Bait (Wake, #1)(89)
When he returned with the new Remy bottle and a few others, he sat them down on the bar in front of me.
“Can I get a glass of ice?”
He threw about five cubes into a Glenciarn glass and handed it to me. I said, “Play some music, would ya? Something louder than these violins in my head.”
I walked myself, the glass, and both bottles of Remy Martin to the booth in the back. After emptying my hands of my chosen mind eraser, I unscrewed the light bulb a quarter turn so that it went out, burning my numb fingers, my reflexes already slow, so the pain didn't hurt. Maybe I'd hit my deductible on pain.
Nate turned music on and what a good man. The beginning riff to Bulls on Parade pumped through the speaker that sat right behind that very booth.
I opened the new bottle, poured the amber cure over the ice and swirled it.
I looked at the old bottle. It was short, round and clear. I ran my thumb over the staff wielding sitar and hours passed.
Nate left me to it, not bothering me much, only coming over to switch out my glass with a fresh one with ice. He brought me a glass of water the last time. I'd slowly drunk a giant's share. I sipped the room temperature cognac and swallowed memories and fantasies alike.
My head in one hand, my finger circled the rim of the glass, I was officially Hemmingway drunk.
“You look like you need a friend,” said a sympathetic woman's voice.
Aly.
I didn't respond. My eyes were hot and when I looked up to see her they felt dry for having stared at the same spot on the table for hours.
She sat opposite of me and looked around the room.
“It's hopping in here,” she said sarcastically. “I can't believe I almost missed this party.”
“I'm not in the mood, Aly,” I croaked and took the last drink within my glass, immediately reaching to refill it.
“Oh, I'd say you look like you are in a mood. A bad one, too.” I looked at her blankly, trying to show her this wasn't a good time to play an angel. I was still missing the devil.
“Listen. I don't know who called you to come down here. I'd rather they hadn't.” I heard my words run together, my head lulled a bit. My drinks were gaining on me and they caught up to me all at once. Maybe I hadn't noticed since I hadn't spoken or been forced into logical thought for a while. It was almost peaceful letting my mind sink to the bottom of the glass.
“Nate called your brother. Cory called me.”
“How cute. You have a Casey's Drunk calling tree.” I patronized her and slapped the table.
She jumped.
I pulled my hood up over my head and yelled at Nate, “Thanks!”
He lifted his head from the draught he was topping then flipped me off and went back to the beer.
“Casey, don't be a dick. They're worried about you.” She reached her hand across the table and it touched me.
I recoiled. “Don't. Hey, I got myself into this. I wonder if everyone will throw me a I-Told-You-So Party. Yeah, that'd be awesome. I can get all of these Poor Casey, you knew this was going to happen, and what did you expect talks out of the way all in one shot. Well, did you guys ever think that I didn't think this was going to happen? Did ya? I WAS WRONG!”
Nate made quick time to the table and shoved me over on the bench, backing me up against the wall.
“Listen. You don't have to yell at her. We get it, man. This shit sucks. But this is life. You made a choice and shit didn't turn out. You've got tonight to get ripped. Sit here all f*cking night until you pass out. Be my guest. All the time you need. Tonight. That’s life, man. Wake up!”
“I don't want to wake up,” I growled back like a rabid dog.
“That's your choice. This shit will lose you a lot more than some girl.”
“The girl, Nate. The. Girl.” I slumped, brought my thumb and index finger to the bridge of my nose and took a breath. “I'm drunk. Just let me be drunk. Please?”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Sure, no problem. I'll get you some more ice. He stood to return to the bar, grabbing my empty glass. “Don't yell at her again.” He pointed to Aly with the hand that held the glass and gave me a threatening look. “Got it?”
He didn't wait for me to answer. We both knew it wasn't really a question.
Aly didn't say anything. Her eyes looked red, but she smiled at me. It was more toothy than sincere.
“Just. Leave.”
Was everything from then out going to be make believe?
Sunday, May 24, 2009
THE WHOLE THING FELT like dress-up from when I was a child. Make believe. I was the bride and Grant was the groom and we got married and we were going to live happily ever after. Everyone else believed it, why didn't I?
I saw Casey at the wedding. I was glad that my mother gave me a Valium when she found me like she had still sitting in the chair.
She'd heard everything. So, I didn't feel the need to tell her anything more. She kissed my forehead and simply asked, “Are you ready to go?”
I said no, but got up anyway. I loved her for not asking more about it.
The wedding breezed by. The reception did the same. We danced. I drank and then I drank a little more. Micah took care of me while she was there, but she left a little after ten, and I couldn't blame her. They had little Foster to take care of.