I pull up to Marty’s home, and I feel so jealous. It’s in this nice gated community; sure, it’s nothing like the mansion I had lived in, but it’s still a pretty awesome set up. I wonder if this is how Tyler always felt when he would come hang out with us? It’s probably just me. I can be really petty at times. I haven’t been to Marty’s in a while, but I’m so ready to spend an evening somewhere other than Tyler’s sketchy neighborhood.

Tyler and I pile out of the pink Volkswagen and walk up the cobblestone driveway. The front door opens up into this nice courtyard with a miniature vineyard-looking décor. “Whazzup, fellas?” Marty calls out when he opens the door and immediately hands Tyler a beer. Assholes know I’m trying to get sober…

I can smell the ribs he’s got on the grill, and my stomach growls. “I’m starving,” I say as Marty leads us into the courtyard where he’s grilling out.

“Hey, you want a soda or a water or something?” he asks me while taking a swig of his beer.

No, dipshit, I want a damn beer. I smile, “Yeah, I could go for a soda.”

He disappears inside for a minute and returns with a Coke. Tyler is already on his second beer before Marty returns, and I feel like punching him in the back of the head. Marty’s girlfriend is out of town for the week; some friend of hers is getting married. It struck me as odd that Marty wasn’t going with her, but apparently there had been a no date rule for this tiny little shindig in the mountains. There was only about five or six people outside of family who had been invited to the private event, so Marty had gotten the boot. Marty, the social butterfly, can’t stand to spend an evening by himself –so he had invited Tyler and me over for a cookout.

I won’t complain. Tyler and I have been eating nothing but pizza and peanut butter sandwiches all week. An old fashion grill-out is just what I need right now. “So your girl really didn’t take you to the wedding?” I ask as I sip on my stupid ass soda. “You sure she’s not lying to you and just didn’t want to embarrass herself when she showed up with you as a date?”

“Shut up, man,” he says, but he laughs. He looks at Tyler, “heard you’re recently single.”

“Yeah, thank God,” he says, “Why didn’t either of you tell me that girl was crazy?”

“Would you have listened?” Marty asks.

“She put out.”

“So no, then?” Marty laughs; I wonder how much he had to drink before we got here?

I shake my head as I listen to the two of them go back and forth. Eventually I am able to steer the conversation away from their girlfriends or lack thereof; I bring up the gym. “So,” I say, “the boss is having me set up this fundraiser for the Battered Women’s House. We’re going to be teaching some self-defense courses. The thing is, I need some trainers willing to volunteer their time-”

“Awe, hell, man,” Marty groans, “you serious?”

“He’s already got me coming to speak at his seminar,” Tyler gives Marty a friendly punch in the arm, “wouldn’t this be good publicity for you anyways? Your manager was telling you to get involved in something. Boxer have got a rep for being abusive, so raising money for the Battered Women’s House will surely keep you out of that category.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. Would something like this help my image too? I shake the thought away –that’s not why I’m doing it. I think of Gabriella, and it makes me sick to my stomach. “I need trainers,” I say again. “Between the three of us, we could manage the crowds because we’ll be offering all day courses.”

“All day?” Marty whines.

“Quit being a bitch, Marty,” Tyler says, “although, it probably wouldn’t hurt if you could find some more people to help. He’s talking about a pretty big event. He’s got to talk to the city about shutting down roads for a marathon run.”

“All right, all right, fine,” Marty says, “I suppose I can spare an afternoon.” Marty starts coating the ribs in another layer of sauce, and my mouth salivates. “So what’s new with you, Jonathan, other than working at a lady gym?”

I pause. I have something kind of serious to talk to them about. I pull out my phone. I had been waiting to tell Tyler until I could get him and Marty in a room at the same time; I didn’t want to have this conversation twice. I pull up the picture of the ultrasound. “Brandi’s pregnant,” I say, and they both look at me with serious expressions, “She’s pregnant, and she doesn’t know I know.”

“Awe… man, shit,” Marty says.

I show them the ultrasound picture. “Hey, look at the little fist! He’s holding up his fists like a little boxer!” Tyler laughs and holds up both his fists, imitating the photo.

“I don’t know if it’s a boy or girl,” I say. “I just know she’s pregnant and that she doesn’t want me to know.”

“That’s just wrong,” Marty seethes.

“You’re telling me,” I say, “I’m going to be a father, and Brandi doesn’t want me to have anything to do with the kid. And after what happened, I can’t really say I blame her. Should I hire a lawyer? Would a judge even let me see my kid right now?”

“You have to get your act together,” Tyler steps in as the voice of reason. “I don’t mean to sound cruel, man, but if you try fighting a custody battle now, you’re going to lose, and you’re just going to piss Brandi off even more. You and I both know if I offered you this beer right now you’d take it and then you’d keep drinking until you passed out on Marty’s lawn. You’ve got a problem… plus you’re still living on my couch. That won’t look good either –we live in the slums. And you’ve only had your job for a little over a month now.”

Marty shoves Tyler to tell him to shut up, but the truth is I need to hear it. He’s right. I have got to get my shit together if I’m ever going to convince Brandi (and a judge) that I could be a good father. “Well, either way,” Marty says, “congratulations. It’s not the ideal circumstance, but you’re going to be a father, and that’s worth celebrating. I think these ribs are about ready, so that’ll have to do.”

The three of us sit around the patio furniture he has in the courtyard, and I swear these are the best ribs I’ve ever had in my life. Marty knows his way around a grill. “So,” Marty says as he chomps into his ribs and opens up another beer in front of me, “not to be a downer, but if Brandi keeps quiet about this until after the kid is born… do you think she’ll name the baby something stupid? I mean, it’s is Brandi.”

I hadn’t thought of that. “Geeze, she’ll probably name the baby something like Jay Z or Beethoven… I can’t imagine what sort of stupid girl names she’d come up with.” I realize I don’t want to talk about this, so I munch on the ribs and shake my head.

Our conversation shifts again. It seems we have very little positive things to talk about these days. “So, when’s the last time any of you spoke to Gabe’s parents?” Marty asks.

“Probably the funeral,” I say, and Tyler nods along with me. “Why?” I ask.

“I stopped by the other day. I don’t know why; I just thought I’d see how they were doing. They’re okay, but his little sister…”

I frown. I can’t believe I haven’t thought to check in on his little sister. “How is she?” I ask.

“She’s been better,” Marty says, “She practically worshiped Gabe, you know?”

Mary is a sweet kid; she’s just seven years old. I’m pretty sure she had been a surprise baby with how she and Gabe had been twelve years apart in age, but Gabe loved Mary. I feel like hell for not going to see her. “We should do something for Mary,” I say, “isn’t her birthday coming up or something?”

“Yeah, a couple months,” Marty says. “What would you want to do?”

“I don’t know. Something,” I say, and we agree to come up with a plan to make sure that Mary has a good birthday. It will, after all, be her first birthday without Gabe.