Giving Chase

"Did you know that spring was first spring-time , which was shortened from the fourteenth century usage of springing time ? But before that, spring was known as lent . Coming from the Old English lengten , which means increasing in length or growing longer. Because winter is defeated by lengthening days."

Seated at the bar, Levity propped her chin on her palm and smiled up at him. "My favorite old-timey word for spring is opetide."

"Ah! I understand completely. It's a charming image, the time of opening. Buds and blossoms." And more softly, he pleaded, "Come back with me to the table."

"Because Moniqua told you to give chase?"

"Because I hate parties, but I am here at your behest. So take responsibility."

The bartender came over then with a couple of glasses. "Best I can do, Levity. Enjoy."

"Thanks, Lem." She claimed both drinks and led the way back to their group.

Murph asked, "Do you know everyone by name?"

"Is that so strange? Nametags are a thing, you know." She breezily changed the subject. "Since you aren't finished with me, this is my next riposte. I remembered a spring-themed cocktail. They had the elderflower syrup, but not the rhubarb bitters."

"While I applaud your creativity in embracing the challenge, I can't possibly …."

"Oh, I learned my lesson. No sparkling wine for you. These are mocktails."

Murph glanced back toward the bar, stuck on details. Levity really had seemed to be distancing herself from him. And after declaring him the victor, why had she known he wasn't ready to be done. Or that Moniqua had urged him over. She shouldn't have been able to hear. And for that matter, Lem wasn't wearing any nametag that Murph could see.

Contradictions. They were the kinds of things that Murph was used to pinpointing. And editing out. Not possible outside of print, so they annoyed him. They didn't add up to a lie, but they still made him grumpy.

Levity reclaimed her seat, then she placed the drink before him. "I know a spot we can get the authentic version. Divinity went through a cocktail phase. Actually, I think she's had at least three cocktail phases."

"Your sister. I've never met her."

"You can thank me later."

He sipped cautiously. "She can't be any worse than you."

Levity gave him a pitying look.

Murph liked mixed drinks about as much as he liked mixed metaphors. But this one tasted like a peace offering. He matched Levity sip for fruity-sweet sip.

Then Becca clinked her knife against her glass and began a speech calculated to make Tippy blush. The woman kept their team in sync, and it was important that she understand how much they appreciated her efforts.

"That reminds me!" Becca said. "Whose birthday is next?"

Murph mumbled, "I haven't even survived this party and you're planning the next?"

Levity laughed and raised her voice. "Stop trying to hide under the table, Mick."

"Something quiet," the man begged. "Actually, let Moniqua choose someplace. Make the most of her next date night with Angelo."

Which set off a round of teasing and suggestions.

Tippy updated the group calendar on the spot.

Murph poked disconsolately at his final plate of fish. But he could tell that the overall tone of the group shifted. Things were winding down, wrapping up. He could go home. Or … well, he'd probably just go back to the office.

And then Levity leaned forward to whisper, "Do you have room for pizza?"