Jay and I have two shopping carts filled with supplies, racing around the party store like frat boys getting ready for their first kegger, not two grown-ass men planning a surprise birthday party for a forty-year-old. In honor of Ted, we are throwing a 1970’s roller skating party at the skating rink. I have a feeling he’s going to hate it. Or hate that he loves it. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for the latter.

I found an awesome baseball t-shirt, but I’m not very satisfied with my jeans. They have a little flare, but I want some big-ass bell-bottoms. Jay hasn’t picked out his costume yet, so our next stop is the thrift store.

While we’re loading up the back of my brand-new sedan with every single piece of seventies kitsch the store had, and a lot of stuff that isn’t even remotely seventies but that we decided we had to have anyway, plus a crap-ton of balloons, I get an email from the car dealership.

“Hey, can we make a quick stop? My license plates came in and I need to go pick them up.”

At the end of May, I received the most surprising phone call. It was from an unknown number, but I answered my phone on the first ring regardless. When it turned out to be Cameron on the other end, at first I thought he might have gotten my number mixed up with Ted’s.

“Actually, it’s you that I wish to speak to,” he had said. “I was wondering if you are still unhappy with your current work?”

“Unfortunately,” I sighed into the phone. “Everybody treats me like I’m seconds away from either a breakdown or from pulling a fire alarm and accusing someone else of harassment. It hasn’t been easy.”

“Perfect.” I had pulled back and stared at my phone in shock at his rudeness until he continued, “I’d like to hire you. I’ve decided after everything that has happened, I need a change of scenery. I’m starting my own practice in Fort Collins, and I’m going to need an office manager. And after the magic you worked on Dylan’s mess of an accounting system, I think you’d be perfect.”

Apparently when Cameron makes his mind up, then it’s a done deal. Two weeks later, he was set up in a townhouse at the south end of town, no matter how I tried to warn him that the traffic was terrible the farther south he got. It was a fancy new building, with an indoor pool and extensive gym. I could see how he’d be tempted, even if I knew that in a few months he’d be cursing the Harmony Road traffic like a veteran Fort Collins resident.

I worked the first week from his home, at his kitchen table every morning, as we searched for an affordable office building, began the process to get him licensed to practice law in the state of Colorado. Recently, he bought me my “signing bonus.” I had tried to argue against it, but Cameron insisted that I would need a dependable vehicle in order to run errands or trips to the state courthouse in Denver.

As I said, it is very difficult to argue with Cameron, but I still managed to negotiate. He’s taking payments for the vehicle out of my paycheck. With interest. And I’m learning that sometimes it’s okay to get a little help from a friend.

I can’t remember the salesman’s name, but he must have been watching for me because he comes out of a windowed office with plates in hand as soon as Jay and I hit the showroom floor. It takes me a second to realize Jay is no longer beside me, and I turn to find him frozen a few steps back, wide eyes glued to my car salesman.

“You okay, man?” I ask him, and when the salesman sees who I’m talking to, he also freezes in place, leaving me in the middle of a weird standoff where I think both parties are wishing they could be the one who runs away first.

“So, my plates?”

“Right, sorry. I’ll install them for you,” he says, holding up a screwdriver. I turn and take Jay by the arm, leading them both back to my car.

The salesman looks like he could be on the cover of a men’s fitness magazine, about the same height as Jay, but definitely broader and packed with muscles, and normally Jay would be all over that. Instead, he snakes my keys out of my hand and lets himself back in to the passenger side of the car.

The man gets the back plate installed in a flash, but when working on the front plate, his gaze keeps roaming to the man in my front seat. I have to clear my throat three times to spur him on to finish the job. His curt farewell is a drastic departure from the fawning thanks he gave me the first time I drove the vehicle off the lot, and I can’t help but think it has something to do with Jay.

The run-in has subdued my friend enough that even clothes shopping can’t seem to bring him out of his funk.

“What about this one?” I ask, holding up a nasty gold satin shirt with a butterfly collar. Seventies, yes. But even I know it would look horrid with his skin tone.

“Sure,” he says, taking it and draping it over his shoulder before I snatch it back.

“Okay, what is up with you? You almost just agreed to wear the ugliest shirt known to man without even batting an eyelash. That is definitely not like you.”

“It’s nothing. He’s just someone that I used to know.”

“What can I do to get you back in the game? Because you are my party planning guru and I cannot pull this thing off without you,” I say, tossing an olive green leisure suit in his direction.

“I am pretty awesome, aren’t I?” he asks, a little of his usual gleam returning to his eyes.

“The best. And this is the worst,” I say, pointing at the suit.

His eyes sparkle. “But it’s going to look so good on me.”

* * *

Kieran: My car died.

Ted: What? Where are you?

Kieran: Jay and I were able to make it to the skating rink parking lot. I’m going to call for an Uber.

Ted: I’ll come get you.

Kieran: But what about the store? I’ll see if I can get it started.

Ted: I can leave a half hour early. Dave will be fine by himself.

Ted: And don’t try to fix it. Just wait inside and I’ll see what I can do when I get there.

The thing about Ted always needing to save me? It makes it really easy to lure him to his surprise party.

The others have been instructed to park back behind the rink, and I figure we have about five minutes before the birthday boy walks through the doors. All of our friends are here, and friends of friends, and Game Over employees, except Dave who will be coming after closing up. Even Laura’s husband and kids are already out on the floor, skating to the music.

“He’s going to be so pissed at you,” Craig says and signs because Jonathan is next to us in our huddle around the front door.

“No,” Jonathan signs. “He’s going to love it. Once he gets over the surprise and kills you first.”

Jay bolts through the doors and yells, “He’s here!”

About thirty seconds later, Ted enters, his head down and eyes focused on his phone. I know he’s texting me because I feel my back pocket vibrate.

When we yell, “Surprise,” Ted’s head pops up so fast I’m surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash. I’m not sure who shoves me forward, my guess is Ben, but I give Ted a sheepish grin once the shock has worn off enough for him to zero in on me.

“Happy Birthday?”

“Oh my god, I’m going to kill you.”

And at that sentiment, our loving group of friends cheers and pulls Ted farther into the room, dragging him to his party.

Mal, dressed as Cher, and Parker as Sonny, tell Ted hi before rolling off to the rink. Ted follows them and sees Laura and family, who shout a “Happy Birthday” to him as they roll past.

Craig claps Ted on the shoulder, still laughing at his surprised face. “I might be ready to murder Kieran,” Ted tells him with a glare, “But I can still fire you.”

“And on that note,” Zach says, tugging at Craig’s sleeve, “We’re going to skate. Craig promised to teach me.” Zach already has his skates on but is clinging to Craig’s arm like it’s the only thing holding him upright. As Craig leads him to the rink, I wonder who’s going to be hurting the most when this night is through – Zach’s ass or Craig’s arm?

“Sorry I’m not better decked out in celebration,” Ben says, “But you can’t find shit for my size in a thrift store.”

“I could have taken you shopping,” Jay says.

“I’m good,” Ben replies and Jay just shakes his head.

“Party pooper.”

Yeah, I can see why, among other reasons, Ben and Jay did not work out as a couple.

“You too?” Ted signs to Jonathan, who approaches wearing a tie-dye shirt, a bandana headband, and round glasses with green lenses. “I think you’ve got the wrong decade.”

Jonathan waves him off and wraps his arms around Ted, until Ted is forced to reciprocate. “Love you,” Jonathan signs when he pulls back. “I’m going to go find a cute boy to skate with.”

“You aren’t skating?” Ted asks Ben.

“Umm, no. I have too far to fall,” he says and we laugh, because it’s true.

“What’s new with you?” Ted asks. “Are you excited for Craig’s Christmas party?”

Craig has already informed most of us in the group that he’s planning to propose to Zach for Christmas. I think this is Ted’s non-intrusive way of asking if Ben’s okay with it.

“I’m not going to be there,” Ben practically whines. “I have my stupid sister’s wedding and have to go back to Oregon for the damn thing. It’s taking up my whole entire Christmas break. But Craig promised he’d video chat me so that I could watch.”

“Aw, a Christmas wedding. That will be nice. You get along with your family,” I say, because I’ve never heard Ben complain about them, except to say that his little sister is a brat. Which I can totally relate to.

Ben barks out a laugh. “Um, no. They’ll be bugging me about not having a boyfriend the whole time. Darla will gloat about getting married before me. Family members will make snide comments about my inability to keep a man. I’m almost tempted to go the fake boyfriend route, but I don’t know anyone that could do it.”

I don’t know what kind of matchmaking demon comes over me, but I’m hatching a plot that fills me with glee.

“What about Jonathan?”

Ben wrinkles his brow at me like I’m crazy. Which I am. Crazy brilliant. “I don’t know Jonathan well enough to pull it off.”

“But he’s deaf. You won’t have to worry about getting your story straight, because no one is going to ask him.” The more I think about it, the more I’m loving my idea. “I’m serious. I’ve been around Jonathan enough to see how hearing people act around him. They might smile politely and make sure he has everything he needs, but then they get wrapped up in their own conversations and forget he’s even there. You could tell your family you met on the moon, and no one would dare ask or think to contradict Jonathan about it.”

Ben scrubs a hand across his five-o’clock shadow. “Shit, I think my deviousness is rubbing off on you.”

The party progresses, friends come and go, skate and crash, snack and leave. I baked smiley-face vegan cupcakes, and we make Ted blow out a four and a zero candle as we all sing horribly off-key to him. Finally, it’s just us, and in keeping with the seventies theme, I request a slow Billy Joel song from the deejay. I take Ted’s hand in mine as we skate together under a sparkling disco ball.

“I just want you to know you are fulfilling my eight-year-old self’s ultimate romantic moment right now,” Ted says to me. His stride is as steady and sure as I imagine it was back when he worked the skating rink as a teenager. I am not so steady, and although I’m not as bad as Zach, I still need Ted’s hand in mine to keep up.

“Then my job here is done.”

“Oh, I don’t think we’re even close to being done, Kieran Jones,” Ted says as he slows to a stop and pulls me to him, clutching me close when I have a hard time using the toe brake. “I love you so much. Thank you for my party. I was dreading my birthday, but you made it special.”

“Thank you for not killing me.” Ted’s laugh skitters across my lips. “And I love you too. You should always feel special.”

“I always feel special with you.”

We kiss as Billy Joel reminds us of the best kind of love. For me, that means that while sometimes I might need Ted to save me, he needs me too. And I honestly don’t think I will ever want anything more than that. To need each other, just the way we are.