Trying the Knot by Todd Erickson Page A

mutilating at
breakfast.
    Poole grunted at Ben and said, “Easy there,
tiger, we don’t want anyone committing Harry Carry around here.” He
lumbered away hiking up his pants and called over his shoulder,
“Lock up shop when you go to lunch.”
    Near speechless, Ben managed, “Gross, Nick’s
sister is sleeping with him?”
    “And you heard it here first,” Thad said. He
pasted a newspaper column in place and puffed away on a cigarette.
“You know, Chelsea didn’t mean the things she said earlier. Don’t
be so hard on her right now.”
    “I’m sorry, but she’s a mega bitch.”
    “She can’t understand why Vange did what she
did.”
    Flushed with animosity, Ben asked, “What
makes her so special? We’re all having a hard time dealing with
this.”
    “She’s struggling with personal
problems.”
    Ben snorted as if he did not believe perfect
Chelsea could allow herself such a human pastime as personal
problems. “More like inner demons.”
    “I think she wants to quit law school and run
away.”
    “Oh, how practical,” Ben said sarcastically.
“Who does she think she is, Thelma or Louise?”
    “It’s a phase I guess.” Thad threw up his
hands as if to say he was ready for lunch. “She’s suffering from a
prolonged adolescence.”
    “Whoa, I wish I had the luxury of dropping
out of law school.”
    “You dropped out of a community college or
wasn’t that luxurious enough?”
    “Don’t even start. What will she do now?” Ben
asked.
    “She’ll probably turn on, tune in, and drop
out and become obnoxiously hip.”
    “It’s totally whacked, we’re all
quitters.”
    “Speak for yourself.”
    “All of us except for Nick and Kate, of
course, and just look at them – getting hitched and settling down.
He’ll become a doctor, and she’ll teach elementary school,” Ben
pondered aloud. “Sound like the all-American dream.”
    “Sounds like a nightmare, if you ask me.”
Thad poured himself another shot and toasted, “To the
newlyweds.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    Thad could not help but think about Chelsea,
and how she had sat on his desk earlier and spouted her case why he
should tell Kate about Nick’s fling with Vange. Because he was
unsure what to do, he decided to approach the subject with Ben for
his input. “You know, Chelsea thinks I should say something to
Kate.”
    “About?”
    “Um, Nick and Vange.”
    “Seriously? You’re not thinking about it, are
you?”
    “Considering Kate is my cousin,” Thad
reminded him needlessly, “don’t you think I owe her at least that
much?”
    “What good could come of it? It’s none of
Chelsea’s business. Just because her life is miserable, she wants
to ruin everyone else’s,” Ben said, not entirely convinced of his
own logic. “She’s always hated Nick.”
    “So it seems, but it still doesn’t excuse me
from telling Kate. She has a right to know, I saw Nick with
Vange.”
    “So what, they were making out.”
    “It was way more than making out.”
    “Trust me, Kate doesn’t want to know.”
    Thad stubbed out his cigarette and shrugged,
“If I do tell her, it has to be before the wedding or not at
all.”
    “Not ever.” Ben checked his watch and
commented Thad had less than twenty-four hours to make up his mind.
He lifted his feet up off the desk and drew his knees to his chest.
Spinning around on the swiveling chair, Ben asked, “Want to get
high?”
    “Here?”
    “Good a place as any.”
    “Sure, but let’s go upstairs,” Thad
whispered.
    “You mean, the love nest?” Ben asked, and he
puckered his lips and made a long smooching noise. When they paused
on the stairs, he pinched Thad’s butt.
    “Try and control yourself,” Thad said dryly,
and he lifted the door leading to the third floor attic, the site
of the Portnorth Porthole editor’s lust-fueled affairs.
    Ben settled in on a rickety old office chair
and started rolling a joint. Near the huge dirty window overlooking
downtown, Thad gazed silently out at