Barry resists, glaring at Tom. “No no, I'm good. Yeah. I'm fine.” As I make him keep walking, he blows Tom a kiss.
Jennifer says a quiet, “Sorry, Barry.”
“Don't fucking apologize to him!” orders Tom.
“Okay, okay,” I call out, “Arthur, another song?” my hand on Barry to lead him inside for some much needed space.
We’re out of coffee.
Behind me, Abby asks them to stay, but I don’t hear the rest of their conversation as the door shuts on our apartment.
I ask, locking eyes with him, “You alright, Barry?”
“I’m fine. I am!” He blinks at me, tugs his arm back. “I’m good, Max, I am.”
“Okay.”
“I’m good!”
We stare at each other until I’m satisfied he understands I won’t take more of his shit tonight.
He’ll keep it together.
I’m not worried.
Mom is.
She’s cleaning up our kitchen, scrubbing away in one of her best dresses. This is how I know she’s stressed out, cleaning her go-to. Every party we’ve had that Mom’s attended, she’s stayed to the end to help us restore our home to what it was. But we’re nowhere near the party ending, and she’s feverishly rinsing out glassware.
I touch her upper back, voice low, “Ma, you okay?”
So Barry can’t hear, she whispers, “He went too far.”
“He’s good now. Don’t worry.”
The sponge pauses in her hand. Mom throws me an I-hope-so look. I pat her back, and reach for a bottle of my best red I left here on the counter for the right time.
Now is it.
Behind me I hear the beginning of a new song from Arthur, his guitar soothing me and everybody. Man, that guy can play. And his voice! I wish I had a voice like that.
Abby walks up behind me, her body really warm as she looks over my shoulder with a sexy smile in her voice. “What have you got there?”
“Seghesio, 2012.” I lift to show her the bottle.
Mom snatches it from my hands, excited but jokingly saying, “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”
We all want to do anything to get this party back on a livelier tract.
Especially Abby who pulls me close and slides her arms around my neck, smiling up at me. “I miss you.”
I murmur, “Mmm, you smell good.”
From out of nowhere Dad appears, interrupting us, “Tom wants to bet me the Falcons will win this weekend.”
“What?” I balk, “That's crazy. Take it!” as Lorna walks in, too.
Dad grins, “Oh, I did! You should get in on this.”
A loud crash scares the shit out of us and we jump out of the way of breaking glass.
Oh no.
No no no.
That vase, shattered on our kitchen tile, used to belong to Abby and Lorna’s mom. The heirloom is one of the last things she owns from them. Everything burned in the fire that took both parent’s lives.
Getting Abs to trust me when we first started dating was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
She was so independent, so afraid of letting me in. Terrified if she loved me I would leave.
They’d gone to her friend’s birthday party, Lorna tagging along to be with the ‘big girls.’
When at the end of the party, their parents didn’t show, the friend’s mother drove them home to find their house in flames, fire trucks outside. Abby sprang from the car, ran for the house, and one of the firemen caught her as she screamed for her Mom and Dad. Her friend’s mother held Lorna who, as the story goes, was covered in chocolate cake. They’d schemed to steal a couple slices for later, since she was basically ignored and could get away with it. When Lorna saw the fire, she crushed them in her little hands. The fireman told Abby it was too late. She shoved him away from her, grabbed Lorna from the woman like she knew her baby sister was her child now to raise.
I can’t imagine that kind of loss.
My folks and I are very close — I’m an only child. I know I’m lucky. Hell, I saw how Barry’s parents ignored his existence and what that did to his self-esteem.
When I heard the story, my heart broke for Abs and I understood why she was so hard to get close to.
Kept working at it.
Had to.
The night I met her I knew.
So I was patient.
My confidence was unwavering when Abby pulled away from me after we’d begun to spend time together.
She wasn’t just playing hard to get.
She was leaving.
The idea of loving me was too scary for her. I weathered some intense shit back then, but I kept reminding myself of what she’d lost, what she’d seen, how the smell of ashes was still in her nose every time she got stressed out. I reminded myself of that every time she pulled away.
Finally, the last time she backed out of a date, about eight months into our relationship, I told her I wasn’t going anywhere and she could either keep hurting me or cut it the fuck out.
She burst into tears. “I’m hurting you?”
“Yeah! You are.”
“But you’re always so happy!”
“I’m smiling because I’m with you. But in here,” I poked my heart. “You’re doin’ a number on me, Abs.”
She crumbled into my arms and wouldn’t stop crying for what seemed like years. And I guess it was years, the scar tissue peeling away as I whispered that I loved her over and over and over. “I’m never going to leave.”
We’re all staring at the broken vase.
“I’m so sorry Abs.”
My wife is a gem. “It's just a thing.”
But Lorna can’t do that. “It was our mother’s.”
Barry knows the history. So do Mom and Dad. He winces, “Oh shit. I'm so sorry!”
I glance to Abby as she says again, “It's fine. It's just 'a thing.’”
God I love her.
But Lorna says, “Well done, Grace.”
Barry snaps, “Can you give me a break for once in your fucking life?”
My skin prickles, and I shake my head, “I think I'm about done with this,” motioning to the door, “Let's go, Barry. I'll make sure you get home okay.”
“No, I’m fine!” He throws his hands up, looking pathetic, “I promise I won't touch anything.”
A couple quick strides is all it takes for me to get to where he’s leaning against our counter, clamp my hands on his shoulders, and spin him around. If Abby can take the breaking of her truly precious vase and her best friend almost ditching an awkward yet very important evening, I can get rid of the out of control friend who’s here because of me. “Barry, I love you, but when you get like this…”
As I spin him around he points at Lorna, “If she weren't such a fucking bitch!”
I hold his eyes, as everyone watches us. “If you weren't so wasted, it wouldn't matter what Lorna did.”
Barry glares at me, unconvinced. He scans the faces of Dad, Mom, and pauses on Abby, doing a double-take at her patience. Not once has Abs ever been rude or sarcastic to Barry, even as his drinking as become worse over the years. He loves her, respects this is her home, and now he feels like a jerk.
“Fine. If I gotta go…” he walks to the fridge, “I’m taking a beer with me.”