Free Ledge Walkers by Rosalyn Wraight Page A

called the cop on me. She gave me a shrug and an I-meant-well smile.

    Laura yelled to the group, “To hell with these seating arrangements. Kate and I have designated the porch as the smokers-only area. I trust someone will deliver Sam's goodies to us.” She cleared her throat and glared at Claudia.

    With that, she threaded her arm through mine and pulled me out to the porch. She grabbed us both a cigarette, gave me one, and then lit them both. Hadn't we just done this, but in reverse? I didn't like being on this end, but then I recalled that I hadn't liked the other end either.

    "You know,” she began. “Holly's a table up from me, too."

    "Yeah, but Claudia'stwo up from me!"

    "She was two up when you got together. Today didn't move her any further away.” After a long pause, she said,
    “Perspective, Sutter. You seem to look at a lot of things in life like you're still at the nerd table. Everything from the nerd table looks like a long shot."

    Ah, long shots! That indeed struck a cord, and suddenly I gleaned some primitive understanding. Claudia had been my ultimate long shot. She was beautiful, smart, articulate, funny, passionate—so many things. And yes, it was that ancient predicament that spawned too many melodramas: She was all these things, and she wanted me.
    I remembered fearing that I was going to end up the punch line in some sick cosmic joke.

    Suddenly, I heard Sam's voice, “Remember fish sticks that were gooey in the middle? Instead, let's try tilapia planks breaded with panko crumbs and Parmesan, pan-fried in garlic olive oil, and served with dill mango mayonnaise. And what school cafeteria menu would be complete without Tater Tots? Let's try diced Yukon golds, stuffed with goat cheese and crispy pancetta, steamed, and then fried."

    "You are god!” I heard Holly yell.

    A minute later, Claudia appeared in the doorway with two plates. “Could you two cut a path through the smoke for me? My hands are full."

    Laura faked a machete in the foggy jungle. She neared us, and Laura and I both sat down on the floor in front of the couch. She handed us our plates and then sat next to me on the couch. A kiss was planted on my head.

    "Do you feel better?” she asked.

    "Getting there. I can at least breathe again."

    "In this?” she gasped and probably literally. “Promise me you'll eat something."

    "I will. I promise."

    She got up to make her exit. She went up the step to the dining room, turned, and stopped. Her eyes peered into me. “Honey?"

    Oh shit!I looked at her, thought for a few seconds, and asked, “Captain, huh?"

    She scrunched her face like she was braving pain, and then very coyly she nodded her head.

    I laughed. Yes, indeed, my laugher functioned again.

    She turned, took a hesitant step, and slowly turned around again. “Honey?” arrived once more.

    Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!I braced myself.

    "I do have genital warts. I thought you should know.” She turned quickly and sped away into the dining room that was now in an uproar. I heard “I was kidding!” at least three times.

    Laura and I laughed as we stuffed ritzy fish sticks in our mouths. I was famished, and I knew that for me, that was a good thing. Negative emotions killed my appetite quicker than Maggie's tofu.

    "Do you ever wonder how you got Holly?” I asked.

    "Look at her!” She snickered. “Watch her. Talk to her. Laugh with her. Shit, I think I wonder at least five times a day."

    "Do you think you wonder because you don't think very highly of yourself, like you don't deserve her?"

    "Oh, I deserve her. I make sure I spend everyday deserving her. You're the writer. It's verb not a noun—not a place you get to,” she said and then paused. “I don't think I wonder because I figure I'm a big schmuck. I think I'm just in awe. Sounds corny, I know—and if you ever repeat this, I will totally deny it.” She slapped my arm.
    “What about you?"

    "I think for a long time I didn't feel like I deserved her. I