Laugh 'til You Cry

"Come to the bar," he said. "I'll probably be there."
"Probably?" I asked. "What's with the indecision?"
"I don't want to say," he said.
"You don't want to say?" she asked.
"It's a phone call. About what, I don't want to say," he said.
"Sounds like a booty call," she said. "You're hoping to get a better offer for the night?"
"Now I really don't want to say," he said. "Maybe I'll see you there."

We walked to the bar without him. Fifteen minutes later, he appeared.

"Everything okay?" I asked.
"Everything's... okay," he hesitated.
"And the phone call?" I asked.
"Oh, the phone call didn't happen," he said.
"Why not?" I asked.
"It might have ruined my night," he said. "And I decided I'd rather come here."
"I don't understand," I said.
"I'm expecting to hear bad news," he said.
"Oh," I said.
"Now I feel like I have to tell you," he said.
"No you don't," I said. "Unless it really is about a booty call."
"No, it's..." he started saying, but he was laughing. "We have to stop laughing before I tell you this. Because it's not funny."
"Okay," I said.
"You can't laugh," he said again.
"I won't," I said.

I could already feel my lips moving upward into a smile, however. Not laughing is hard when you're forbidden from it. He looked about to laugh, too.

"The phone call has to do with a family member who... who is not doing well," he said.
"Oh no," I said.
"Really not well, actually," he said.

I laughed. I had tried to contain it, but I laughed, and I felt like a dick for doing so. But he laughed, too.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You're right, that's not funny at all."
"It's okay," he said. "I don't know why, but I'm laughing, too.

We laughed because we weren't up for crying that night.