by MK Schiller
“I’m so happy for you, man,” Tony said, patting me on the back, acting like Molly wasn’t even there.
“We need to celebrate. We’ll get shots,” Molly said, gesturing for the waitress.
“I don’t think shots are a good idea, Molls,” I coaxed.
“It’s a fucking great idea,” Tony boomed. It was like he was taking enjoyment in my torment.
Before I knew it, three shots of snakebite were on the table. It was appropriately named because like the bite of a snake, the drink, composed of tequila with lime juice, snuck up on you. “Keep them coming,” Molly said.
“I’m only doing one,” I replied, taking a wedge of lime from the plate.
“Don’t worry, I’ll do the rest,” she said, running her fingers over the rim of the shot glass.
I sighed before taking my shot. “Wouldn’t you rather have a B52 or lemon drops or something? This is pretty hard liquor here.”
“Pussy drinks,” Tony announced. “I love a gal who can drink,” he said, clinking his shot with Molly’s. She smiled at him like they were suddenly best friends.
The waitress brought more shots. Molly did them all. I breathed a sigh of relief when she accepted an invitation to play pool with a tall guy in a suit. Maybe the distraction would help.
“She’s pissed,” Tony stated.
I rolled my eyes. “No shit, Doc. I understand she might not be happy about it, but she really needs to calm the fuck down. I was completely honest with her.”
“Girls only hear what they want to. You tell them you don’t like them that way, and they hear, ‘I need you to change me.’ Especially that one,” he said, cocking his thumb in Molly’s direction.
“Why do you say that?”
“Bro, you’re kind of a dumbass. Never tell a girl about your unrequited love. They’ll take it as an invitation to heal you of said ailment.”
“Yeah, you got a point.” Tony was right. I’d only told her because she hadn’t understood why I was so distant. Instead of making my intentions clear, though, I think my admission only blurred the line between us. Molly was a nurse too, so she was a healer by trade. She was really a very sweet girl when she wasn’t acting all jealous crazy. She just wasn’t meant to be my girl. “She’s great, she’ll meet someone.”
“She doesn’t want to meet anyone, Cal. She’s in love with you. And you’re such a fucking nice guy that you’re ripping the bandage off so slow that the scab reopens. You need to rip that bitch off.”
“Who would have thought you were such a philosopher. Not tonight, though. She seems fragile tonight. Besides, she’s on the express train to Drunktown. I might need to drive her home.”
Tony smirked, combing his fingers through his black hair. “What would your girlfriend say about that?”
“I don’t know. On second thought, maybe you should drive her home.”
“Can’t. I have my motorcycle and only one helmet. Besides, I’m not as good of a guy as you. If I take her home, I’m going to tap her for sure.” He jerked his head toward Molly, playing pool, being obscenely loud and drinking shots like they might reenact Prohibition any moment.
“Jesus, Tony. How are we friends again?”
“I guess we bonded over football and romantic tragedies.”
“Yeah, guess so. How’s your cabin renovations going?”
Tony lit up as he always did when we talked about his cabin in the secluded woods of Holly Oak. He was a do-it-yourselfer like me, and often sought my advice on how to go about certain repairs. I had never seen it, but we were talking about going fishing there soon, since he also had lake access. Unfortunately, those plans would need to be put on hold longer. I was having a hard enough time leaving Sylvie for a whole night let alone a weekend. Maybe she’d want to come. It would be nice to fish with her again.
Molly came up behind me, leaning over my shoulder, setting another shot in front of me. “Do you remember when you licked tequila off my body? Here’s a pop quiz for you, professor…where did I put the lime?”
I blushed, a mixture of embarrassment and unease. Molly was never this vocal. “I think you’re cut off, honey.”
“You don’t have to worry about me.” She sat down next to me.
“So what’s she like?” Tony asked. Since Molly was between us I couldn’t easily kick him this time.
“She’s nice,” I replied lamely, not knowing what else to say not to make Molly angrier. I was really questioning why I’d ever thought it was a good idea for us to remain friends.
“Caleb, I thought you were a writer. Surely you can do better than that,” she said, taking the shot. Her words started to slur and stick together without the appropriate pauses.
“Yeah, give us more. What does she look like? Do you have a picture?” Tony inquired.
I didn’t have one and I realized that was something I needed to fix right away, but at this time, I was damn happy not to have one to share. “No pictures. She has brown hair and brown eyes.”
Molly huffed. “And all this time, I thought dyeing my hair blonde made me more appealing. I should have just stayed a brunette.”
“Molly, I like your hair.”
“Not enough.”
No, we weren’t talking about hair coloring for sure. Shit.
Tony smirked. “In vino veritas,” he quoted the Latin motto, which also happened to be another Doc Holliday saying, lifting his beer glass. The phrase translated to ‘in wine there is truth’.
“Well…anything else?”
“Damn it, Tony, you sound like my momma. Now shut up and drink your beer.”
The conversation shifted, and Molly left to go finish her game. I turned to Tony. “Stop asking me about Sylvie in front of Molly.”
“Her name is Sylvie?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Fuck.
“No, it’s Sophie Becker. That was a mistake.”
“Calling her by another girl’s name, especially that name, is a sure-as-shit way to get you banned from calling her at all.”
“It was just a mistake. Anyway, here’s the deal. I met her and I feel like everything has fallen into place for me. I love her.”
“You love her after a month?”
“I can honestly say I do. She’s very special to me. The thing is, I really don’t want to hurt Molly by going into any great descriptions so stop being an asshole and bringing it up.”
He lifted his beer to me. “I just want to celebrate the fact that you met a girl who could make you forget about Lenore so easily.”
“It’s not like that.”
“You’re still hung up on Lenore then? Haven’t given up the search?”
I smiled, unable to contain it. “I don’t think I need to look any further. Lenore was a dead spirit who haunted Poe. Sophie Becker is very much alive and she is my everything.”
I looked over at Molly, while Tony started rambling about his cabin. The man she was playing with was a bit grabby and I wanted to make sure his advances were wanted by her. She seemed to be having a good time, sitting in his lap and letting him lean over her when she took a shot, but I was leery. Molly was an adult, but she was also very drunk. I reached to her chair and grabbed her purse, fishing through it.
Tony gaped at me. “So first you break her heart, and now you’re stealing from her?”
“No, I just want an insurance policy that she’ll make it home okay.” I found the item I was looking for and stuffed it into my pocket, placing her purse back quickly.
When I turned to glance once more, I saw Mr Grabby Hands kiss her. It was hard to tell if she was struggling, but either way, it was clear she was inebriated and I needed to step in. “I’m leaving.”
“So soon? I was just going to ask if you wanted to call Sylvie to join us?”
“Yeah, that’s all I need. Let me ask the girl I’m madly in love with to join me for drinks with my ex. No wonder you’re not in a relationship, man.”
“It’s by choice. Like you, I’m holding out.”
&nbs
p; “For what?” I stood up and grabbed Molly’s purse and coat.
“For my Lenore.”
I shook my head, as I made my way to the pool table. “Come on, Molly, I’m taking you home.”
“She’s not done with the game,” Mr Grabby said. I ignored him.
“Molly, I can’t make you leave with me, but I don’t feel comfortable leaving you stranded here.” I doubted Tony would look after her.
Molly stared back and forth between me and Grabby. “I’m going with him,” she replied.
I held out her coat for her. She took her purse from me. “Stay,” Grabby Suit said, clasping Molly’s arm. I noticed his fingernails were buffed to a high manicured shine and his teeth were so bright they looked over-bleached.
“Let go of her,” I warned.
“We’re having a good time. What are you? Her boyfriend?”
“No, I’m her friend and I’m going to make sure she gets home tonight. Y’all can exchange phone numbers and when she’s sober, she can decide if she wants to contact you.”
“Maybe I want to have contact with her tonight,” he said, tightening his hold on her.
“Look, buddy, I don’t want a problem with you. I’ll repeat myself one more time, real nice and slow so you understand what I’m saying. Let. Her. Go.”
He didn’t, challenging me with his sneer.
I seized his wrist in a tight hold, relishing the wince on his face. His fingers unclenched, releasing her. I placed my hand on her back and led her out. I heard his clumsy footsteps behind us. Molly jerked when he stomped his pool stick on the floor, as if he wanted one final stand.
“Y’all leaving so soon?” he asked, exaggerating the Texas twang in my voice. “Y’all white trash running off with y’all’s tails between your legs? That’s good, take that slut out of here. She’s been leading me on all night.”
Oh, hell no.
Molly clutched my arm, but I shrugged her off. I turned as he lifted the pool stick in the air, like he planned on whipping me with it. What an idiot. I knocked it out of his hand as he swung it with one arm, taking a fistful of his shirt in my other hand. I forced him back until I could slam his head against the wall. “You got me all worked up now, you son of a bitch. Think my accent’s funny? If you think I’m trash, then I dare you to take me to the dump. Let me tell you something about the South. We are downright hospitable people. So, if you’re itching for a fight, well, you can call me scratch. And if you feel the need to use a pool stick or any other prop because you don’t want to ruin your fancy manicure, feel free. Personally, I like to use what God gave me.” I slammed his head again.
“So, we’ll go through this one more time ’cause I think you’re a little dim-witted to be challenging a man who’s bigger and smarter than you. I’m warning you once more, if you say another fucking word to me or her, I’m probably going to jail and you’ll be at the hospital. And trust me when I say it’ll be an extended visit for both of us. So, I’d suggest we avoid the theatrics, so I can go home and you can finish your fucking Cosmopolitan or whatever you have in that martini glass that I know is too pink to be gin and vermouth. Do you agree or do you need more convincing?” I cleared my throat, letting all my Texas shine through. “Because like I said, partner, I’m glad to oblige either way.”
Mr Grabby stared at me for a minute. I could see the flicker of emotions on his face, from indignation to fear to surrender. He held up his hands in a giving-up gesture, and I pulled him closer to me. “We’re not done, asshole.” I spun him around to face Molly, holding his hands back. “Apologize to the lady.”
“S…sorry,” he said. I released him with a shove. He stumbled into the pool table.
I took Molly’s arm, leading her toward the exit. Everyone stared at me with jaw-dropping expressions. Tony high-fived me on the way out. “Can’t believe you started a fight in here, Ringo,” he said with a smirk. “I would have helped, but you know I’m a lover not a fighter.”
“Thanks, Doc, but it wasn’t a fight.”
“Then what was it?”
“Me yelling and hitting some asshole’s head against a wall, while he shit his pants. A fight requires two participants.”
Tony’s laughter followed us out of the bar and into the chilly night air.
Once we got outside, Molly hugged me. “Caleb, I knew you cared. I knew you were jealous.”
I released her, trying my best to keep my temper in check. “You did that on purpose?” She stood before me, looking suddenly contrite. “Molly, that was a pretty bitchy thing to do. Let me make this clear for you. I wasn’t jealous, but I wasn’t going to let you go home with a stranger when you’re like this either. What I did in there was born out of concern for you and encouraged by that dickhead and my inability to keep my anger in check. This is me being a friend to you and that’s all.”
Her lower lip quivered, and she ran away from me to her car. I followed behind slowly, trying to give her a moment alone and knowing that I had all the time in the world. Sure, I was pissed at her, but she was my friend, and there was no way I was going to leave a friend behind. She rummaged through her purse then through her pockets, dropping her handbag in the process. I bent down to pick up the scattered contents that lay on the pavement. “Leave me alone. I just need to find my keys.”
“I’m driving you home.”
“I can drive myself. I don’t need anything from you, Caleb.”
“This isn’t debatable.”
“I can’t leave my car here.”
“I’ll drive you in your car and walk back.”
She stopped blindly groping around the cement. “Are you staying the night?” There was a plea in her eyes that was so needy I had to look away.
“No.”
“Then like I said, leave me the fuck alone.”
“Molls, stop this.”
“I just need to find my keys.”
I sighed, reaching into my pockets. I pulled out her keys, twirling the key ring around my finger. She tried to grab them from me, but I closed my fist around them. “Either I’m driving you, calling you a cab or waiting here while one of your other sober friends comes to get you. Your choice.”
I stood up and helped her off the ground. She didn’t answer the question, but walked around to the passenger side. I opened the door for her. “Buckle up,” I said. She didn’t move so I leaned in and pulled her seatbelt over. I was thankful she didn’t take advantage of our situation. This was such a bad idea, but I wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was either.
The ride to her apartment was quiet. I helped her up the stairs and unlocked the door for her. I got aspirin and water ready while she changed. I helped her into bed. “Take these right now,” I said, handing her the aspirin. I held the water glass for her. “It looks like Carrie is home, so I’m going to leave.” Carrie was Molly’s roommate and although it was more of an economical arrangement between them, and they weren’t friends, I knew Carrie would be there if Molly needed her.
Before I stood from the edge of the bed, she grasped my arm. “You know why this sucks so much for me?”
“No, but I assume you’re going to tell me.”
“When you were in love with a ghost I could say there was no way I could compete with that so it was okay. It wasn’t me. It was this built-up figment in your imagination of someone. I could deal with that in a way. But now you tell me you just met a girl and you’re in love, so as it turns out, it fucking absolutely was me.”
“It wasn’t, Molly. You’re great. You’re going to meet someone who can love you like you deserve.”
“What does she have that I don’t have?”
Part of me wondered if I should divulge to Molly that Sylvie and Sophie were one and the same, but in the end, I knew it would do nothing to appease her anger, and only lead to more questions. I swallowed hard, preparing for my answer, not wanting to hurt her anymore tonight. “I plead the Fifth.”
“So you can’t even give me a straight answer like I deserve.”
“I can, but why? Anything I say will only make me sound like a complete asshole, and it will do nothing to satisfy your curiosity.”
She was quiet for a minute, contemplating my statement. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I’m going to go, Molls. I left an empty trash bin by your bed in case you need to throw up.”
I got up to leave and as I neared her bedroom door, her voice halted me once more. “She’s a very lucky girl. You are a good man.”
I turned to her in the dark, embarrassed by her compliment. “Thank you, Molls. Sleep well. We’ll talk later.”
I walked the two miles back to the bar. I considered taking a cab, but I wanted a chance to decompress and think. All my thoughts centered around Sylvie, though. This would be the first night we’d spent apart since she’d come back into my life. I couldn’t sleep without her. I needed to see her. I was on autopilot as soon as I got into my car, heading straight for her place.
Chapter Eighteen
I knocked on the door, several times, but there was no answer. Sylvie might be asleep since it was late, but I wanted to tell her about tonight. It would weigh on my conscience until I did. I knocked more vigorously, feeling a little miffed I didn’t have a key. We had talked about exchanging keys, but we hadn’t done it, and since we were usually together, it hadn’t seemed important. There was still no answer, which was strange since Sylvie wasn’t a heavy sleeper. I doubted she would be out at this time, but I called her cell phone. I heard Mumford & Sons’ I Will Wait coming through the closed door. It was her ringtone for me, and usually made me smile, but tonight the lyrics seemed foreboding. I tried the door, calling her name, but, of course, it was locked.
I suddenly wished I hadn’t reinforced it so much since it would make it difficult to kick it in. I moved as far away as I could in the narrow hallway to get the required momentum. That was when I noticed her doormat was askew. I kicked it out of the way. The feelings of repentance were replaced with rage. There against the beige carpet lay a glinting gold object, shining with no shame, mocking me. A key. She had a fucking key under her doormat. How could she be this stupid?
