When I get older
Losing my hair
Many years from now
Will you still be
Sending me a valentine,
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?
If I'd been out til quarter to three
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?
Oh, you'll be older too - Ah
And if you say the word
I could stay with you…
-The Beatles, “When I’m Sixty-Four”
Friday, April 9, 1999
9 a.m.
Taryn watched through the airport window as Isaac’s
plane landed. He was one of the last people to disembark, and when she saw him get off the plane, she hurried to his gate.
They exchanged their usual huge greeting hug, and then headed for the luggage carousel hand in hand.
“So,” Taryn said nonchalantly. “I hear you’re planning a night of male bonding this evening.”
Isaac grinned. “I was surprised when Gregor called to ask me to be a part of it.”
“Do you know what goes on at these parties?” Taryn pressed.
Isaac looked at her innocently. “Of course not.”
Taryn wasn’t fooled. “Just so you know, Lindsey and I have a little soiree of our own to go to.”
Isaac raised his eyebrows. “Really,” he said.
“Really. And I’ll bet my party’s ten times better than yours.”
Isaac snickered. “We’ll see. Let’s say that we meet back at your place at, say 2 a.m., and we’ll compare notes. We are staying at your place, right?”
Taryn nodded. “My mom is at the condo with her sister, and she won’t be back until right before the wedding tomorrow,” she said. “Iris is at Melissa’s all night. We need to pick her up tomorrow morning and go get her hair done. We’ve got the place to ourselves until then.”
Isaac chuckled. “In that case, why don’t we just bag the parties altogether?”
Taryn smiled. “After you’ve finally been accepted into the inner circle? I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
