"Hey Alan. Good news - you are going to the cinema tonight!" Charlie informed Alan, sounding funny, but not really joking. He opened Alan's door and found him all dressed up.
"What's up, Al? Going on a date?"
Alan shrugged. "Not really. Gail invited me to Pavlov's - she said she called Chelsea but you two obviously have something tonight, right?"
Charlie looked surprised. "Gail invited you?" He asked incredulously.
Alan shrugged again. "I know, hard to believe. I don't think she actually wants something with me."
"Well, sound good anyway." Charlie commented, looking thoughtful. "I am just glad she finally left." He added.
"I don't know, she is kind of, you know - sexy, and . . . "
"I know, I know," Charlie held his hands defensively. "I just thought that maybe this was a test of some kind - you know, to see if I make a move on her." He explained.
Alan frowned. "Why would you think so?"
"Because she was saying these things like "why can't more men be like me or "maybe Chelsea would lend me to her and crap like that. I was really under pressure!" Charlie explained. "And Chelsea suddenly goes to work at irregular times - you have to see there is something suspicious, don't you?"
Alan looked thoughtful. "It could very well be a coincidence, but I can see why would you think that." He admitted. "So anyway, today is some anniversary?" He asked, trying to change the topic.
Charlie shook his head and frowned. "Not really. Anyway, don't come home until eleven at least, is that okay?" He asked, his voice losing the degrading tune he had before.
Alan nodded and sighed. "Yeah, don't worry."
"So Alan, Chelsea told me some good things about you - and I must say, I am a little surprised by the fact you are living with your brother." Said Gail, while sipping the most expensive wine Pavlov's bar got.
"Well, she told me you are some kind of a doctor and that you are a family man, if you understand."
Alan snorted. "Funny you should mention that - because my son is growing up to be a . . . well, not really the way I wanted. And with Charlie . . . my ex take most of my money and I am really grateful Charlie helps me out, but you know - sometimes he is mean about it and combined with the fact I am often ashamed how my life turned out, we get along only about fifty percent of time. I know this isn't really something a person like you would find interesting . . ."
Gail was listening intently and shook her head. "It is - don't get me wrong, I would probably find it boring or I don't know, but my recent . . . thing with my ex boyfriend makes me wonder if there is more to the life I know. Because, well, Brian has everything, he has money, he is succesful and good looking, but it still didn't work out. I realized I do not know much about relationships." Gail saw Alan looking more sad and stopped. "Let's not talk about it anymore, okay?"
Alan nodded and sipped his beer.
"So about your son, what would you like to change about him?" Gail asked and grimaced. "Sorry, that sounded worse than in my head."
"It's fine." Alan sighed. "Jake is just really absorbed in the modern age, you know - TV, computer, ipod and these things. And his eating habits consists of pizza, burgers, toasts and so on and I eventually stopped trying to change it."
"Because you didn't want to spend your short time with him arguing, right?" Gail asked knowingly.
"Exactly. It was getting tiresome trying to explain how important it is to eat healthly, but it is not only about food. I tried to explain something about healthy relationships too, but when I think about it now - I don't know anything about it - for god's sake, I am divorced!" Alan laughed bitterly. "Doesn't matter now. You know - you really helped me, even if you don't realize it." He said suddenly.
"Uhm, have I?" Gail asked, unsure.
Alan nodded. "Yeah. I don't know why, but talking to you made me realize I have to change myself, instead of trying to explain Jake something. I guess I will just have to show him how does a normal person look like, because well - I am not really good role-model. But I will be." He lifted his glass.
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