Laughter erupts from the table. Even his mother chuckles into her cloth napkin.
“Oh, Adam, come on,” she says. “We all know you love telling that story. It’s your favorite, one you’ll probably tell your grandkids someday, although shouldn’t.”
“What’s this chick’s name?” Lori might as well punch me in the face with that question. Will he tell them? Has he told them before? Is this all just some sick joke on me?
“Meghan Jones.” Jenn answers with the name I was told, the name Adam must have made up. Thank God.
Jenn continues on, ending the story with a quick reenactment of the whiskey chick barfing on Adam. It’s humiliating, but I somehow survive.
Afterwards, the people at the table break into individual conversations. Beautiful bowls of fresh vegetables and platters of sliced meat get passed around. I take each thing handed to me and pass without serving myself. I’m in a daze, horrified and stunned, unsure what to say or do. I glance up at Adam and he silently mouths “sorry” to me.
I pretend I don’t see.
Lori is Cute… For Henry
No yelling, no angry looks, no storming away from the table. She won’t even look at me. I don’t know why but that makes me feel even worse.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” Henry serves Remi, placing food onto her plate just like he used to do for Sasha. She picks up her fork and sticks it into the green beans and takes a bite.
Sweetheart? Why is he calling her that? Are they actually together? Everything happening at this table tonight is a nightmare. A fucking nightmare.
“So you’re single too?” Lori asks. It appears Henry is taken so now I’m up. No thanks. I finish off the wine in my glass and reach over to refill it.
“I am, but I have my eye on someone.” I can’t help but glance up and stare across to the beauty being spoon-fed sweet potato casserole by my brother.
“That’s great. Really glad I wore this push-up bra,” Lori mumbles to herself as she tugs away at whatever uncomfortable contraption is underneath her shirt.
Jenn waves her hand, trying to capture my attention. She points at her phone and then hides her hands under the table, typing away. A few seconds later, my phone vibrates in my pocket.
Jenn: How great is Remi? Isn’t she perfect for Henry?
Me: Not really.
I look up from my phone and Jenn sends me a dirty look before typing again.
Jenn: Are you kidding me? She’s gorgeous and funny. I love her and I think Henry does too. Look at them. They finally seem to be clicking.
Me: If she’s so great, why didn’t you set her up with me?
Jenn: LOL. Sorry, Henry saw her first.
Me: No he didn’t. I did.
Erase, erase, erase.
I click on the backspace and erase the last text before I can press Send.
Me: IDK. I personally think Lori is a better match. She’s cute, she loves golf. You should let Tiffany set them up.
Jenn: Then maybe you should go for her.
Me: Who?
Jenn: Lori. Duh.
I let out a frustrated sigh and place my phone down on the table. Remi looks at it and then over at Jenn, who also places her phone down next to her plate. Her eyes shut, and she takes a deep breath through her nose. Fuck. She knows Jenn and I were just texting. She probably thinks it was about her, that I outed her as the whiskey chick. If I could just get five minutes alone with her. I want to apologize and let her know that I have never and would never reveal her real name.
“We’re out of wine.” Henry pours the last of the bottle into his glass.
“I’ll go grab some more,” my mother offers, but I push my chair back and stand up.
“No, sit and eat. I got it.” I could use a few minutes away from this table. I excuse myself and head into the kitchen.
In the fridge, a bottle of white is chilling next to a row of beers, and I grab one of them as well. I twist off the cap and gulp, in no rush to return to the dining room just yet.
“Hey, you got a minute?” I turn and find Remi standing behind me in the kitchen.
“Yeah,” I sputter, wiping away the few beer dribbles that escape at the shock of seeing her in here. “I wanted to talk to you too.”
“I just want to know if anyone here knows the truth about who I am. That I’m the real whiskey chick. Does Jenn? Does Henry?”
“No, I never told a soul your real name.” I take a step forward and she takes a step back. “Remi, I’m sorry. I know it looks awful, me telling that story, but I never thought I’d see you again.” That didn’t come out right. “I wanted to see you again. I just didn’t know how.”
“It’s okay. I just wanted to know if anyone knew so I could prepare myself. You don’t have to explain or lie.”
I’m not lying. Not fully. I did want to see her again, but truthfully, I did know how. I knew where she lived—I had dropped her off that night at her house—or I always could have asked the friend who arranged the date to give me her number. But I guess I was afraid to do anything. What if I wanted to see her again, but she didn’t want to see me? What if she drank so much that night because after meeting me, there was no connection and that was her way out?
“I swear. No one knows. You don’t need to worry. I’m really sorry,” I say again.
“No, I’m the one who needs to apologize. That was an awful night, and I’m extremely embarrassed by my actions. And then what happened last night…. More whiskey, more mistakes,” she says, hanging her head.
She called the date awful, referred to the kiss as a mistake. That’s a kick in the gut.
“I know you won’t believe me, but last night was the first time I’d even touched a sip of whiskey since that night.”
“That night wasn’t as bad as my sister probably made it sound. And like I said, you don’t have to worry about me revealing who you are. I wouldn’t want to ruin things for you and Henry.” It’s an effort to smile after saying those words. She’s here for my brother. Not me.
“Henry.” She swallows. “Yes. Thank you.”
She leaves the room, and I quickly throw back the rest of my beer.
I should’ve left when I had the chance.
I Hate my New Boyfriend
“And this is a wedge.” Henry takes a long golf club from his bag.
“Cool, can you take it and hit me in the head with it?” I say teasingly. Well, I’m only half-kidding because even though I did somewhat clear the air with Adam, I’m now stuck with Henry, and I don’t think I can take much more golf talk.
“What?” Henry’s brows crinkle and the eyes that I thought were so amazing when I first saw him are now just two plain old hazel-colored orbs staring blankly at me. “Why would I hit you with a wedge? It could kill you.”
“It was a joke,” I say, embarrassed. A bad one. My brother’s right, I have no filter. “I’m sorry, it’s just I don’t care much for golf. I used to work at this putt-putt place one summer and—”
“Putt-putt isn’t real golf,” he barks defensively, cutting me off. “You can’t compare putt-putt to actual golf.” He turns away, trying to hide the disgust on his face. Nope, wait. He turns back toward me to make sure I see it. Why is he so offended? Did he invent golf?
“Well, I guess I’ll see tomorrow,” I say, referring to the mandatory golf date I’ve been coerced into. When Jenn invited me here, I wish she’d warned me of the fine print. This weekend at the cabin is the equivalent of visiting a timeshare. In order to get the free weekend, you have to sit through a painfully long seminar.
I just want go up to Jenn’s room, climb into bed, and hide under the covers until it’s time to go home. But I can’t because apparently I have a boyfriend now. One I have nothing in common and not one ounce of chemistry with.
How pissed would my dad be if I took an Uber two hours back to Jersey? Hmmm…. I might be willing to risk finding out.
“This is called a wood.” Henry pulls out the next boring-ass club that looks exactly like
the last four. “If you want, maybe tomorrow I can let you hold my wood.” He chuckles at the perverse joke. Normally I love a perverted joke, but this one turns my stomach and I don’t even crack a smile. “I don’t think you get it, I was trying to make a joke too. When I said wood, I was implying….” He rolls his hands, trying to think of a delicate way to explain.
“Yeah, like a boner. I get it,” I say, and then force out the most unnatural-sounding laugh ever.
Henry turns his nose up, disgusted by my crass language, but it’s not enough to keep him from continuing with his in-depth explanation of the fairway wood club. He pulls out something called a hybrid and starts explaining to me the differences. I watch his lips move and try to imagine kissing them.
I throw my arms around his neck; he hesitates and then kisses me passionately. Tongues entwined. Soft buzzed hair.
Fuck. That’s not picturing, that’s remembering.
That stupid kiss with Adam last night in the dark is still there. It’s becoming impossible to erase it from my mind.
I try again.
Henry is still yapping, and I try to envision myself walking up to him and shutting those flapping gums up with my mouth. I’m walking, he’s yapping, I reach him and... shake his hand.
That’s the best I can do. Henry’s good looks when I met him may have allowed my mind to fantasize, but now that I actually know him, the best I can muster up is an acquaintance-like gesture.
So, although I shouldn’t, I go back to Adam.
Even drunk, I felt the sparks in that kiss last night. That kiss had even seeped into my dreams while I slept. I woke up happy until it came flooding back to me that I didn’t even know who it was I’d kissed.
But... enter the crazy twist, I do know him.
I know I shouldn’t drink again after last night’s whiskey binge, but after the day I’ve had nothing sounds better than a cold beer on the patio. That’s where the rest of the family went while I got sentenced to the dungeon, I mean the den, for a golf demo.
There’s a knock at the door. I hope it’s a man in a black cape and sickle to take me away. I run to open it. No such luck. It’s Tiffany and Lori.
“Hey, sorry to bother you two, but I was talking with Adam and he and Lori are going to tag along with you guys tomorrow if that’s okay.”
“Of course.” Henry lifts the golf club in his hand and does a small swing into the air.
Lori peeks her head in and waves. “Oh wow, is that a Callaway? That’s beautiful.” She steps inside.
“Yes it is.” Henry smiles at the girl who actually shows an interest in his treasured hobby. “Would you like to see it? You can hold my wood,” he says, and Lori breaks into a cascade of ridiculous giggles. Henry lights up, delighted that his boner joke landed this time. He encourages Lori over, and she excitedly bounces her way to the bag propped up by the desk. I see an opening and take it.
“While you catch her up on the clubs, I’m gonna go run and use the bathroom. Okay?” I ask, but am barely acknowledged. Henry gives a partial wave in my direction, focusing his attention on the tiny golf fan ogling his big bag of clubs.
Freedom.
I squeeze out the door past Tiffany and take off down the hall.
“Hey, wait up,” Tiffany calls, and runs to catch up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you guys like that. And I want you to know that I had no idea about you and Henry when I suggested that he take Lori golfing.” Tiffany has a beer in her hand; the condensation drips down the side of the bottle.
“No worries,” I assure her. “It’s fine. Where did you get the beer?”
“Outside.” She points to the french doors off the great room. “Go out the door and there’s a refrigerator to your left. But seriously, you don’t need to worry, I had it all wrong and who knows, maybe Lori is actually a better fit for Adam?”
“Oh... with Adam.” It shouldn’t matter to me but it does.
“Yeah, so like I said, no worries, Henry is all yours.”
All mine. Fabulous.
We walk outside together and Tiffany points out the fridge before she rejoins the group seated around a fire pit roasting marshmallows. I sneak off to the fridge hoping to score a beer or two unnoticed and go back inside. It smells great, and I’d love a s’more, but on second thought, the patio has a few too many people for my liking. The dinner table nightmare still has me leery and I don’t think I’m ready to face Adam again yet. I just want to go somewhere quiet, drink my beers, and pull up Google on my phone so I can search ways to fake an injury and get out of my golf date tomorrow.
I grab two Heineken and stealthily slip back in the same door without anyone seeing me. I debate where to go, up to Jenn’s room where I risk passing by the den of doom and being swallowed back in, or out the front door to the beautiful white porch.
It’s such an obvious choice.
I tiptoe to the front of the house, crack open the front door, and step outside to the beautiful setting sun. The sky is a mixture of pink and orange hues as the sun slowly disappears behind the clouds. It’s so beautiful here, and I’ve barely had the time to enjoy it. I walk over to a small grouping of cushioned chairs and sink down into one, curling my legs up under me. There’s a breeze and a slight chill in the air, but it doesn’t bother me. I tuck one beer down next to me and the other hisses as I open it.
“Hiding?” a voice says from behind one of the big white columns at the corner of the porch. I uncurl my legs and sit up in the chair as Adam comes into view through the lowering shadows. He has a beer in his hand, finishes it, throws the bottle haphazardly into the lawn, and steals the one I stowed away.
“I just needed a break,” I say, watching him carefully, suddenly unable to find a comfortable position in the soft chair.
“A break from who? My family? My sister?” He takes the seat next to mine, the last of the sun fading away. “Or are you hiding from your new boyfriend?”
“Henry is not my boyfriend,” I say emphatically. “I don’t see it working out with him.”
“I’m not surprised,” he says into the darkness, and another empty bottle thumps onto the front lawn.
“Why’s that?” I ask nervously, sipping on my beer. A small gust of wind blows over me, lifting my hair and causing me to shiver.
“Because my sister set you up with the wrong brother.”
Drunk in Love
“Excuse me?” Remi says. I can’t see her face. Is she happy, mad, repulsed?
“You heard me.” It’s too late to turn back now. “I should’ve been the one my sister set you up with. It should’ve been me taking you into the den after dinner to talk about golf.”
“I hate golf,” she says.
“I know. That’s why it should’ve been me. I would have taken you in there to not discuss golf.”
“Adam, are you drunk?”
“No.” But one more beer and then, yeah... probably.
“I don’t understand. Why would you want to date me? Aren’t I the big joke? Whiskey Chick, the girl who got totally drunk and barfed on you.”
“No, no, yes, but no.” I stand up from my chair next to hers and search for one of her hands to pull her up next to me. “I’m the better choice for you.”
“Adam, this is crazy. You don’t know what you’re saying.” Her voice lowers to a whisper in the darkness. I still can’t see her, but I can hear the slight change in her breathing from being so close.
“Do you remember that kiss last night? How good it felt? How right?” I ask, moving in closer to her.
“I thought you were someone else.” She exhales a shaky breath.
“You thought I was Henry kissing you like that?” I somehow doubt that.
“I had been drinking with your sister. I didn’t know what I was doing. I had no idea that it was you.”
I inch in closer. “And now that you do know?”
“I think now you’ve been the one drinking.” She turns her head away from me. “You don’t know what you’re sayin
g.”
Fuck. The liquid courage loophole. You can speak your mind easier, but it causes people to question the validity of your words.
“I’m not drunk, Remi. The beer is just helping me sort out my thoughts and tell you what’s on my mind, what I’m thinking, and what I want to do.”
“What is it that you want to do?” Her words are barely audible, our lips closing in on each other’s. No more talking; the rest can be said through actions. I pull her hands up toward my shoulders, and she wraps her arms around my neck. Her chin lifts and the moment my lips meet hers it’s as if the sun rises. Bright light fills my senses and Remi tears herself away.
“Someone’s coming,” she says, panicked, distancing herself from me. The porch lights were flicked on, not the sun. She sinks back down to one of the chairs, and I walk toward the door to see who just fucked this up for me.
“Oh, Adam.” Henry looks surprised to see me. Lori is with him, and the two step outside onto the porch. “What are you doing out here? I thought everyone was in the back?” Before I can reply, his eyes land on Remi curled up in the chair. “Remi, you’re here too. What’s going on? Why were you guys out here in the dark?”
“Smoking,” I say fast. But maybe I should just be honest. Remi isn’t interested in Henry. I believe this fix up is all wrong. I’m the one she’s really supposed to be with, and I’d like the chance to prove that.
“Remi, you smoke too?” Lori says, and retrieves a pack of cigarettes from her purse. “I thought I was the only one.” She puts a cigarette between her lips. “Join me?”
“Uh... no thanks, I’m all smoked out for the night.” Remi stands up and tucks her hands into the sleeves of her hoodie. “I’m actually very tired and think I’m going to head upstairs for a good night’s sleep.”
“Good idea, rest up for tomorrow,” Henry says, and Remi gives a stifled laugh in response before disappearing back into the house.
“I’m sorry, but she’s a little strange,” Lori says. She takes a drag of her cigarette and blows out a plume of smoke before crossing her arms across her chest. “Brr. It got chilly.”
Whiskey Chick Page 5
