Whiskey Flick

by Ryan Ringbloom

  Her arms cross over her waist, and she doubles over as if she’s in a great amount of pain.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, but I’m not. “It’s time, Jenn. We need to start talking. Things are serious with us. I’m planning on telling my parents soon, and you need to talk to your family too. Starting with Henry.”

  “We can’t tell Henry. Not yet. I’m not ready.” Her arms wrap tighter, and she leans into what appears to be more pain. “I feel like I’m getting an ulcer.”

  “That’s because you’re making yourself sick.” I get up on my knees and crawl over to where she is so I can hold her. “I know it’s going to be hard, but after everything comes out and the dust settles, then we can move forward. Have a future that doesn’t involve a witness protection program for our children.” My God, we’re talking about kids here. We need to face the problem and deal with the consequences. How can I make her understand that the longer we wait, the harder it’s going to get?

  “How do I even start a conversation like this with him?” I hate seeing her like this, sad and in pain. Scared of the hurt the truth might evoke.

  “How about I talk to him?” I offer again. “I won’t tell him about us. I can discuss my attraction to women, how I was confused. He knows my parents. I’m sure he’ll have an understanding of why I struggled with the truth for so long. It’ll also give him a better explanation for why we broke up.” Something I hated not being able to do at the time. But with my new feelings for Jenn, the vulnerability I was going through, I selfishly broke free and ran with no explanation.

  “I don’t know.” She hesitates. “What if you tell him and he knows?”

  “Knows what? That something happened between me and you? He won’t.” Henry is intuitive when it comes to business, but personal matters always seemed to elude him. He would never suspect a romance between Jenn and me. The two of us were developing feelings for each other right under his nose. He never saw it.

  “Okay.” She twists her hands in her lap. “Just please, don’t mention me. That’s something I’ll need to tell him myself.”

  “Of course. I would never mention you.” I understand that it has to come from her, but maybe if I take the first step, it will make things easier for her when she’s finally ready to tell him. “We’ll take baby steps. I’ll tell him about me, and we’ll see how he reacts. Then we can take it from there.”

  “And what about telling your parents? When are you doing that? Is that something you want me there for?” she asks.

  Bring Henry’s sister, the man they deemed perfect for their daughter, to the house to tell them I’m not only gay but in love with his female sibling? That might end in death. Mine, theirs, hers? I’m not sure, but someone would be carried away in a body bag after that big reveal.

  “No, again, I think baby steps are going to be needed,” I say skeptically. Baby steps, maybe a bulletproof wall of glass, but if they don’t accept it—and I know there’s a good chance of that—I’ve come to accept it’s their loss. “But it’s all okay. We got this.”

  “Mm-hmm.” She rolls back to her original position, resting on her belly facing the TV. Her eyes glaze over, and I’m sure she’s not even paying attention to what she’s watching. I know everything will eventually work out, and I understand that Jenn can’t see that yet. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. It will be hard as fuck. I know that.

  But what’s the other option?

  That’s Next Year’s Problem

  “This is for you.” Sasha hands me a little wrapped package.

  No one knows anything yet. All the telling. All the baby steps. It’s not happening until after the holidays. That’s all I’ve asked for this Christmas. But apparently, I’m getting more.

  I open the box and see our faces smiling up at me. There’s a small string attached to the photo.

  “Pull it.” Sasha smiles and clasps her hands together, moving in closer to me on the sofa in her living room. The white lights and red accents of the sophisticated tree only a designer could pull off glow in the corner.

  I pull the string, and one picture turns into two, three, it keeps going and going until there’s at least a dozen or more of our pictures. Some of them are recent, a picture of us from our skydiving adventure, a picture from an overnight trip to Philly we took, a selfie in bed. And then I realize the other pics are from back then, pictures I erased, deleted from my phone a long time ago.

  “How do you have these?” I ask, unable to tear my eyes away. Sasha in a gown standing next to me in a pair of old sweats. The two of us on the golf course by my parents’ cabin. Roasting marshmallows. Drinking wine. Silly selfies. They’re all there.

  “I always asked you to send the pictures to me. I saved them all.” She points to one of us hugging in front of my parents’ Christmas tree. “This one is my favorite.”

  It’s hard to look at these pictures now and not see what was always there between us. After everything happened, I had deleted every trace of her from my phone. With the exception of one picture that was of just her. It was from the last time I had seen her before she showed up that day to talk. I studied that picture. I always believed between that picture and the video footage of that day, I could get the answers I needed. Where had it come from? Had I led her on? Was I just some curiosity? Was she using me for a way out with Henry?

  “I see it so clearly now,” I say. I knew the feelings on my side, labeling it as just a crush, but now seeing all these pictures from the past dangling on the string, it was always there between us. Both of us. “Do you think the others saw? Do you think he did?”

  “No, I honestly don’t. We were struggling to see it ourselves, how were they going to see?” She glances down and examines one of her fingernails. “Besides, I’ve kept up with your posts. The pictures of you and Remi.” Her nail, she’s obsessed. “Sometimes you seem just as happy when you’re with her.”

  Jealousy over Remi. It’s fantastic. It almost makes me wish Remi knew about us, because she would love knowing that my girlfriend was envious of her.

  “Remi is my best friend and absolutely nothing more.” And yet she knows nothing about what’s really going on in my life. That’s sad. “Were you nervous I was going to fall for all my brothers’ girlfriends from now on?” I tease, dragging her hand away so she can leave that poor nail alone. “Besides, did I ever tell you who Remi is?”

  “What do you mean, who she is?”

  “Remi. Is. The. Whiskey. Chick.” I announce each word slowly for dramatic effect.

  “Shut the fuck up.” Sasha’s eyes nearly pop right out of her head. Her jaw drops. “Adam’s whiskey chick? The story he told every possible time he could? The girl we all knew he was completely in love with?”

  “Yes.” I nod excitedly. How did I forget to tell her this?

  “How did that happen?” she asks, her mouth still hanging wide open.

  “We were in class together. I tried setting her up with…” I close my eyes. “Henry.”

  “Stop it.” Her hand slaps the cushion, and she leans in, wanting more details.

  “They went on one bad date, she came to the cabin, Adam sees her, Henry doesn’t know what the fuck is going on, none of us do. I didn’t know she was the freaking whiskey chick. Anyway, long story short. Adam and Remi are now together.” I toss my hands into the air. “So, like, once again, technically, Henry had a girl stolen by one of his siblings.” We shouldn’t laugh. It really isn’t funny, but we both break into hysterics.

  “Thank God he met Tina, or I’d feel horrible,” Sasha says, rubbing a tear away from her eye.

  “Oh, please. Do you know how hard I worked trying to help him find someone? He was a hot mess there for a while, but then he finally met her. You don’t even want to know that story.” We’re sobering up, but I know in a second, laughter is going to explode all over again. “He met her because she and her friends jumped into his Mercedes thinking he was,” I’m already laughing so hard, I can hardly get the next words out, “th
eir... Uber... driver.”

  “Stop. I can’t breathe.” Sasha is doubled over, about to topple off the couch. “That cannot be possible.”

  “It is. I don’t know how, but it is. And they’re happy and in love, crazy story and all.” Laughter is so good for the soul. The two of us lost in our laughter, sitting in front of the dazzling tree—it’s euphoric.

  “Okay, so if Adam and Henry have their crazy stories, why can’t we have ours?” she asks, and in that moment it sounds so simple. So easy.

  “I think we can,” I say with confidence for the first time. As crazy as it is, this is our story. Maybe we shouldn’t wait?

  It’s time to tell him.

  The Sasha Who Stole Christmas

  “I got you a little something.” I place the ceramic pot down on his desk. “It’s a bamboo plant.”

  “Thank you.” Henry wastes no time moving the plant to a “better” location on top of his filing cabinet.

  “How are you liking the changes so far?” This is the warm-up conversation to the one I’m really here to have. Jenn gave me the go-ahead to start with our baby step plan. The other night made us realize—what are we waiting for? Yes, it’s a crazy story, but lots of people have crazy stories. This may not be as bad as we think.

  “Good,” he says. I know Henry and I know there’s more. “However, the artwork that’s hanging in the lobby—by any chance was that hung incorrectly, perhaps upside down?”

  Yes. A twenty-five-thousand-dollar painting and it was hung upside down. Is he serious?

  “I’m not sure. I’ll have to look into it,” I say, my gaze darting over to the open door. It’s Christmas Eve, and for the most part the office is empty, people using the last of their paid time off before the new year, but I’ll still need to assure we have complete privacy. “Anything else I should be aware of?”

  “Not that I can think of, but I’ll let you know.” He grins, dismissing me.

  “Henry, before I go, there’s something I want to discuss with you. Do you have time?” I walk over to the door and shut it. When I turn back around, his jaw is clenched, eyes locked on his computer screen. I think he knows what’s coming next. Maybe he’s been expecting it this entire time. Just waiting for it. The breakup.

  “We’re good, Sasha. We’ve moved on. Our relationship is now only of a business nature. Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”

  “I owe you an explanation,” I start, and as I move closer to his desk, the tension in his face intensifies. “And I know it’s long overdue, but the truth behind our breakup was something that was very hard for me to admit. I was struggling with so many feelings, and I knew you had a ring.”

  “You knew about the ring?”

  “I did.” My chin drops.

  “How?”

  “There were hints everywhere,” I say. Henry was a lot of things, but keeper of secrets, he was not. “You would discuss clarity of diamonds. Ask how I felt about platinum over gold. You measured my fingers for a pair of gloves. I wasn’t stupid.”

  “But apparently, I was.” His voice hits a dark note.

  “No, you weren’t.” Dammit. I planned for this conversation before coming. I thought I was better prepared. “Henry, I was….” This is hard. So much harder than I ever thought. “I was in love with somebody else.”

  “Somebody else?”

  “A woman.” I won’t tell him what woman. I promised I wouldn’t.

  His brows furrow, and his lips tighten into nonexistence, pulled in-between an angry bite. He’s confused and growing upset. I need to elaborate.

  “I’m gay, Henry. I like women. When we were together, I thought, had hoped, that I was also attracted to men in the same way, but I wasn’t.”

  “I see.” He doesn’t meet my eyes, zeroed in on his desktop while he absorbs my big admission. “So everything with us was, what? A lie?”

  I’m not sure how to answer that, and I take a few seconds.

  “We were good together, but we weren’t right for each other,” I say.

  “So, this woman you were in love with while I was out spending a fortune on a ring, were you with her while you were still with me?”

  “No.” I waited a whole 24 hours. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I wanted to tell you, but—”

  “Stop. It’s fine.” He cuts me off. “I get it. You don’t need to explain any further. You prefer women. And I didn’t know.”

  “Henry, the other woman, it just happened. I never planned for it.”

  “Really, Sasha, it’s okay. It seems we were never a real couple anyway, so why would you being in love with someone else make a difference?”

  “Henry, please know, I always cared for you. But those feelings weren’t enough. I knew that once my feelings for her became clear.” My hand fists the silky material of my blouse over the left side of my chest. “I did have love for you, but I was in love with her.”

  “Okay, so let me make sure I understand. You never really loved me, you were in love with another woman and broke up with me because you knew I had a ring.” His jaw sets, and a simple twist of his neck causes a loud crack. “Any other joyous announcements you want to share with me before I go have Christmas dinner with my family?”

  Um, that it’s your sister, I think but don’t dare say. Maybe we can save that little nugget for Easter Sunday?

  “Please don’t hate me. I know I should have told you when we broke up. I just couldn’t. It was selfish of me. I’m sorry.” I search for something positive. “And now look, you met Tina, who you told me about and you seem so happy and she seems so perfect for you.”

  His eyes finally find their way over to mine.

  “I am happy. Tina is who I’m meant to be with.” He smiles, and I exhale a long stream of air.

  “I’m so happy for you.” Now we’re both smiling. The rough part is over.

  “And what about you? Are you still with her?” he asks.

  “I am with her.” I leave off the word still. That’s a story for another time.

  His smile fades at my admission. He returns to his stoic expression and businesslike formalities.

  “Okay, well, if that’s all, then I guess you should be on your way now.” He gets up from his desk and walks over to the door, opening it for me to leave. “Have a happy holiday.”

  “You too,” I say, stepping out, and the door practically gets shut in my face before I can even say Merry Christmas.

  I walk down the empty hall and return to where my belongings are and check my phone. There’s a missed text from Jenn.

  Jenn: How did it go?

  I think carefully before answering. We can discuss it when we see each other, but right now I don’t want to say anything that may ruin her holiday.

  Me: It was tough, but it went well.

  Jenn: You didn’t mention me, did you?

  Me: No, not a word.

  Jenn: It really went okay?

  Me: Yes, everything’s good.

  I say “good,” but the truth is, I’m not so sure.

  The Whiskey Engagement

  “She’s here!” Remi announces the moment I walk in the door and then forces everyone to immediately go to the dining room and take our seats at the table that hasn’t even been set yet.

  Henry takes the seat next to me, but his attention is on Tina, seated at his other side, making it hard for me to gauge his mood.

  “Go ahead. You start.” Remi giggles at Adam, overly giddy and fired up, even by Remi standards.

  “Four years ago, I went on a blind date with this beautiful girl who was so out of my league,” he starts.

  “And now we’re engaged,” Remi bursts out, interrupting the story and flipping her hand up to show us the diamond on her ring finger. “Ahhhhh!”

  I quickly jump up from my seat to run over and hug her. Mom reaches her first, so I hug Adam instead.

  “Congratulations. Why didn’t you tell me you had a ring?” I ask, still in shock.

  “I wanted it to be a comp
lete surprise. No one knew.” He laughs. My mom and I switch places and I wrap my arms tightly around my best friend.

  “I was absolutely fucking shocked. I thought he was getting me the new iPhone.” Remi pulls back, but we still remain locked in our hug. “You know you’re my maid of honor, right?”

  “I better be,” I joke, and we laugh. “You’re going to be my sister.”

  “I know. I can’t believe how amazing this all is. And I can’t believe that he pulled it off without me knowing.”

  “That is quite a feat. Congratulations.” Henry walks over and shakes Adam’s hand. “Good for you being smart enough to keep the ring a secret. No chance for her to run away before you popped the big question.”

  In the excitement, his comment gets lost on the people around us. But not me. I hear it and know exactly what prompted him to say it. Sasha said things were “good” before, but I knew that was just a little too good to be true.

  Remi moves over to my dad, Tina in line right behind him, and I step over to where Henry has retreated to the back corner.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  “Nothing you need to be concerned about.” He has a drink in his hand, and he takes a generous sip. “Whiskey. The good stuff.” He jostles his hand, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.

  I am completely freaking concerned.

  “Is everything okay with Tina?” I press, having to pretend.

  “I want to believe so.” He runs his free hand through his thick hair. “I actually did get her the new iPhone for Christmas.”

  “Is work okay?” I think, searching for a way to bring up Sasha without it being obvious. “Is the new design stuff working out?”

  “There may be some issues with the renovation.” His jaw sets. “We may need to go in a new direction with the interior design company.”