Dead Boyfriends by David Housewright

into St. Paul. Certainly, there were a great many people at Rickie’s doing just that. The upstairs dining room, which featured live jazz starting at 9:00 P.M. , was nearly filled with diners by the time I arrived, and mostof the sofas, stuffed chairs, and small tables in the downstairs lounge were occupied.
    I searched for Nina. I wanted to see her before she left on her date. I wasn’t sure what I was going to tell her. “Please don’t go” came to mind. Only I couldn’t find her.
    The bartender waved me over. “Hi, McKenzie,” she said. “Looking for the boss?”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œShe left a few minutes ago.”
    â€œDid she go home?” I glanced at my watch. Maybe I still had time to intercept her.
    â€œNo, she left. . . Just a minute.” She went to the beer taps and poured a Summit Ale, my usual. She set it in front of me.
    â€œYou’re going to bad-news me, aren’t you, Jenness?” I said, pronouncing the name
Jen-ness,
as she once instructed me.
    â€œNina left five minutes ago with the guy who took her to the charity ball.”
    I drank some of the beer.
    â€œSorry,” she said.
    â€œI already knew she had a date.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œYou know?”
    â€œNina’s been grumbling about you for two days now.”
    â€œHow bad has it been, her grumbling?”
    â€œPretty bad.”
    â€œIt wasn’t my fault.”
    â€œYou mean about getting arrested?”
    â€œShe told you that, too?”
    â€œWhen things are going well, Nina keeps her life pretty much private. When they’re going bad, she kinda talks to herself out loud, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œI know.”
    I drank more beer.
    â€œDid you meet this guy she’s dating?” I asked.
    â€œDaniel. Not Dan or Danny. Daniel. He’s an architect. Has money if you go by his clothes and car.”
    Snob,
my inner voice said.
    â€œWhat does he look like?” I asked.
    â€œHe’s about your size, your height and weight,” Jenness said. “I figure he must work out because he’s in good shape but, I don’t know, he seems soft to me. Like he’s never actually done any physical labor or played a contact sport.”
    Wuss.
    â€œAnd he wears glasses.”
    Four-eyes.
    â€œWhere did they go?” I asked.
    â€œI don’t know. But if I did, McKenzie, I’d keep it to myself.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWhy? So you won’t go over there and slap the guy around. I gotta tell you, that’s not the way to a girl’s heart, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œJenness, would I do a thing like that?”
    â€œI don’t know. Would you?”
    Good question.
    I pushed the beer away.
    â€œBourbon,” I said. “No ice.”
    Jenness frowned at me.
    â€œDon’t give up, McKenzie. So what if Nina dates this guy? It’s a onetime deal. In a couple of days she’ll cool off and the two of you will get back together.”
    â€œYou think so?”
    â€œI’m betting on it.”
    â€œMake it a double,” I said.
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    When people ask where I’m from, I answer St. Paul. If the question comes from someone who actually lives in St. Paul, I tell them I’m from Merriam Park and they know immediately what I’m talking about. True, I actually live in the suburbs. When I came into my money I bought a house for my father and me that I thought was in St. Paul’s St. Anthony Park neighborhood, only to discover too late that I was on the wrong side of the street, that I had accidentally moved to Falcon Heights. Still, I’ll always be a Merriam Park boy at heart.
    St. Paul is a city of neighborhoods. There are seventeen in all not counting the neighborhoods within neighborhoods that are loosely defined by parks and churches, and the attitudes of the people who live in them can best be described as parochial. Take the Greater Eastside, an