worry, Kelly,” she said loudly. “He’s on a short leash.”
“Great,” Kelly said in Matthew’s ear. There was a pause.
Being best friends with someone since childhood gives one certain superpowers when it comes to said best friend. Such things as the strength to raise them up when they’ve been knocked down. Conjuring up the right joke to make them laugh, even when you know it’s the last thing they feel like doing. X-ray vision that tells you their heart is broken. Another helpful best friend superpower is the ability to read their minds, a sixth sense that tells you when something isn’t “all-the-way right,” as his grandfather would say. And best friends want each other “all-the-way right.” Every day. Every goddamn minute.
“What?” Matthew said, probing. Diane’s smile flickered, her brown eyes darted to him, then back to the road.
“It’s nothing,” Kelly sighed, morose now.
“Oh, okay, great,” Matthew replied, sarcastically chipper. “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye!” Kelly said nothing for a moment. Matthew knew the fact he was not scolding him was a bad sign.
So he waited.
“Listen, let’s talk when I’m there, okay?” he said finally, quietly. Too quiet for Kelly.
“Dude,” Matthew said, a little alarmed now. “What’s up? You’re freaking me out.”
“You freak out far too easily, Matthew,” Kelly replied, but Matthew noticed his heart wasn’t in it. “Look, so you won’t make Diane crazy, it’s just... god, I really like Stan. Like, not the usual Kelly crushes I used to have in college, the ones that end in ambivalence and heartbreak for the poor sod I fell out of crush with, or whatever, but like a real deep thing.” He paused again. “God, I sound stupid.”
“No,” Matthew said quickly. “No, man, you don’t. I get you. It’s good, Kelly. You should think of it as a positive. I mean, shit dude, real feelings? That’s pretty sweet, right?” He looked to Diane, smiled. “Our little boy is growing up. Puttin’ on big boy pants.”
Matthew could feel Kelly smiling on the other end of the line, and knew he had him right where he wanted him. “I’m proud of you, brother. Whether this works out or not, it must feel good to know you’ve got it in you to really care about someone. How cool is that?”
“Very cool,” Kelly said quietly.
“Okay then.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Thanks.”
“It’s the sole reason of my existence, to be there for you. You know that.”
“Good lord,” Kelly said, sniffing now, and Matthew could see him wiping his face in that weird way he had, with just the pads of his hands. “You’re really going for it.”
Matthew laughed, missing him so much right then his heart hurt. “Listen, we’re getting up there in them thar hills, and Diane’s driving like a bat out of hell. Likely gonna lose you. You good?”
“Yes, god, I’m fine.” Kelly sniffed loudly one final time, and when his voice returned, it was stronger. “So, do we need to bring anything or what? I don’t want to sit around all weekend drinking your cheap... if that’s...”
“Kelly?” Matthew said, unreasonably alarmed. Hearing the struggle to keep reception, Diane slowed the car a bit. “Kelly?” he repeated, straining to hear. “I’m losing you.”
“Yeah, whatever, we’ll bring booze!” Kelly yelled loudly, as if that would help the connection. “Kiss Diane for me, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Excited to... big... ay...”
“Can’t hear you dude. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good... Matthew, I...”
There was a crackle, and the connection cut out.
They arrived at the cabin a few hours later. Snow covered the ground all around it, and the tall crimson planks of its exterior were a broad red stain against the stark white in which it hunkered. Hollow black windows watched them approach, the worn second-story deck, facing West for best views of the sea and sunsets, jutted toward them like a defiant chin.
Once inside, Matthew built a large fire and the young couple relished a night of sitting near the warm blaze. Outside, the clouds dumped a couple more feet of snow, enclosing them in nature’s dark wet bosom, where they twined and used each other for warmth, sheltered and safe.
She’d made him dance. He remembered that so vividly. They had spun in front of the fire, a Benny Goodman swing record spinning on his grandfather’s RCA Victor, the frayed cabinet speakers laying out the bouncing, whipping horns and rumbling drums while they did their best not to stomp each other in their semi-drunken attempt at never-before-used dance moves.
Later that night Diane conceived. In the thousand days since, they’d gone over it time and time again, but the math worked out the same each time. Matthew wished it were not the case, and tried to see grace in the timing, but all he could feel was guilt, as if this new life was a betrayal, one that would haunt him forever.
MATTHEW WOKE TO the metallic shrilling of the cabin’s analog phone. He hadn’t heard an honest-to-god phone ringing in so long that at first he thought it was a fire alarm. He sat up quickly, looked around, took a beat to remember where he was. He looked down at Diane, who looked around sleepily, also caught in that daze of being somewhere unfamiliar when woken suddenly.
He got out of bed, wincing at the frigid air attacking his naked body. The floors were bare wood but for a few large Southwestern-style rugs. He looked for something to cover himself with, then, knowing time was an issue, shook his head and walked briskly to the dining room, his flesh covered in goosebumps, his arms crisscrossed around his thin torso, his teeth literally chattering. He smelled the old smoke from last night’s fire, and decided they’d use the central heating today and keep the fire for romance purposes, because there was cold and then there was fucking cold.
He made it to the phone on the third ring, instinctively reached for it, then stopped. He was sideswiped with a realization that sickened him to his absolute core. His hand actually paused above the green rotary phone, hovering, trembling inches from the receiver as the bell inside the antiquated contraption pealed like devil’s wings.
Only one other person had this number. His grandfather. This was his place, and the phone was kept alive because there was no cell reception. Matthew had time to think, why the hell is my grandfather calling me... he looked at the digital clock over the stove... at 6:45 in the morning?
Out of time, he picked up, said “Hello,” and listened to his grandfather’s calm voice explain to him the manner in which his best friend had been killed.
In slow, gentle terms, he told Matthew how it had been the other guy’s fault, a truck driver cutting a turn on a particularly nasty switchback. Kelly’s car had driven straight into the rear wheels, which had drifted far into the oncoming lane, at forty miles an hour. He and his “friend” – as my grandfather put it – were both killed instantly. Coming around the turn like that, he had said, they probably never had time to register what was happening. Then it was over.
Matthew didn’t remember the next few hours of his life, and it never came back. Those few hours, the ones where he had screamed, and cried, and slumped down to the floor, hugging himself. Diane had held him while she also cried and soothed him in that frozen cabin, where they thought with such cleverness they had hidden from the horror of the world, and been proved wrong.
A month or so later, Diane found out she was pregnant, and it helped him think forward instead of back. Slowly, he crawled out from under his depression. He started looking for work, started thinking about the big picture of their lives. They decided to name the baby Kelly, regardless of gender.
They were married on Catalina island. Matthew’s grandfather was his only family and only guest, but Diane’s large clan made up for it, bringing an air of vibrancy and joy to the event, filling the seats on both sides of the aisle.
