Who Gets the Friends? by Tim Smith Page A

good.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Here’s the crucial element—whoever we invite, we tell them to bring along someone you don’t know, preferably female. That way you can meet some new people.”
    Tom took a long swallow, then looked at Doug. That has to be the craziest idea I’ve ever heard. Then again… “Okay, when should we do this?”
    “As soon as possible. You said your emancipation is in a week and a half, right? How about the Saturday after? We can have it at my place.”
    “Won’t your live-in object to the idea of a divorce party, considering that you two are getting married next year?”
    Doug dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “She’ll love it. Besides, for some unknown reason she thinks the world of you.”
     
    Tom walked up the sidewalk to Doug’s bi-level house and counted a dozen cars in the driveway and on the street. As he got closer he heard the sound of music and laughter emanating from inside. He paused when he reached the front door, took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. I have to be crazy to be doing this. What if I do meet someone interesting? What do I say? Hi, I’m Tom and I just finalized my divorce. What’s your sign? I’m definitely out of practice.
    He pressed the doorbell. A few moments later it was answered by Peggy, Doug’s girlfriend. She gave him a warm smile and a hug.
    “It’s about time the guest of honor showed up,” she teased. “Come in.”
    Tom stepped into the foyer. “How are you, Peg?”
    “I’m okay. How about you?”
    Tom shrugged. “I’m getting along.”
    She gave him a curious look. “Is that uncertainty I’m hearing or are your feet getting cold at the idea of mingling with the masses?”
    He laughed. “Maybe a little.”
    “You’ll be fine. The party’s downstairs. You can leave your coat up here.”
    Tom tossed it onto the sofa with the others, then followed Peggy downstairs. He stopped when he was halfway down the steps and surveyed the landscape before him. There were about twenty-five people enjoying drinks and talking among themselves. Tom recognized some of them from work and noticed that the woman-to-man ratio was about three to one. Son of a bitch pulled it off.
    Doug waved to him from behind the bar. Tom strolled over to him, smiled and stuck out his hand. Doug clasped it and gave him a hearty handshake.
    “Welcome,” he said. “Did you bring it with you?”
    “Yeah, I brought it. You sure that’s what we’re supposed to do at a party like this?”
    “Absolutely. It’s closure.” He picked up a spoon from the bar and tapped it on his glass to get everyone’s attention. When the crowd quieted down, he spoke. “For those of you don’t know him, this is Tom Harris, in whose honor we’re throwing this little gathering. For those of you who do know him, forget all those stories you’ve heard.”
    Everyone laughed, then Doug continued. “To get things started in the right way, we have a little ceremony to perform. Tom, let’s have it.”
    Tom hesitated for a moment, then took a folded document from his pocket.
    Doug held it up. “What we have here is a rare artifact that was at one time valuable, but has now lost its usefulness. It’s a marriage license and it gives two people named Thomas Harris and Judi Bright permission to be legally married. As of three days ago it became worthless.” Doug took a lighter from his pocket and handed it to Tom. “Do you want to do the honors?”
    Tom accepted the lighter. “If you insist.” He held the flame to the license, setting it on fire. The people in the room applauded and whistled.
    “Way to go, Tom!” one of the men called out.
    “Now it’s official,” Doug said. “Get yourself a drink and mingle.”
    Tom fixed himself a Scotch and soda, took a sip, then moved into the crowd. He stopped to greet a few people from work, all of whom offered him congratulations before resuming their own conversations. Tom felt a bit out of place