16. NICK

The rain kindly holds off as we take my electric blue 1972 Mustang Mach 1 into town. It’s my favorite ride – it might not be as fast as the ‘Vette, but it’s a cruiser, with loads of legroom. And it’s the first car I ever finished restoring, back in the days when Josef was still willing to get his hands dirty in the garage with me.

I drop Storm at the downtown shops with a wallet full of fifties and a wide grin on her face, then make my way to Murphy’s. Unlike last time, there’s actually a customer in a booth in the corner, talking into a cellphone as he eats his fish and chips.

Finn sets my beer in front of me as I take my seat at the bar.

“Place is jumping,” I say, tilting my glass towards him before taking a long pull.

“Whazzat?” he says. “Can’t hear you over all the noise.”

I chuckle. “Just came in to say thanks for the favor.”

“I should thank you. I made out pretty well. Everything all right?”

“Oh, yeah,” I say. “Shit through a goose.”

Finn takes down a glass from the shelf and pours himself his own draft. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him do that.

“Drinking your profits?”

“My bills are paid for the month,” he says, a little mustache of foam on his upper lip.

“You really did make out pretty well.” So why does that make me uneasy?

“Yep. Whaddaya call it? An embarrassment of riches.”

“Huh.”

He’s telling me the reward for info on the missing woman was substantial, which drives home the point that Arkady wasn’t interested in collecting the 50K Storm owes him. It’s personal. He lost face when she took off on him.

That’s not good. And I didn’t make it any better by mocking him.

Still, he’s Josef’s problem, not mine. Josef knows what will happen if this goes any further.

Finn turns his attention to the ESPN highlights on the little analog TV above the bar. We chat some more about baseball – it’s funny how so many of us become obsessed with it when we come to America – and finish our beers. The guy in the corner is talking animatedly through a mouthful of fish, spraying batter all over the table.

“Rowdy crowd,” I deadpan.

Finn actually cracks a smile of his own and chuckles silently.

“So everything’s okay, Nicky?”

“Right as rain, buddy,” I say, draining my beer. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to see a young lady about a dress.”

“Funny, we used to call it seein’ a man about a horse.”

It’s my turn to chuckle. “I’m serious, Finn. Catch you later.”

“Any time, Nicky. Take care of yourself. And your lady.”

“Always do.”

And your lady. It feels so odd to hear that coming from Finn. Or anyone, for that matter.

Odd, but good.

I see Storm up the street with an armful of bags, chatting with Ellie and her ponytailed husband, an aging ex-hippie named Frank. She catches my eye and motions for me to join her.

“Nick!” Frank hoots as I approach. “Haven’t seen you in a coon’s age!”

“Frank.” I nod. “Ellie. Good to see you.”

Ellie’s eyes go round.

“That’s the most he’s said in one sitting since Christmas,” she says with mock shock.

“You know, I could just as easily uninvite you,” I say.

Frank puts a hand on my arm. “Please don’t,” he pleads. “It’s Ellie’s turn to cook that night.”

The three of us laugh, but Storm doesn’t get the joke.

“Frank does all the cooking for the deli,” Ellie says. “Even though it’s my name on the door. Ellie’s Deli just had a ring to it. I take care of the business side of things, but when it comes to cooking, I’m hopeless.”

Storm grins. “I can burn water, so I hear you.”

“Storm here says you’ve been cooking for her,” Frank says. “What can we expect on Friday? Some Russian delicacy? What can we bring?”

“Wine would be great,” says Storm.

I look at her, eyebrows raised. She looks back, confused, then suddenly gets it. She gives me an exasperated nod. Yes, I’m over 21, it says.

I should have known. She worked in a bar.

“Perfect,” says Ellie. “We’re picking up Ramona and Greg, and Louis said he’d meet us at your place. He’s not sure if Chad can get off work in time for dinner, but he’ll try.”

Suddenly my guts are in knots: this dinner party is becoming real. Everything I’ve accomplished in my life – not all of it good, but none of it easy – and here I am, nervous about six people coming to my house that’s big enough for all of them to live in without me even knowing they’re there.

“Seven o’clock sound good?” Storm asks.

“See you then,” Ellie says with a wave as she heads back into the deli.

“You ever going to sell me that beauty, Nick?” asks Frank, pointing across the street to where the Mach 1 is parked.

“Sorry, Frank, the answer’s never going to change. She’s my baby.”

Storm, who’s been rooting through one of her shopping bags, suddenly stops and looks up, startled.

“What?” she yelps.

“I was talking about the car.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “Okay then.”

Frank gives me an “oh, shit” look. “On that note, I’ll get back to work. See you folks on Friday.”

Storm waves. “See you then. Nice to meet you!”

“Did you get what you needed?” I ask as Frank disappears into the deli.

“I’ll show you at home,” she says with a leer.

Home. I’m glad she thinks of it that way. We took a real step forward today, opening up the way we did. Arkady was the last stumbling block between us, and now that’s gone.

If you’d told me two weeks ago that I’d be standing downtown with a gorgeous blonde who’s half my age calling my house home, planning a fucking dinner party, of all things, I would have shook my head at you and walked away.

Now I can’t wait to get her home and see her dress.

A thought suddenly flits through my mind like a butterfly. Katrina, are you watching from where you are? Do you approve?

Something tells me she does.