It is not lost on worried friends that today would have been Andy’s forty-sixth birthday. I have tried to put it from my mind. The day didn’t belong to me, it belonged to Andy. And, of course, Alexander. I wonder if he celebrated or told Mindy to skip the cupcakes.
There’s my cell phone ringing again. I only occasionally answer, reassure, pass on plus-one invitations, decline casseroles, pretend to have another incoming call. People are being kind and I’m being kind of a d**k. Stan called to ask if I want to volunteer as an SAT test monitor. I told him I’m not ready to double-date with him yet. He seemed to appreciate the joke.
This time, I do not answer, so it’s like a musical whose curtain never rises as a portion of the Gypsy overture plays
The one phone call I do not get daily is my
