text: Joyce had just put her pan in the oven when there was a knock on her door. “It’s open,” she called, as Paisley, her tortie cat, wove between her legs. “Hey,” Kenny said, coming on in, carrying a six-pack. “Something smells good,” he said, helping himself to a beer then sticking the rest in the fridge. “Want one?” he asked, his hair still damp from his shower, falling in his face. “Maybe later,” Joyce said, wiping down the counter. “I’m making brownies.” The TV was blaring Jeopardy, so Kenny plopped in the well-worn recliner. Joyce kept the old chair around because it had been her dad’s favorite, and now it was Kenny’s. Joyce poured a healthy glass of wine and took her place on the couch, tucking in her feet, and patting the couch for Paisley to hop up. The cat ignored her. “How was your day? she asked, Kenny, as they watched the game show and sat in companionable silence. “Crap,” Kenny answered, taking a big swig of beer, and putting his feet on the coffee table, since the recliner no longer reclined. “Manager has it in for me.” At 54, her long, wavy hair was still her best feature, so she usually wore it down. “I told you I’d help you find another job,” Joyce reminded him. The one thing Kenny disliked more than his boss was computers. He refused to look for another job because everything had to be done online now, so he stayed at the garage and complained instead. Jeopardy gave way to a new episode of NCIS. When the buzzer went off, Joyce quickly put the dessert on a hot plate and returned. “They’ll be cool in a bit,” she said, picking her wine back up. “Think this’ll be the last season? Kenny wondered. “Naw. This show will go on forever. I bet it has a cult following,” Joyce murmured. On the next commercial break, Joyce got up to cut the brownies. “You want ice cream with it?” “Sure,” Kenny nodded, getting up to grab another beer. “My daughter is coming to visit soon,” Joyce said, scooping out 2 large helpings of vanilla ice cream. “How is Jodie doing?” “Good. She really likes her new job. And I think she wants me to meet her new boyfriend,” Joyce said, setting the heaping bowls on the coffee table. “This looks good,” he said, putting down his beer and snatching up his sundae. “I just had a skimpy frozen dinner tonight.” “So, what’s new?” Joyce teased. “You never cook. I told you to come earlier. I never cook for just one,” she reminded him. “Stubborn.” “So, when is Jodie coming?” “Weekend after next.” “Are we still on for cards this weekend?” he asked. “Is the Pope Catholic?” she replied, sarcastically. Kenny chuckled as he scooped up a large bite of brownie. At 10:00 they watched the news and complained about the local politicians, while Kenny popped open another beer. “Cheers,” he said, holding up his last beer. “You want a brownie to take home?” “Sure,” he said, taking a slurp, feeling very relaxed. “Good thing you live next door,” Joyce told him. They’d been friends for 20 years. Way back when they were both married to other people. The four of them occasionally partied together. Then Kenny’s wife left him, and Joyce and her husband still tried to include him. When Joyce got divorced one night they got plastered together and commiserated over their marriages. Then they just started hanging out together. It was better than being alone. Now they mostly watched TV in the evenings. Joyce helped Kenny with his taxes and any paperwork, while Kenny could fix anything. They never verbalized their feelings, but they became much better friends since their divorces. At 11:00 on the dot, Kenny headed home. They both got up early for work. “See yah tomorrow,” Kenny said, heading for the door. “Dinner’s at 6:30,” Joyce commanded. “I’ll see you then.” “Fine. What can I bring then,” he asked, sounding annoyed, yet not really? “Nothing. Just your charming self,” Joyce snapped. “Humph,” he muttered and left. Over the next week they ate dinner together each night. Generally, Joyce cooked, although Kenny brought take-out one night. Neither one of them was interested in dating, so this arrangement suited them. Mutual friends tried to insist they were dating but after each of them had been burned in divorce, they knew otherwise. Their friendship was less complicated with mutual respect. The following Tuesday, Kenny showed up spitting mad with a case of Coors - his beer of choice. “What happened to you?” Joyce asked, the minute he walked in red-faced and swearing. “Don’t ask!” he snapped, continuing to mutter under his breath. He popped a cold one and downed it while he leaned against the countertop. “Work again?” Joyce guessed. He nodded with another swig of beer. “You’re a talented mechanic, Kenny. You can find something better, if you want,” she suggested, softly, not wanting to piss him off further. “That’d serve him right,” Kenny spat. “I just might!” “All right then. When you’re ready I’ll help you,” Joyce assured him. “Damn fool. He’s gone too far this time. You know he reprimanded me for something I didn’t even do, and in front of a customer? Can you believe that?” “I know you can do better,” Joyce said, placing her piping hot casserole on the table. “Damn right I can.” “On a happier note, Jodie will be here this weekend,” Joyce told him. “I’m cooking pot roast so mark your calendar.” “That’s a family thing,” he said, his mind temporarily off his problems. “You’re family,” Joyce scolded. Kenny frowned with a look of confusion. “Won’t Jodie wonder why I’m there?” “No,” Joyce answered. “Jodie has known you most of her life. She knows you’re a fixture around here.” “Well, I...,” he hesitated, at a loss for words. Joyce laughed it off. “She knows we’re not together like that,” she pointed out. “Well, I know, but it’s not like we’re family.” “It’s not?” Joyce asked, irritated. “Family doesn’t have to be blood. I’m closer to you than most of my family,” she stated, taking a deep breath. “Well,” Kenny stammered. “It should just be you and Jodie, that’s all.” “So, you can hang out with me every night, like a family member, but when my daughter comes to visit you get the heck out?” “Yeah,” Kenny said, losing his enthusiasm. “That’s ridiculous! We’re more than friends. Why can’t you admit that?” “Look, I don’t want to argue,” he said, setting down his beer. “So, you’re not coming and we’re not “family,” she air quoted. “Something like that,” he said, with a sigh. “You can’t admit I mean something to you, is that it?” Joyce fumed. “We have a nice thing going,” he defended. “It’s simple. Why complicate it?” “Because you matter to me,” Joyce told him. “I’m with you more than I am anyone, and if you can’t admit we’re more to each other, maybe you should leave.” “Dammit, Joyce,” he fumbled for words. “Fine then,” he said, and got up and left, slamming the door behind him. Kenny wasn’t one for sentiment. He hated being vulnerable. Joyce spied his case of beer sitting on the counter and she knew he had too much pride to come back for it. Stubborn fool, she muttered to herself. There was no need for all this drama, she sighed, flopping down in her seat. Who needed this crap anyway, she thought, throwing her hands in the air? What? His ego couldn’t handle needing her. Joyce had had enough of that when she was married. The rest of the week, Joyce ate and watched TV alone, often wondering if she’d pushed too hard. They had a good thing going, without all the expectations of a romantic relationship, so why had she gotten so mad? Why was it so difficult for Kenny to be vulnerable? Teresa, his ex, had sure complained about this over the years. So, he didn’t want to acknowledge that they were their own kind of family. So what? Why hadn’t she left good enough alone? Joyce knew what Kenny was like. He once told her his dad had really hurt him and he'd never been able to let it go. That was the most he would tell her, and he has never referenced it again. That was the thing about their relationship. They accepted each other the way they were - flaws and all. And then she'd gone and pushed him for more. Joyce knew Kenny loved her like family even if he couldn't say it. She should have let him alone. By Saturday, Joyce still hadn't heard from him. She'd picked the phone up a half a dozen times to call him but chickened out. He knew how she felt, she told herself. Why did she have to be the one to make overtures? Simmering pot roast and potatoes filled the air while Joyce set the table. She set a place for Kenny just in case, but she doubted he would show at this point. Jodie was due any moment. It would be good to see her and meet her boyfriend. Joyce nudged Paisley with her foot, who was sniffing around the table. “You have your own food,” she scolded. There was a rap on the door, and Joyce tidied up some more while she went to answer it. She thought Jodie still had a key and wondered why she was knocking. “I thought you had a key,” she said, swinging the door open. Kenny stood on the stoop with a sheepish grin on his face, holding a bottle of her favorite wine. “Hey,” he said, handing it to her. “Am I still invited?” “Of course,” Joyce said, letting him in. “Jodie should be here soon. Dinner is almost ready.” “Wow! You went all out,” he said, admiring the nicely laid table. “I don’t see my kid that much these days,” Joyce reasoned. “And apparently this new boyfriend is serious,” she confided in Kenny. “Beer?” “Sure,” he said. “It smells like Christmas dinner,” he praised. Joyce knew it took a lot for Kenny to show up. It was his way of apologizing, she knew. Joyce didn’t bring up their argument and she knew he wouldn’t either, and just like that they were okay again.