Free Ghostwriter by Travis Thrasher

money on technology, no matter how big his savings account was.
    As the announcers blathered on about how the Bears were sure to lose today, Hank quickly polished off his first beer.
    “Nervous about the game?” Dennis asked.
    Hank had a few days’ worth of reddish beard, deepening the color that was already there from so much time in the sun. He rubbed
     his chin and shook his head. “Nah. Julie came over.”
    “To your apartment?”
    “Yeah. Must be the apocalypse if she came over, right? That or the fact that she’s getting married and moving to Santa Barbara
     or Santa Ana or Santa Claus. Somewhere in California.”
    Dennis watched as Hank sucked down half of his second beer, his eyes glued to the television. He’d seen Hank before when he
     was in this mood, and he was like a loaded gun. Eventually he was going to go off.
    “I mean, I knew she was dating, you know, but I didn’t think it was that serious. And maybe it’s not that serious. Maybe it’s
     a serious rebound from us being official six months ago.”
    Hank and Julie had been married for eight years. It was Hank’s second marriage and her first. Part of the issue, an issue
     that had always been there, was Hank’s first go-around and the three children he had with his first wife. Dennis was glad
     there had been no children for Hank and Julie. He wasn’t sure what to say.
    “Tell me you were right,” Hank said, cursing as he looked at his friend. “You can say it. Go ahead.”
    “I think I might go ahead and have a beer,” Dennis said.
    “No, come on. I mean, you were the best man. A guy’s supposed to listen to his best man, right? And what’d you tell me—Lucy
     and you in fact.” He cursed again. “What’d you guys tell me before I proposed, and then again before the wedding?”
    “It’s done now.”
    “You were right.”
    “Life happens,” Dennis said. “We’re both alone and neither of us expected it or wanted it.”
    “Yeah, but for you—I mean, women like Lucy don’t come along. Ever. And I mean—she was something else, you know? What she went
     through, that’s just not right. For me it was my own stupid fault, you know, but not you. It wasn’t your fault Lucy died.
     You didn’t have me telling you the night before the wedding not to go through with it.”
    Dennis laughed. “I wish she could hear you say that. She used to argue with me sometimes about friends like you.”
    “Yeah, I know. Bad influences. I still am, huh?”
    “Think the Bears are going to win?” Dennis asked.
    “I don’t know how you’ve done it.”
    Dennis studied the ruddy-faced man across from him. “What do you mean?”
    “How you’ve managed to stay—to still be you—after she died. I mean, I think I fell apart more than you did when Lucy died.”
    Dennis nodded. He had heard it before. “I couldn’t afford to fall apart,” he said. “Not in front of Audrey. She was going
     through enough pain.”
    “Audrey’s a great kid. She has Lucy’s genes.”
    “Thanks. But she’s got a lot of mine too.”
    “You know, man—everybody needs to grieve.”
    “Yeah, I know,” Dennis said. “But everybody grieves in different ways.”
    “So what’s your way?”
    “Trying to control as much as possible.”
    “Control’s an illusion, man.”
    Dennis forced a smile.
2.
    “Can you make it to your apartment?”
    Hank cursed. “I only let you drive me home so you could sleep well. Didn’t want to give you any nightmares.” Hank stressed
     that last word, something he joked a lot about since Dennis specialized in writing books devoted to giving others the very
     same thing.
    “What a game, huh?”
    “Ninety-five yards in less than two minutes,” Hank said.
    “And they say miracles don’t happen.”
    “At least not to the Bears. But it happened today.”
    “Want me to pick you up tomorrow?”
    “Nah. I’m calling in to work. I’ll get Stan to drop me off to pick up the car tomorrow.”
    It was close to eleven. They had