Pride & Joie_The Conclusion

by M. E. Carter

  The dresses and suits everyone is wearing makes sense now. “Sounds like they need all the booze they can get if he doesn’t even want to go on vacation with his new bride.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He crosses his legs at the ankles and relaxes into the stool. I guess I passed his test and am not perceived as a threat. “For a minute I thought I was going to have to kick them both out. Wouldn’t that have been a fun way to end a wedding.”

  “Just another reason not to get hitched any time soon. But I’m not here to crash the party. I got a call to come pick up my girlfriend. I’m not sure how she got past you, but from what I hear, she’s pretty smashed.”

  He sizes me up, probably to make sure I’m not telling a story to prey on an innocent victim. I appreciate it, but I’m starting to get antsy that I can’t get to Joie.

  “You Joie’s guy?” he finally asks, narrowing his eyes as he waits for my answer.

  Why does his question not surprise me? Oh yeah. Because she’s a social butterfly. “I see she’s made friends since she got here. How bad off is she?”

  Another chuckle, but he still doesn’t make a move to get up. “She’s gonna be hurting in the morning. She’s a nice lady, though. Funny. Real funny. Got here before the party started so she’s been living it up.”

  “I’ve never seen her drunk before, so this is gonna be an experience for me.”

  He shakes his head in amusement. “Brace yourself. She’s something else.”

  A little more small talk, and he lets me pass, despite it being a closed event. I wander around the room, trying to find her. I see Amanda first. She’s sitting at the bar, playing on her phone, with Joie nowhere around her. Pushing through the wedding guests, I finally see her hands waving in the air in time to the music. Okay, not really in time to the music. She’s very off-beat. But at least she’s sweating out some of the alcohol dancing with some young guy who . . . does he have a tie on his head?

  It’s not hard to get through the crowd of drunks. With as much as they’ve had to drink, I can pretty much knock them out of my way. Soon I’m standing right behind her. She whirls around and stops as soon as she sees me. More like she stumbles, but eventually she stops.

  “Jack!” Launching herself into my arms, she begins kissing all over my face and neck. “I missed you! Did you miss me?”

  Chuckling to myself, I’m already starting to understand what the security guard meant when he said I should brace myself. She normally has an excess of energy, but it seems magnified right now. “It’s been four hours. Who are you dancing with anyway?”

  She pulls away and looks around for the drunkard who got his head tangled up in his tie when getting undressed. “Oh there he is! Ralph! Ralph come here!”

  “Ralph?” I ask under my breath. That’s an unusual name for a kid his age.

  “Like Ralph from Karate Kid?” Joie looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Seriously? Why does no one get this? He looks like he knows karate because of the tie.”

  Honestly, I’m surprised she has enough brain power left to put all that together coherently. I’m even more surprised that “Ralph” comes bounding over.

  “Jack this is Tie Guy. We call him Ralph. And his wife is having a baby, so I’m dancing with him to make sure no one else does because he doesn’t need a floozy to take advantage of him when he’s drunk because his wife is super pregnant, and she’s his everything.” I have my arm around her waist, holding her up so she doesn’t tumble to the floor. She spins and gets so close to me I can smell the booze. Gin. Yeah, she’s headed for a nasty hangover. “Am I your everything, Jack?”

  “You’re my everything, babe.”

  “No really. Am I? Because you’re mine, and I want to be yours, but I never ever want to have another baby, okay? We’ll let Ralph do that.”

  I snicker. “Okay. We can let Ralph have the babies.” Whoever this Ralph guy is, he’s already dancing with someone else. So much for my girlfriend protecting his virtue.

  “Okay. Are you taking me home?” She begins to snuggle into me, but pops back up when she has a thought. “Oh! Where’s Amanda?”

  “She’s right here.” I guide my very drunk girlfriend back over to the bar and sit her on the stool next to her friend. “Exactly how much has she had to drink?” I ask Amanda.

  She drops her phone on the bar, an exasperated look on her face. “Good. You’re here. She’s had four martinis and a shot.”

  “Five,” Joie mumbles into my chest.

  “Four, honey. That last one was a virgin.”

  Joie pushes away from me, looking like a pissed off kitten . . . all snarky and wild, but without the coordination to back it up. “You gave me a virgin? You bitch! And Will,” she yells over the bar, pointing at some bartender, “you’re dead to me!”

  He gives her a questioning look, but quickly turns away to take care of a customer.

  “As you can see,” Amanda says, “we’ve had a lot of fun, but this one has about hit her limit.”

  Joie collapses her body into my chest and begins to fall asleep. “I can see that. I hope she didn’t ruin your night.”

  Amanda has a sudden change in demeanor. “Oh my gosh, no! We had a great time!” She holds up her phone. “My idiot son is just pulling a bunch of bullshit right now, and my husband won’t stop texting me about it. It’s been a total buzzkill. Joie has actually been the most entertaining part of the evening. Well, and Tie Guy,” she says with a laugh.

  “I feel like I’m missing his appeal.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll hear all about it in the car.” She snickers again. “Let’s just say, neither one of them have a filter when they’re drinking. The conversations have been quite entertaining.”

  Joie gets a sudden burst of energy and sits straight up. “Do you like to eat butt?”

  Amanda barks a laugh. “Told ya.”

  I blink and shake my head, trying to wrap my brain around what’s happening. “What?”

  “Do you like to eat butt?” Joie stares off into space as she spews her thoughts. “I’ve never done that before, and I don’t get it. I mean, maybe I do. But I think you’d get sick from the poop and probably pink eye. I don’t know. So, would you eat my butt?”

  Amanda continues laughing as I stand here, completely baffled as to what the hell is going on. So I shrug and answer honestly, whispering in her ear. “I have no desire to eat your butt. But my tongue is ready to lick your pussy, so if we can hurry this up, I’d like to take you home and get on that.”

  “Oh my,” she breathes and then leans toward Amanda. “He won’t eat my butt, but he’s gonna eat my other things.”

  My head drops as I try not to laugh. Amanda isn’t trying as hard as I am. In fact, I'm pretty sure she might fall on the floor, she’s laughing so hard.

  “I think that’s my cue to get you outta here,” I finally say. Joie seems to have other plans as she melts into me again. I wouldn’t be surprised if she actually falls asleep in the middle of all this noise. “Amanda, do you need a ride, too?”

  She shakes her head and waves over the bar tender. “Nah. I cut myself off when I realized she needed to kill brain cells way more than I did.”

  I grimace. “She’s still that stressed, isn’t she?”

  She shrugs. “Do you blame her? The woman is a control freak, and she’s had a tremendous amount of stress thrown at her in a very short amount of time. She’ll get there. It’s just going to take her a minute to get back into her comfort zone.”

  “Yeah, I hope I can help with some of that.”

  The bartender drops a black check folder in front of Amanda and looks at me rubbing my hand up and down Joie’s back before turning back to her. “Does Joie know that guy?”

  She nods. “That’s the boyfriend she’s been talking about all night.”

  He holds his hand out to me. “I’m Will. She’s gonna need some aspirin, a lot of water, and maybe even a mimosa in the morning to get rid of the headache.”

  “She made fr
iends fast, didn’t she?” I ask no one in particular as I shake his hand.

  “That’s our Joie. She’s not shy.” Amanda tosses a few twenties in the folder and hands it back to Will. “Keep the change. And thanks so much for everything.”

  He winks at her. “My pleasure. You guys come back any time. I had more fun tonight than usual.”

  “Will!” Joie yells and pops up again. Her ability to regain random comprehension is impressive.

  “Yo!” Will responds. “What’s up? You still feeling good?”

  “Yeah.” She nods so hard her hair flies in her face. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Will, do you eat butt? Is this like a generational thing?”

  Gotta love the bartender who has fielded so many random conversations at his job that he doesn’t even skip a beat. “I’ve done it. It’s not my fav, but she seemed to like it okay. And yes, in my observations as an almost thirty something, it’s gaining popularity. Particularly on the college campuses.”

  Amanda grimaces and Joie puts her hands over her ears. “Ack! I don’t need to know that! My son goes to a college campus! I can’t look at anyone in my study group again!”

  Will shrugs. “She asked.”

  “That she did,” I agree, trying to really hard not to remember how many mouth pieces I’ve picked up in a college locker room over the years. “Are you ladies ready to go?”

  “Yep,” Amanda says as she pops off the stool. “I need to get home and deal with my ridiculous child.”

  “That bad, huh?” I help Joie stand and situate her under my arm so I can help guide her to the car.

  “Who knows? My husband seems to freak out over every little thing and wants to jump right in and fix it. My theory is, spend the night in jail one time and you’re less likely to get arrested for peeing on the side of a church and public intoxication again.” We walk past the security guard who nods in agreement with her statement as he holds the door open for us. “How we choose to discipline him has been a fundamental disagreement in our marriage since the day he was born. Obviously the inconsistency has done wonders for his ability to make good decisions as an adult.”

  We walk Amanda to her car and make sure she gets settled. She thanks me for coming to pick Joie up so she can go straight home and calm her husband down. I like Amanda. As we head to my truck, I make a mental note to tell Joie I’d be happy to get her and her husband seats to a home game. Maybe we can do dinner afterward. I’m curious if they’re polar opposites on more than just discipline issues.

  “I love you, Jack,” Joie mumbles as I help her into the truck. And by help, I mean lift her up and set her down. Good thing she’s tiny.

  “I love you, too, babydoll.” Wiping a stray hair off her forehead, I kiss her quickly and seat belt her in. “You can go to sleep. I’ll make sure we get home safe.”

  “Okay.” She never opens her eyes, just leans back and begins to snore gently. She’d better enjoy the rest now. Tomorrow is going to be brutal.

  I would open my eyes, but if the pounding in my head is any indication of what’s to come, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle the light.

  Hangovers in my twenties were pretty bad. But this . . . wow. I don’t know what happened when I hit forty, but this is something else. Something worse. The pain itself might not actually be worse, but I definitely crossed the line from buzzed to hurting-in-the-morning a lot faster than I used to. Did Amanda say they gave me a virgin martini at one point? I’ll have to thank her later.

  Trying to roll over so my back is facing the window, I groan. It’s going to be a rough day. Thank goodness there’s nothing pressing on the agenda. As much as I’d like to get up and clean, I’m almost positive it will make me hurl, and mopping up morning-after vomit is not on my to-do list.

  A warm hand brushes some hair off my face, and lips press gently to my forehead. “Good morning, sunshine. Are you awake?”

  “I think I’m dead.” The words come out like a groan, and he laughs. How rude for him to be laughing at my pain.

  I hear him rooting around on the bedside table. “You’d be feeling worse if it weren’t for the aspirin and bottle of water you drank before bed.”

  “I don’t think it worked.”

  “With as drunk as you were, maybe not. Can you sit up? I have more medicine for you.”

  I take a deep breath and use all my strength to get into a sitting position. Jack has to help me because my muscles are apparently all still asleep. Finally peeling my eyes open, I have to squint to see anything. The blinds are closed and the light is off, but it’s still very much daytime. Ugh. This is going to be a long day.

  Jack hands me two pills and a glass with orange juice in it. “Here. This will help.”

  It takes longer than normal to get the pills down because I have to move so slowly, but I finally complete the task and lean back against the headboard, sighing. “Remind me never to drink that much again.”

  Jack laughs and sprawls out on the bed next to me, his head resting on his hand. “Sad thing is, you didn’t even have that much. You’re just a lightweight.”

  “You’re lucky I’m a cheap date.”

  I feel the rumble of the vibrations from his chest when he laughs quietly. He rubs my thigh, which feels really, really good compared to the rest of me. I’m throbbing all over—my head, my shoulders, even my feet. It’s like I can feel my heartbeat over my entire body. I also notice a slight shake in my hand when I bring the glass to my lips. The small sip tastes funny, but I’m not sure if it’s the juice or my cotton mouth.

  “Is this straight orange juice?”

  “Mimosa,” Jack says. “Hair of the dog will thin your blood a bit and help you feel better.”

  I nod my head in appreciation and take another sip. He continues rubbing my leg. This is what Jack does. He takes care of me. He’s not perfect. But he loves me more than anyone in the entire world. I know I’ve been taking his imperfections personally instead of focusing on the perfect way he loves me. And I need to own up to it.

  “I’m sorry, Jack.” I open my eyes as wide as my headache will let me, which isn’t much. “I’ve been a real pain to be around lately.”

  He shakes his head in protest. “You haven’t been a pain to be around. Last night was a little rough, but even then, you weren’t a pain.”

  I try to think back to last night, but there’s not much there. “I don’t mean about last night. I mean for a few weeks now. I guess I’m so used to having my own space and having things exactly the way I like that I haven’t exactly been welcoming in my home. In our home.”

  Jack sits up and leans next to me against the headboard, grabbing my free hand to hold it. “Joie, honey, you are a control freak.”

  “I am not.” I try hard to protest, but it comes out much weaker than I intend.

  “You are,” he argues. “You like things to be done in a particular order. You don’t like change very much. And you certainly like being right smack in the middle of certain things when they do change.” I start to protest, but he cuts me off before I can say anything. “There’s nothing wrong with those things. They’re part of who you are, and I love who you are. But I think Charlie coming back, and there’s nothing you can do about it, has thrown you for a loop.”

  He’s got me there. I hate that Isaac went to Jack before me. I hate that I have no say in whether or not Charlie gets to see my son. I hate that I don’t even have a right to know what Isaac’s decision is. Letting go and trusting Isaac to make his own decisions about his father is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do as a mother. I wasn’t expecting that.

  “Add onto that, your biology class has been more fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants than you like,” Jack continues. “So when you come home, you want things neat and organized, and I’m not that guy.”

  I lean my head on his shoulder. “You’re right. About all of it. And you’re right . . . you’re not that guy. But I love the guy you are.”

  He leans over and kisses the top of my head. �
�I’m trying really hard to be better about the mess. It’s weird because I don’t see it. Not like I ignore it. I just don’t see it.”

  “How can you not see it? When I walk in, the first thing I see is how messy the room is.”

  He shrugs, causing my head to move, and I groan in response. “Oh sorry,” he apologizes. “When I first walk in, I don’t see the overall room. I see the path to the kitchen. I guess it’s like tunnel vision.”

  I giggle just a little. The mimosa and aspirin must be working. “You tunnel-vision to the fridge, don’t you?”

  The movement of his cheeks when he smiles can be felt against my hair. “I do. I don’t understand why, but it’s like my brain can only focus on one task at a time, and that task is nourishment. But I’m going to make an effort to look around the room and really see it from now on.”

  “I appreciate that. And I’m going to work on letting it go. Yes, I like my organized, clean space. But if it comes between clean and organized or a happy relationship, I choose you.”

  He pats my leg and kisses the top of my head again. “If you feel up to it, why don’t you go brush your teeth, because your breath smells terrible.” My eyes widen, and I immediately clap my hand over my mouth. Jack just laughs. “Stop. It’s fine. I just figured you might want to get rid of the gross taste and freshen up a bit. I’m making eggs and bacon to help sober you up.”

  “You’re so good to me.”

  He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, even though to me, it really is. Kissing me one more time, he saunters out of the room and leaves me to slowly peel myself out from under the sheets. It takes a few minutes to finally get myself into the bathroom. Yeah. My binge drinking days are definitely over.

  Twisting the water faucet on, I glance in the mirror. What catches my attention isn’t the black eye makeup smeared all over my face, although I make a mental note to fix that quickly, it’s what is stuck to the mirror. A bright pink sticky note with: Clean the toothpaste out of the sink written on it hangs before me. He made himself a note to remember?