After Sandra sets the table, we all eat and talk and convince Dean that the pork butt is not overcooked and that we enjoy it immensely. For most of us this is probably true. Because of Dean's illness, we're all taking it easy on the drinking. Everyone has milk except me. I have a glass of cold green tea with no ice.
Later we sit on the big couch. It's sort of an L-shaped beast, only both sides are the same length and there's another square cushion that is unlike an ottoman in that it is the same height and feel of the other sections, but has no sides. It fits perfectly between the two sides and makes the couch into a nice square. I'm not explaining this properly, but it's the first of its kind that I have encountered.
Imagine one of those big rectangular sheet pizzas. Now take the corner piece. Two of its edges are crust (or couch backs). Take the two adjacent side pieces, each with one edge of crust. Now take the fourth piece from between the two side pieces and diagonal from the corner. This piece has no crust edges, only couch cushioning, but it makes the couch into one large square by extending the couch without being an ottoman.
It's strange and sometimes hard to pile onto, especially with five of us, but it's clever and chic.
Lauren sits beside me. I haven't described her yet. She's tall and fat, but she has beautiful bone structure in her face. Her hair is long and brown and she's smart, sincere, and fun to be around. She's one of those people you wish could get serious about losing weight, because she'd be absolutely gorgeous.
Maybe this yoga thing will work out, 'cause Sandra could stand to lose the weight she put on after Dean made an honest woman out of her. She's still quite attractive. It occurs to me right at this moment, that perhaps the reason she is still quite attractive is because she's happy and it shows.
God, that's brutal. After everything that's going on. After having a miscarriage and spending a week with her husband in the hospital, she's still able to project happiness. She's quite a remarkable person.
Sandra, Nancy, Lauren, and I each have one of the thirty cans of beer. Dean seems not to miss it, and I'm not sure if he's genuine or if he's just perfected his act to alleviate our guilt. Maybe he's simply trying to convince himself.
When Nancy gets to her townhouse later, she will probably drink at least three glasses of wine herself before bed. I don't blame her. She just moved in two weeks ago and is still weird about sleeping there. Also she loves to drink. She is almost as good as I am about drinking responsibly around her more conservative sister.
I try to savor my beer, or at least to pretend to. I've noticed that most people that say they love the taste of beer almost never do so while drinking one. Most days I think I love the taste of beer until I have a beer in my hand, then I realize that I just love the taste of getting drunk. I don't mind the taste of beer, but let's be honest with ourselves. There are much better tasting non-alcoholic beverages.
After the movie, I have two empty cans of beer beside me. Nancy offers to get more beer, but I decline. I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to be here and I don't drive drunk. Usually.
These people. They're really something. I mean Dean and Sandra. They've got each other. They've got love. They've got a reason to get up in the morning.
Well, Dean doesn't right now, because he's going to be out of work for a month, but he's got his wife. She's his reason to get up in the morning. She's his reason to get healthy. I'm not explaining this properly either.
They have a small Yorkie named Bandit. At one point Bandit climbs onto Dean's lap, sits up on his hind legs, and lets Dean scratch his belly. Dean then explains to Bandit in baby talk that he is his best prospect and must grow up to be a pitcher for the Oakland A's and bring in lots of money and financial stability in the form of sponsorship. He nods at his dog's blank expression, then turns to his wife beside him.
"Right, Dras?" He is still speaking in baby talk. We all laugh except Sandra.
Sandra rolls her eyes and glances quickly at him before looking back at the TV and shaking her head, a small grin beginning to peek through her feigned indifference. "You're so strange," she says, her teeth flashing in a half-smile she can't hold back.
He pats her on the head and smiles at her, his eyes shining like they only do for her. "Luh you, Dras." Then he turns back to the dog, and still scratching his belly says, "Make mommy proud."
I'm probably still not explaining this well, but hopefully that helps portray why I envy them so much. They're immaculate people. Nancy is too, but it's really the relationship that Dean and Sandra have that kills me. I'm starting to get sad now.
I decide I should probably get home and begin drinking for real. The late nights are the worst, and I don't want any of my bullshit to rub off on them now. They've got enough to deal with, and I'm going to get really nostalgic and sentimental soon. I say good night, thank them for dinner, and leave.
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