January 3, 1974, 9:34 pm

Flick's Tavern

It was odd to be in his own bar and not be working. Odd to be sitting in one of his own booths, drinking a beer poured for him by someone else, but Flick found that he enjoyed it. It was just him, Ralphie, and Schwartz in the booth. The girls had opted to stay at Flick's house with the bottle of wine Jane had brought. "Girl talk," Lois claimed, and Jane had seemed eager to indulge in it.

"Cat got your tongue, Schwartz?"

Ralphie said it, but Flick had noticed it, too. Schwartz was also drinking slowly, which always meant something was really getting to him. Flick didn't know what the problem was. Dinner had gone great. Jane was charming, and she and Lois hit it off right away. She and Ralphie talked a bunch about writing.

Oh. Yeah. That right there was the problem, quite possibly. Or at least what triggered the problem.

"You okay, man?"

Flick watched Schwartz, and out of the corner of his eye noticed that Ralphie sitting next to him did the same. Schwartz, on the other hand, didn't look up at either one of them from across the table. Instead, he stared at his glass for a long moment, until he must have realized he was being stared at. He grinned, shrugged, looked at each of them. "Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

But his bravado faded, took his smirk with it, and he looked down again.

"Well, you've had that beer for half an hour and it's not even half gone."

Schwartz shook his head, pushed his glass around. He sighed. Watched his beer slosh around in his glass. Then shrugged a shoulder. "I just don't know what Janey's doing with me, you know?" He ran a hand through his hair and looked up, at Ralphie. "I mean, Ralphie, you guys were talking about all that writing stuff…I can't talk about that with her. Or anything like that." He looked away. "She's going to get bored. If she isn't already."

"Well, hell, maybe she likes boring." Flick grinned, but Schwartz glared at him and Ralphie elbowed his side, so he leaned forward. "Come on, Schwartzy. She's got it bad for you. Anyone can see that. Right, Ralphie?"

Ralphie nodded. "Definitely. She couldn't stop looking at you, for one thing. Even when she was talking about writing."

Schwartz said nothing but tapped his fingers on the table.

Flick and Ralphie looked at each other. Flick wasn't sure what to say. Schwartz wasn't usually all that forthcoming with anything, really. He'd already shared more than Flick had expected him to. "You're a great guy, Schwartzy. She sees that."

Schwartz still didn't look up, and the smile that crossed his lips was made from sarcasm. "A great guy. Right. A guy who lives with his mom, has no job, and spends all this time at a bar. A real catch."

"I think that's bothering you more than it is Jane," Ralph said.

Schwartz stared at Ralph. Flick winced. Schwartz's expression was tight the way it always was before he snapped and became a jerk. Out of defensiveness, Flick knew, but a jerk nevertheless.

"What's your point, Ralph?"

Ralph, ever the diplomat, seemed a little hesitant to say anything, and he glanced at Flick. Flick nodded, despite the fact that Schwartz picked up on the collusion and crossed his arms.

"My point is that you can change all that."

"Yeah, because it's that easy."

"I didn't say it was easy. I said you can change it. You've already started, Schwartz. You said yourself the job interview went well."

Flick held his breath. This could go well, or it could go not so well, and he prayed for the well. Schwartz stared Ralphie down, but then released his own held breath. His shoulders dropped, and he uncrossed his arms. And Flick was relieved. At the very least, it wasn't going to result in Schwartz losing his cool.

"What if I don't get it?"

Flick leaned forward. "Then you look for another one. You keep looking until you find one."

Again, Schwartz stared down at his hands. And again, Flick and Ralphie exchanged glances.

Ralphie leaned forward. "Okay, look. When I came home, you thought I was this big-time success, right? I wasn't. I spent all of 1973 writing a book that no one bought. Twelve publishers said no, Schwartz. The story about my old man? First thing I've published. And that wouldn't have happened had Sandy not taken it to the editor of the paper."

Schwartz frowned. "But I thought…" He looked at Flick, who was just as surprised.

"You thought wrong." Ralphie shrugged. "To be fair, I let you think wrong. Look, I wasn't writing the right stuff. Coming home was kind of a kick in the ass for me, I guess. Pointed me in the right direction. Maybe Jane is doing that for you. You want to be better for her? Then be better."

Flick tapped his hand in front of the glass Schwartz was so fascinated by and managed to get the guy to look up at him. "You can do it, buddy," he said.

A faraway look came to Schwartz's face, and Flick wondered where exactly his mind was. There was sadness, so not anywhere good.

"The last thing my old man said to me was that I could do better. That I could do more," Schwartz said. "I believed him for awhile." He looked at Flick and gave a sarcastic smile. "Remember? I believed him and thought I could open up my own shop. And look how that turned out. Total disaster and almost cost my mother her house. Nothing works out for me. Why should this be any different?"

"Do you want it to be different?" Ralphie took a drink of his beer and stared at Schwartz. "Because unless you do, it won't be."

It was pointed, and Flick again expected Schwartz to react in his usual way when called out. Instead, he slumped back against the booth and didn't look at either Flick or Ralphie. "I've only known her a week. And it's crazy...I mean, I've never felt like this about anyone before. I'm just...I'm..." He rolled his eyes and looked away, over toward the bar.

Flick knew what he wasn't saying. He glanced at Ralphie, and knew that Ralphie knew, too. "You rode the ramp, Schwartzy," he said. "You're a forty-two-year-old man and you rode the damn ramp. That took balls."

"Seems like Jane thinks so, too. Maybe you didn't notice it, but she looked at you like you were some sort of god when you told us that story." Ralphie grinned at Flick. "Again."

That coaxed a bit of an actual smile from Schwartz. "You really think she's got it bad for me?"

Flick nodded. "No doubt about it."

Ralphie raised his eyebrows. "She must. She calls you Paul."

They all chuckled, and Flick reached over to tap the table in front of Schwartz again. "Here's the question, Schwartzy. Do you think she's worth the risk? Worth the effort?"

For a long moment, Schwartz stared at the table, but his lips curved upwards until he made a full smile. He lifted his eyes. "Hell yes, she is," he said.

Schwartz lifted his glass, and Flick and Ralphie lifted theirs to it. All three clinked their glasses. Flick chuckled as Schwartz downed his beer. "How about another round?" He grinned. "On Ralphie."

Ralphie nodded and started to speak, but Schwartz held up his hands. "Nah. This one's on me." He looked back and forth between Flick and Ralphie, and his smile faded. "Thanks. For..." He gestured towards them.

Flick smiled and nodded just enough that he knew Schwartz would see. He figured Ralphie did the same. Figured they both did it to make it easier on their buddy.

After a moment, Schwartz patted the table and stood up. "Beers all around?"

"Yep."

As Schwartz walked away, Flick looked at Ralphie, who grinned after Schwartz.

"Jane must really be something else," Ralphie said.

Flick nodded. "She must be."

And thank the good Lord, for Schwartzy's sake.