“No shit?” I attempted to clarify, in hopes I was misunderstanding what he’d admitted. “Are you saying she’s a virgin or that she doesn’t tell you off?”

“She tells me off plenty,” he grumbled.

“Wow. That’s, um, interesting.”

“Yeah. You didn’t know Ingrid is saving herself for marriage? I could have sworn I told you.”

“If you had, I would have remembered. So, are you going to be the next to put on a penguin suit?”

“I’m considering it,” Maks said. “My penis made up its mind many moons ago, but my head continues to step on the breaks. What about you?”

“What about me what?”

“Are you seeing anyone special or playing the field? Tell me. My penis wants to live vicariously through yours.”

“That’s probably the creepiest and most pathetic statement anyone has ever uttered.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” he prodded.

“I should be avoiding you.”

“You do that often enough.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I laughed.

“I wish I could. Lord, I wish I could,” he chuckled, rubbing his forehead.

“What if the sex is awful?”

“With Ingrid?”

“Yeah. What if you marry her and find out the sex is bad?”

“Is the Depression not depressing enough? Do you need to find ways to bring me down even further?” Maks tsked.

“Don’t be dramatic.”

“That’s like telling the sun not to shine, the moon not to rise.”

“Are we done talking yet?” I asked, knowing I most certainly was.

“Almost. My girl is giving me eyes. I think she wants to dance.”

“You should go do that then.”

“Will you be here when I’m done?”

“I hope not.”

“Are we still going to the game on Thursday?”

“Yes.”

“Should I swing by your place first?”

“Nice try,” I smirked.

“How about if the Cubbies win the series this year? Can I come over then?” Maks proposed, standing up halfway to show his girl he was on his way.

“Why does this feel like a bet?”

“Because you have business on your mind. Let’s shake on it. If the Cubs win, we celebrate at your place, and if they lose, we’ll wallow in our misery at mine.”

While I knew it was a dangerous bet to make, I reasoned the worst to happen would be the Cubs winning which, in many ways would be the best. Knowing my luck, if I had the chance of being put in an awkward position, the Cubs would finally pull out the championship, which would not be an entirely bad thing. I was torn but figured I could sort out the details if need be.

Extending my hand, I shook Maks’, noticing how pleased the goofball looked at the prospect. It almost made me feel guilty for keeping things from him. Almost.