6. Reed

6

REED

“THE GIRL WITH NO NAME” – THE BYRDS

D unn and I walk down Wells Street, through the park, and across Lake Shore Drive through the overpass to get to North Avenue Beach on this humid night. Laughter and shouts fill the air as teams of volleyball players battle at the nets. The sound of the ball being spiked mixes with the crashing waves of Lake Michigan.

Walking along the lakefront path, we can see groups of people gathered on top of Castaways, the one-story rooftop bar shaped like a big boat, clinking glasses as they watch the sun dip lower in the sky. The energy of the beach on a night like this is contagious, people of all ages and backgrounds creating a vibrant tapestry of life against the backdrop of the city.

“So…” Dunn lifts a mischievous grin. “Rooftop bar? That’s where your happy hour is?”

I check the time. “Eh, it might be over by now. Still a cool place, though.”

As we make our way up the stairs, the sounds of laughter and chatting grow louder. The scent of sand and sunscreen mixes with the fresh breeze from the lake. We snag a prime spot at the bar, overlooking the bustling beach below and the city and skyline beyond. The bartender greets us with a friendly smile, and I catch Dunn’s eye as we both know what we’re going to order.

“Two malbecs, please,” I tell him. Dunn nods in agreement, his eyes scanning the lively scene around us.

If you’re wondering, real bros drink malbec. That’s been a ritual of ours since a guys’ trip we took to Argentina a few years ago, and we had some epic “malbec and steak” nights.

When our drinks arrive, we clink glasses and the hum of conversation blends with the upbeat music playing in the background, creating a symphony of summer vibes. As we sip our red wine, the golden-hour light bathes the surroundings in a warm glow, painting the sky and clouds with hues of pink and orange.

It’s fucking perfect, I gotta say.

“So, cheers to summer nights in Chicago,” Dunn says. “Feels like the city experience I never had.”

“Same, man.”

“You’re getting it now, though.”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I guess.”

He furrows his brow. “You guess? You live here, right?”

“Yeah, but I guess I’m waiting for Samantha to get here to really start enjoying it. I don’t go out too much. But shit, my two years in the Peace Corps in Bolivia were nothing compared to hunting terrorists in Afghanistan and Iraq.”

We clink our glasses together again. “You need to get out more, bro—Samantha or no Samantha around. That’s what I’m here for. Mission this weekend is to get you out of your shell. Something seems different with you.”

“I admit, it gets you down in a certain way, I think, working a job that doesn’t light up your soul.” The alcohol is definitely greasing the wheels of my psyche, easing my disciplined approach to life and unearthing some questions I’ve perhaps kept buried. “I love my 401K projections, but staring down the barrel of working for some corporation for the next thirty years doesn’t exactly set me on fire. But that’s life, right?”

“You don’t like your job?”

“I do. It’s a great job. I mean?—”

“Shit, you make how much a year, and you just sit in a cubicle clicking buttons? Humanity has worked like hell to get us to this point.”

I nod. “I try to be grateful, but that’s just the thing. My job’s got no life to it. I just sit in a cube all day—or at home in my room, locked in. There’s nothing sensory about it.”

“I get that. Maybe you should get a job as a bartender. I mean, the scenery is fucking epic here.” He glances in the direction of a cute server walking past with a tray.

“Maybe I should.”

I snap a photo of the beach scene behind us for Sam and send it to her.

“What?” Dunn asks.

“What?”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Because I notice other women are alive when I’m married with a kid on the way?”

I laugh. “No, dude, I’m not judging you. I wasn’t even thinking about that.”

He shrugs. “I can look at the menu. That’s allowed. I sure as hell won’t be eating from it. Adultery is a punishable offense in the military, and not only am I not a dumbass, I’m also loyal. This is my last hurrah, my friend, before my freedom is done. And you know what? I’m okay with that.” He takes a long pull of his wine and points toward the beach. “There’s a time in a man’s life when you want all this. But at some point, you have to grow up a little.”

As if proving his point, a voluptuous girl with wavy, dark hair in Levi jeans and a tank top walks by. She’s the kind of hot that makes us look at each other and start laughing.

“That’s the thing a lot people don’t get these days, man. Life really begins with marriage and a life with your wife. Having kids. That’s what life’s fucking about, man. That’s epic. Aw hell, the Malbec is getting to me. Don’t give me that look, you fucking Puritan. We’re gonna have fun this weekend, whether you want to or not.”

“What should we do tomorrow?” I ask. “There are some cool golf courses around here. Maybe after I’m done with work we could play a round.”

Dunn gives me a blank stare. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Yeah! I know Chicago’s not really known for golf, but we have some pretty epic courses. There’s this one club Sam’s dad belongs to in the south suburbs. I could see if we get in for a couple of roun?—”

“What the fuck, dude?” He actually seems agitated. “What don’t you understand about Zach Bryan and the Red Lemons playing at Railfest? Sheryl Crow is playing at noon on Saturday. If we don’t leave until Saturday we’ll miss the majority of the artists.”

“Bro, you really need to get off this Railfest train. Work, man. I have work. In the office. Downtown.”

“Did you not just say you hate your job?”

“ Hate is a strong word.”

“Work will always be there.” Dunn smacks a hand on my shoulder. “Zach plays Saturday night. It’s about seven, maybe eight hours to Lexington from here. Plus we’ll have to eat and check into a hotel. I don’t want to feel rushed, and I want to see those other artists. We leave tomorrow morning. We’ll be nice and relaxed. We’ll have a day to chill, and then we’ll enjoy the concert.”

“Awww, West Point, that’s cute. You can’t enjoy a concert after driving during the day?”

“I’m about to have a kid. I’ll be getting no sleep for the next eighteen years. I want to see Zach Bryan when I’m fresh. Not rushed.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see that the raven-haired girl who passed us a moment ago is standing at a table nearby, and one of the girls there just somehow spilled three glasses of wine at once, with one swipe of her arm.

I grab a fistful of cocktail napkins and run over to her table, where she and her two friends are still standing in shock.

“Oh! Thank you for that,” she says as I contain the mess. “You just saved us.”

“No worries. We were about to switch to Bacardi and coke anyway.”

I look up and make eye contact with her, and something happens.

She’s undoubtedly a smokeshow. The jeans and top she’s wearing aren’t ostentatious at all, but they do little to hide some utterly gorgeous curves. Her eyes are a dark shade of brown, and she has a long, thin nose that fits her perfectly. I’m not speechless, normally, but in this moment, I hold eye contact way too long for a guy who recently bought a ring.

“Hi,” she says.

“Uh, hi,” I mumble, then look away, at the lake.

“What’s your name?” her friend, a blonde, interjects.

“I’m Reed.”

“Well, Reed, nice to meet you,” the dark-haired girl says. “You just saved me from being soaked with wine. You’re fast. Can I buy you a drink as a thank you?”

I glance at her two friends, a blonde and a redhead.

“A drink? I don’t even know your name.”

Her friends giggle.

“What’s so funny about that?”

“Oh, do you want to tell him?” the blonde says.

“I’m doing a spiritual-rebirth thing,” the raven-haired girl says. “I don’t have a name right now.”

My brow furrows. “You’re fucking with me. What’s your name?”

She shrugs. “Did I hear you say you guys are going to see Zach Bryan?”

“Uh, stalker much?” I laugh. “And no, we’re not.”

I feel Dunn’s hand slap my shoulder. “Yes, we are. We’re leaving tomorrow,” he overrules. “You a Zach fan?”

She laughs. “Yeah. I am. I love Zach. You could say I’m obsessed. The Red Lemons are pretty great, too.”

Dunn gives me a look that says, Told ya this is gonna be epic.

“I don’t like country music,” I say.

“Have you listened to Zach Bryan?” she asks.

“Not really, no.”

“Interesting. Do you always make judgments without first-hand knowledge?”

“Excuse me?”

The girl pretends like she’s making a note with a pencil in an invisible notebook. “I’ll add that to your file.”

“Yes,” the blonde says. “Put that right next to the massive dad energy I’m getting with the napkin save.”

“What is this, an energy reading?”

“No, I usually charge for those. What sign are you, out of curiosity?” The raven-haired girl asks.

“Scorpio.”

“I knew it!”

“What about you?”

“I’m a Sagittarius.”

“Oh, sorry,” the blonde chimes in. “That means you two aren’t built to last.”

“A shame, because the chemistry is radiating.” The redhead adds. “I can feel it.”

“Yeah, I have a girlfriend,” I inform them. “Nothing is radiating.”

“Isn’t Zach Bryan playing all the way in, like, Kentucky?” the dark-haired girl asks. “How are you getting there?”

“I’m driving,” Dunn says.

“That’s so cool. Can I come?”

“Um…you just met them,” the blonde points out.

“I know, but I’m getting good energy from these two,” she counters. “And I’ve never seen him in concert and I need to. Bucket list.”

“Look, I’m married,” Dunn says.

“Great. I’m not trying to date either of you, so that’s perfect. Can I hitch a ride?”

“Well, we do have one extra ticket,” Dunn chimes in. “I bought three of them eight months ago. Now my wife is extremely pregnant, so she can’t go.”

I chuckle. “I have to work tomorrow. We’re not actually going. He’s joking.”

“We are, in fact, going,” Dunn says without the slightest hint of irony.

The raven-haired girl looks between the two of us, presumably trying to figure out who’s going to win this argument.

“We’re leaving Saturday morning,” I tell her. Dunn slaps me on the shoulder again.

“We should get those drinks,” the redhead suggests.

We all head over to the bar, and Dunn waves the bartender down, insisting that we won’t be accepting any drinks from them. When the bartender finally takes Charlie’s money, he turns around. “What my friend Reed means is we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“So tomorrow?” the brunette confirms.

“I wish I could go,” the blonde adds. “I’m leaving for Michigan tomorrow for a weekend with my family.”

“Can’t go,” the redhead says. “I have a shift tomorrow.”

“I worked doubles last weekend, so I’m free this one. I’m a bartender, by the way,” the brunette says. “I’m just saving enough money so I can go start my own farm.”

I laugh. “You’ve got jokes.”

She doesn’t laugh.

“Oh. You’re serious?”

“Modern living doesn’t work for me. Don’t you ever think, Is this all there is ?” She gestures upward with her palm, in a sort of Shakespearean way.

“I like my life,” I tell her.

“Do you love your life, though? Do you ooze with passion when you think about waking up?”

Dunn shoots me a knowing look.

“No one does. That’s why it’s called a job. And Charlie here is joking. We’re driving there on Saturday. I have to work tomorrow.”

Dunn shakes his head. “Definitely not joking.”

“So you’re working tomorrow and you can’t go to Zach Bryan,” the redhead says. “What field do you work in?”

“Tech.”

“Ah. Tech boy.”

“Guilty.”

“Soo…you guys want to do something fun tonight?” Charlie chimes in.

“Like…?” the blonde asks.

“Looks like they’re wrapping up at the beer-pong table over there. Want to play?”

“Absolutely,” the brunette says. “Me and Vivian might just give you boys a run for your money.”

“We’ll see about that,” I shoot back.

The brunette’s phone flashes on the table.

Looking down, I see the words, Do Not Answer on the screen. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just my ex. He won’t leave me alone.”

“Oh.”

She lets the phone go to voicemail.

“So I don’t even know your name,” I tell her.

As the wind tousles her wavy hair, I catch sight of the full moon rising over the water, casting a mesmerizing glow.

“Like I told you, right now I don’t know it either.” She gives me a saucy look, but then adds, “A name’s a valuable commodity. I’ve learned not to share every bit of myself with every person I meet. And I’m not joking about this rebirth thing. I’m not there yet.”

Dunn waves us over to the beer-pong table, where he’s setting up the red cups with the blonde.

“Well, then,” I tell her, “I guess I’ll just call you the girl with no name.”

“The girl with no name. I kind of like that.” She smiles.