Simmer Down

heard every detail of his parents’ cruise to Alaska and of his nephew’s rise to stardom on the local T-ball team. Sean hadn’t been dating anyone seriously but was still looking for that special someone. Yawn.
    We finished eating. I felt bloated and gross. Whenever I gorged myself on Josh’s food, I felt full, but I never had the disgusted and disgusting sensation that this food was giving me. Barry had warned us that the food was garbage. He hadn’t been kidding. But I had to admit that I was really enjoying my drink, and drinks were, after all, what the place was about. I stretched my back, which was cramped from sitting on the uncomfortable stool.
    Even with the dim lighting, I spotted Hannah right away.
    She was not at home! Not at home having my boyfriend prepare dinner for her! She was not with my boyfriend at all! What had I been thinking? There was no way Josh was going to leave Simmer the night before the opening to cook for Hannah Banana! On second thought, it was still early enough for her to meet up with Josh later. Watching Hannah, I realized that she was at Eclipse because she was working. Standing at the back of the bar, she held a clipboard and was scanning the room and making notes. If I were Hannah, I thought, I’d be writing, The terrible food, should be updated with refreshing new cuisine, hose the circa 1980 neon, and install comfortable seating.
    Coming to my senses, I realized with a jolt that I definitely did not want to be caught by Josh’s ex while out with my ex. Hannah would love to let Josh know that I was at a bar with Sean. I had to escape before she saw me.
    Sean had his back to Hannah, and I tried to angle my body so she wouldn’t see me. I did my best to crouch down in my seat, which was, of course, a barstool and consequently didn’t lend itself to crouching. The result of my effort was to make me look as if I had early-onset osteoporosis. “Sean, I’ve got to run, but I’m glad you asked me about calling the police, and it was good to see you again.” I reached for money to cover my drink, of which I’d had only half.
    Sean stopped me. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it. I’m meeting someone anyway, but it was good to see you, too.” He didn’t seem offended by my eat-and-run attitude, so it was easy to avoid an awkward good-bye. I gave him a quick, polite hug and left Eclipse.
    I was halfway home before my car finally warmed up. I thought holiday thoughts and admired the preparations for First Night, Boston’s annual New Year’s Eve celebration. Ice sculptures were taking shape. Banners had been hung over the streets, and strings of lights were strewn across trees. Feeling the residual effects of Global Warming, I succumbed to maudlin reflection: it was all so beautiful, and I was in a rotten mood.
    I was glad that Sean had sought my opinion instead of going directly to the police to report on the altercation between flan nah and Oliver, but the possibility that Naomi might also have witnessed it left me with a terrible feeling. Had her passion for her work become violent passion? Naomi was admittedly eccentric, but there was a beautiful purity about her fervent devotion to her cause. The image of Naomi behind bars was horrifying. On the one hand, Oliver’s murder was an inexcusable offense. On the other hand, I couldn’t let Naomi, of all people, go to jail.

ELEVEN

    I arrived back at the condo to find Noah once again on the wooden structure on the back of the building that served as a fire escape and outside stairway. On the night before New Year’s Eve, he was belatedly stringing lights. Clad only in a pair of workout pants, he looked ready to provide bodily services at any moment to any interested woman who happened upon him.
    “Oh, for Christ’s sake, put on some clothes,” I snapped as I brushed past him. “This weather we’re having? It’s called winter.”
    “Aren’t we cranky tonight,” he commented, smirking.
    “Yes, ‘we’ are.” Stomping up the stairs, I hoped I was accidentally-on-purpose kicking wet slush down on top of him. “And having to look at your ass isn’t helping.”
    “That’s not what you used to say,” he hollered.
    Must he constantly remind me of last summer’s indiscretion? I reached my landing, jumped up and down, and mashed wet snow between the cracks in the floor boards. Then I dumped an old window box full of ice water down on him.
    “Hey, cut it out! You’re not very full of the holiday spirit!”
    I