“Holy crap. Are we really going to Switzerland? I’ve never been there before.”
She looks happy. I know I am—a deep kind of happiness and satisfaction I haven’t felt for a while. It’s a huge turnaround from how I was feeling an hour ago.
“You’ll love it.”
“I’m sure I will.” She pauses, then adds, “I’d also love to finish our conversation from last night.”
Something else I learned about Chari Atwood, third grade teacher, that I wouldn’t have expected.
She likes to talk dirty.
Luckily, so do I.
“Remind me, tiger, where did we leave off?”
14
Chari
“Happy birthday to you.”
The entire bar finishes singing with a flourish. My brother, never one to shy away from attention, lifts his beer in salute as cheers go up across the room.
Saturday night at The Wheelhouse in Bridgewater. Nothing quite like it.
I feel like I’m in an episode of Cheers. Everyone in this bar does know each other, with a couple of exceptions, and most of us have lived here our whole lives. There’s a special comfort in it. Snow blankets the streets outside, but in here it’s cozy. Joyful.
And I’m trying to live in the moment. Celebrate my brother’s birthday, which is actually tomorrow. Attempt not to look at my phone.
Enzo, as usual, is working at home after sending my brother two tickets to some professional golf tournament for this summer. Devon nearly lost his mind.
Lisa nudges me. “At least pretend you’re having a good time.”
“I am having a good time. I was just thinking of how cool it is that everyone here knows Devon. It’s probably not like this everywhere.”
“If by everywhere you mean New York City,” she says with a slight smirk, “you’re probably right.”
It’s getting harder and harder to pretend life is completely normal. Three weeks ago, I was sitting at this bar, happy as a clam other than the constant cold drafts of air hitting my back. Totally unsuspecting of the freight train that would barrel into my life in the form of Enzo DeLuca.
I can’t stop smiling.
Mom knows about Enzo, and she keeps begging me to tell Devon. Which I totally plan to do, at some point.
“You have that faraway, dreamy look on your face again. As usual.”
I smile into my glass. “I can’t help it.”
“Are you drinking wine?”
I lift up my glass as if to toast her. “Nope.”
“Smart-ass. Since when are you a wine drinker?”
Since Enzo.
“I tried it that night at dinner.”
“You mean the two-thousand-dollar one?”
“Yeah, that one.”
Lisa shakes her head, shoving a drunk guy who stumbles toward us. “I still can’t imagine. Two thousand dollars. For one dinner. It’s insane.”
“Anyway, I really liked the wine I had that night.” I lower my voice even though Devon is too far away to hear, surrounded by friends. “Enzo says the quality matters. I’ve been trying out different kinds, and I really like Riesling. The white wine his company makes is a bit too dry for me. Not sure I’m ready for that yet.”
“Let me taste.”
Lisa doesn’t really drink wine either. She takes a sip and shrugs. “Not terrible.”
Since she’s drinking Angel’s Brew, Lisa is the designated driver, freeing me up to go non-Angel. “Can you imagine? A few years ago, we’d have had to get a ride home.”
Angel keeps adding more products, and people have begun to make it a big part of their party plans. Who’s drinking what? Non-Angel, you aren’t driving. It’s hard to imagine going back to life before the Angel pill.
“Yeah, your boyfriend changed that,” Lisa says.
I snort, a pretty unladylike sound, to be honest.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Really?” Lisa’s brows rise. “Have you or have you not talked to him every day since New York?”
I think back to the last two weeks. “I didn’t talk to him the first few days after. We were just texting at first.”
Lisa rolls her eyes. “Since then?”
And yes, it’s become a routine. During the day, we set a time, usually based on Enzo’s crazy work schedule. And then we video chat before bed. Sometimes just talking, other times . . .
“And you’re going to freaking Switzerland with him.”
“Shhh.”
“You really have to tell Devon.”
“I know, I know. I’m waiting until after his birthday.”
Lisa looks at me like I’m crazy. “What the hell does that have to do with it?”
Well, when she puts it that way . . . still, I persist. “Devon loves his birthday. Mom makes a big deal of it for like two weeks.”
“Yeah, I know. Always wished I could be adopted by her.”
I almost say, But at least you have two parents, and then realize how quickly that will kill the mood. I rarely feel the urge to talk about my nonexistent father, and this is no exception.
“Say the word and she’ll have a month-long birthday celebration for you too.”
Lisa looks pleased by the idea.
“Speaking of your mom, what’s going on with her new boy toy?”
I give her a scathing look.
“Sorry,” she says with a laugh. “I kinda like him.”
She met him last weekend. And sure, I haven’t found any evidence to dispel his image of the ultimate nice guy, but I’m still watching for any missteps.
“Uh-huh,” I murmur.
Lisa stares at me. Hard. I already know I won’t like what comes out of her mouth next.
“I think you may be jaded.”
Here we go.
“Lisa, I’m not jaded. I’ve just never met anyone that nice. There must be something wrong with him.”
“Or not.”
“Yeah, and he’s divorced because he’s the next Mr. Rogers.”
“Geez.” Lisa takes a drink and glances over at one of Devon’s friends. Aaron is a good guy, but he’s not really relationship material. If I had to guess, I’d say Lisa’s on-again, off-again boyfriend is moving toward off-again. I honestly can’t keep up. “You’re tough. But I get it.”
I shoot her a not now look.
“In other news, your phone just buzzed.”
How did I completely forget to look? The thing’s been attached to me for weeks. I snatch it off the bar just as my brother sidles up next to us.
“Whatcha doing?”
He’s more than a little tipsy. Thankfully, Devon is one of those drunks who turns into the life of the party.
“Just talking about how I wish I was in your family and still got big birthday bashes and Easter baskets well into my twenties,” Lisa quips, thankfully taking Devon’s eyes off my phone. If he’d looked down just a second earlier, he would have seen Enzo’s message pop up.
A close call.
I want to text him back, but Devon is hovering over us. It’s not going to happen right now.
“Hey, Aaron,” he calls to his friend as he puts his arms around us. “Did I ever tell you I have two sisters? Aren’t they awesome?”