I waited a few seconds before answering. I didn’t want to sound too excited. “Yeah, that’d be great John, thanks. What time?” He said, “Eight o’clock” way too quickly and then there was a change in his tone. “Hey, did you meet London’s baby brother at the airport?” I’m certain John knew that Irish and I are the same age, so he just couldn’t resist referring to him as London’s baby brother. He never let me down. If my brother was anything, he was consistent. “Yeah, I did meet him at the airport,” I said. “Well would you want me to invite him to dinner, too?” Now that was a very non-John thing to do, I thought, asking me if I wanted something. I was floored. “Sure,” I tried to say casually, “that’d be cool.” “Okay then, I’ll see you at eight Saturday night. Take care, Jurnee.” Click. I was glad that it hadn’t been bad news about my aunt, but now I had all week to worry myself about this so-called party. I’d pump Irish for more information. I didn’t want to walk into this party blind. I was sitting in the chair with the cell in my hand when out of the blue I remembered Irish telling me that John didn’t know he was going to meet me at the airport. Yes, Irish had said that.
