Theo

Whisky is not my friend

 

It’s so cliché, but I got drunk last night to wallow in my grief and stupidity after Joey left me with my proverbial dick in my hands.

Now it’s past eleven a.m. and I’m hungover and still unshowered.

Slowly moving through the apartment, careful not to make any sudden moves or loud noises, I slip on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, grabbing Woody’s leash and heading out the door. I’m hoping the fresh air will do me some good.

As soon as I step into the hallway, Woody goes nuts, yipping his loud, obnoxious high-pitched bark. I shut the door and hold my head with my free hand, willing the headache away.

“Shh, Woods. Give a guy a break,” I mutter and when I turn I’m confronted with the cause of Woody’s over-exuberance.

Joey is at the top of the stairwell about to head down the stairs. She looks absolutely ravishing. Her strawberry blonde curls are tied back into some swirly bun low on her neck, a few strands loosely hanging around her face.

She takes my breath away and I have to hold myself back from reaching for her.

She’s dressed in a floral summer sundress, strappy sandals adorning her feet and a cute fedora sitting askew on top of her head.

She flashes me the briefest of smiles, but I can see the strain and the tightness of her grip on the stair banister.

“Good morning. You look beautiful,” I lamely acknowledge.

Joey tips her head, as if she has no idea how truly gorgeous she is. She acknowledges with a shrug.

“Heading to brunch with some friends.”

I nod, but a wave of jealousy sweeps through me. She should be going to brunch with me had I not fucked it up so royally last night.

Instead of apologizing or asking if she has time later to get together like I should, I simply clam up.

She gives me a terse gaze. “You don’t look so good. Are you okay?”

Rubbing my hand over my temples, I feel the stickiness of sweat dotting my forehead and the clamminess of my hands, all the whisky seeping out of my pores. The headache sits behind my eyes from the after-effects of the whisky. I close my eyes and tell her the truth.

“Honestly, I drank a little too much last night.”

“By yourself?” she says, and then seems to catch herself, as if she’s revealed too much. “I mean, did you go out after we, uh…after I left?”

It dawns on me then that she might think I went running back to Alyssa. That I’m such a fucking asshole that I’d leave her and go out with my ex-girlfriend to try and rekindle things.

My feet push me in her direction, closing the gap of space between us. I want to take her face in my hands, pull her into me and bury myself in her breezy, floral scent.

Instead, I simply cover her hand with mine, relishing in the warmth radiating from her dewy-fresh skin.

“I finished off Pat’s Irish whisky by myself. I guess I’ll have to replenish his stash before he returns home otherwise he might stage an intervention.”

This gets her to crack a small smile but not enough to reassure me she’s okay.

Woody whines at my feet and I know I don’t have much time before he pees all over the hallway floor.

“I gotta get him outside. Can I walk you outside?”

“Sure.”

When we hit the bottom step, I blurt, “Can I see you when you get back later?”

Her eyes dart away, toward the outer door, before turning her gaze back to me. I drink in her features, hoping to see a trace of the fun-loving girl I’ve gotten to know over the last few weeks.

 

“Maybe,” she suggests, her voice brittle with the lie that passes through her lips.

We head out the front door. The cool morning has already passed us by and the humidity in the air clings to our skin as soon as we hit the sidewalk.

Woody yanks at the leash with his long, wiry-haired body and my arm flies out jerking me toward the patch of grass where he squats and pees. Joey remains immobile for a moment, sliding on a pair of oversized sunglasses and adjusting her purse.

The air between us crackles with uncertainty, remorse and the possibility of redemption. I don’t want to let her walk away without having a chance to explain myself, but I can’t seem to find the words that would make any sense to her.

Looking back at my relationship with Alyssa, she was like this anchor around my neck. If you’re a boat, an anchor serves the purpose of keeping you in place so you don’t drift off into the wide-open water. An anchor on a human is an impediment that can choke you, drag you down and drown you.

Joey has been my buoy. My life-preserver. The oxygen I’ve needed to take that breath after being held down underwater for so long now.

She’s resuscitated me and filled me with life again. But somehow, I can’t spit the words out. And I’m afraid I’ll never have the chance again. That if she walks away, the time we’ve shared this summer will evaporate just like the humidity on my skin.

“Bye, Theo. Bye Woody.” She squats down and rubs behind Mr. Woodcock’s ears, and his little butt wiggles with his reciprocated love.

My heart wiggles a little, too.

“Have a good time today. Talk to you later.”

I can’t see her eyes behind the glasses, but she stares for a moment before she walks off, waving behind her. My gaze doesn’t leave her as I watch her dress sway in the wind, her hips sashaying in a sexy taunt, calling my name.

One stupid moment last night has lead me to the place where I’m now watching the girl I have fallen for walk away without a backwards glance.

And I need to figure out a way to win her back.

****

“How’s it going, Theo?”

I haven’t spoken with Pat for over a week, as he’s been traveling between Shanghai and Hangzou, one city I’ve never even heard of. I know, I’m not much of a world traveler and never paid too much attention in high school Geography.

When Alyssa and I were together, we took a long-weekend trip down to Cozumel, Mexico, mainly because it was a gift from her father. We stayed in one of those highly-sought after huts on stilts on the Gulf of Mexico and it was perfect. Except for the huge fight we got in.

It’s so easy for me to look back now and realize how difficult Alyssa was to be with. She was never happy. No matter what I tried or how much I placated her, she was just a very unhappy soul. If I was one of those people who could read aura, I’d see all the black negative energy hanging around her.

Completely unlike Joey’s bright fluid light. A woman, who even during her toughest days at the end of her teaching year, still could find humor in life and laugh at the chaos.

It makes me curious as to how well she and I would travel together? Where would she want to go? Has she ever wanted to live anywhere else? I never had a chance to ask her.

“Hey Pat. Good to hear from ya, man. How’s the China experience?’

He sighs. “I’m ready to come home. I’ve had my fill of hot and horny Asian men and their delicacies.”

I snort laugh at his word choice.

“Their food, bro. Not their male delicacies,” he joins me in laughter. “I just want to be back in my own bed, snuggle with Mr. Woodcock and enjoy some of my favorite whisky.”

I clear my throat, wondering if I should tell him about having to replace his bottle before he returns.

Nah, he’ll never know.

“And how’s the play coming along? I wish I could be there for opening night. But I may be able to squeak in the Sunday matinee if my flight arrival is as planned. I’m so excited to see my Joey-girl in your play. I can’t believe you got her to do that. Fist bump, man.”

I chuckle but it comes out more like a grumble, and Pat hears the tension.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay with Joey?”

I debate telling him, not certain if he knows anything that’s going on between Joey and me. I haven’t mentioned anything, but maybe she has, since I know they’re close.

“Things with the play are good. Aside from a few minor hiccups that come along with the territory, it’s going great. I couldn’t have asked for a better cast and crew. And Joey…she’s fucking phenomenal. She’s a real natural.”

I can hear the pride in Pat’s response. “That’s my girl. I knew she was destined for bigger things. She has too much charisma and joie de vivre to be stuck inside a classroom in a job she doesn’t enjoy.” He accentuates this with a French lilt.

“That’s French, not Chinese, ya know.”

He harrumphs. “I’m flipping you off over the phone.”

Laughing, I’m reminded why Pat and I are such good friends. He’s always been the life of the party and has a great sense of humor and is a solid friend.

Pat continues. “But aside from that, I hear a reticence in your voice. Is everything really okay?”

He’s also very perceptive.

“Shit,” I grumble, not sure of how much to divulge. “I don’t know how much I can say without breaking confidence, but Joey and I…we grew close.”

Silence.

More silence.

And then a loud outburst. “You fucked her?”

I can’t tell if this is angry, protective Pat, or just a surprise.

“It’s not like that. Chill out.”

“She is not a fucking rebound girl, Theo. Joey’s special and a one-of-a-kind woman.”

“I know that, Pat. Believe me, I know that. Joey’s amazing. I fell for her hard and then last night, I fucked it up.”

Big sigh over the line and then his words all blur together. “Whatdidyado?”

Yeah, time to fess up.

“We ran into Alyssa. I acted like an idiot and now it feels like it’s over between us. She wants a break to see where things go.”

If I could go back and rewind to last night, I know I would’ve done everything differently.

But life isn’t like that. We have to move past our mistakes and find ways to learn from them so they don’t happen again.

Pat’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do…”