Chapter 38

Graham

I don’t usually go bar-hopping, but after I get a text message from Sarah, asking me if she can pick the rest of her stuff up from the cabin, I need a drink. The last time I was at the bar, I was dressed as Santa and about to meet the woman of my dreams. It’s strange how quickly things can change — how they can get better and then worse again.

The place I go for my drink opens early and stays open late. They have happy hour drinks, good food and fast service. These are the things I need right now.

When I walk into the bar, it’s filled with people, and the atmosphere is cheery. It doesn’t match my mood, but this is exactly what I need — a reason to forget. I’m tired of sitting by myself, waiting for Sarah to reach out to me. When she messaged me today, it was just more of the same, when I was hoping for something else. Of course, why would it be different? When I went to see her at the school where she works, she hid from me in the restroom. That sends a clear enough message to any man, even one as stubborn as me.

I consider ordering a bottle of something strong, but that would make me look desperate. Sure, I am desperate, but I don’t need the world to know. So, I order a whiskey and tell the bartender I don’t want my glass to run dry. The first glass does nothing for me. The second glass makes me think that maybe there is a little bit of hope. When I’m on my third glass, someone claps me on the shoulder.

“You’re drinking that whiskey like it’s water,” Joe says, sitting down next to me.

“Are you following me?” I joke.

Joe chuckles. “Your jokes have always been shit when you drink.” He orders himself a whiskey, too. “So, are you only drinking whiskey, or are you up for some shots? Unless it’s a school night.”

“I don’t think school nights ever stopped me, even when I had school.”

Joe laughs and orders us two tequilas. We throw them back, and I wave for another. Tequila is a surefire way to get drunk.

That’s much better. The alcohol burns through my veins, making me feel light and airy, and suddenly, all my problems are farther away. This is what I was looking for.

Joe and I joke around, talking shit and drinking more. I’m not sure if Joe is getting drunk, he seems to be quite on top of things, but I don’t care. When I arrived, I worried about what others would say. Now, I don’t care that I might be hanging on the bar like a cartoon drunk. I’m just holding myself up, I tell myself.

“So, what have you been doing with yourself lately?” I ask Joe.

“You’re kidding, right?” Joe asks. “It was Christmas. I’ve been huddled up with my family like everyone else. Where have you been?”

I shrug. Right, Christmas. How can I forget?

“I guess I was just cooped up. In my cabin outside of town. With a woman.”

Joe whistles through his teeth. “There’s the Graham I know and love. I thought it was strange that you rejected that woman at the bar that night. You were just waiting for better things to come along, weren’t you?” Joe laughs, but I don’t find it funny.

“Something better came along, all right. And then she fucked right off again. Now I’m here, drinking like an asshole in the bar alone.”

Joe raises his eyebrows. “I’m not going to point out that I’m here. Obviously, this woman has you all twisted up. What did she do?”

“It wasn’t her. It was me.” Joe probably doesn’t want to hear the sad story about how I messed up my love life, but I’m drunk, and he decided to join me. “But you should have seen her, Joe. She was everything — beautiful, funny, clever — you’ve never met a woman like this. And I had her, man. I had her right here.” I hold up my hand as if I’m holding onto something. “And now she’s gone.”

“Wow,” Joe says. “I’ve never heard you speak about a woman like that. In fact, I’ve never heard you speak about a woman at all. Usually, it’s just a hit-and-run, right? Fuck them and get out?”

I nod my head. “That’s exactly what it was like before. It was easier not to get attached. The women I was with weren’t worth it anyway. But this one…” I sigh. “There’s nothing I can do about it. She wants nothing to do with me.”

“I’m not going to ask what you did. We’re men. We fuck up. But if you’re really that serious about her, go after her.”

I laugh bitterly. “Didn’t you just hear me? She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Joe shakes his head. “Look, the way you’re painting it for me, she’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of girl. Those don’t come along often, and if you don’t sweep her off her feet, someone else will. Trust me, if you know she’s a good thing, someone else will, too.”

“That’s not what I want to hear,” I say. I’m getting angry. Not at Joe, at but myself, at the truth he is speaking.

“You’re drunk, Graham. Listen to what I’m saying. Go after her. Get her back.”

My anger fades, and I realize what he said to me. Yes, I am drunk. But not drunk enough to forget that I’ve broken whatever we could have had.

“I can’t,” I say. “You don’t understand. I really fucked up. I lied to her, man. I let her believe one thing when the opposite was true. I mean, I wasn’t trying to trick her or anything. It all just happened. But that doesn’t make it any less wrong.”

Joe shakes his head. “I still don’t want to know what you did. But if you love someone, you can’t let her go. You don’t back down if it’s a woman you love. I mean, you don’t want to look back on this, years from now, and regret that you didn’t do everything you could to get her back.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice screams that Joe is right. He’s less drunk than I am, and his advice is good. But he doesn’t want to know the full story, so he won’t understand. Besides, I’ve had so much to drink, everything looks hopeless. Logically, I know it’s because of the alcohol, but I chose to be this drunk, and I’m going to embrace it. This is what I wanted, after all.

“Thanks, man,” I say to Joe. “I really appreciate it.”

“You’re not going to do it, are you?”

I don’t answer Joe.

He sighs, exasperated. “Look, I know you’re drunk. I hope to God you don’t forget what I said in the morning. You need to think about this, conclude that I’m right, and do something about it. Take it from me, you don’t want to wait too long.”

I try to focus on Joe’s face and find I can’t. All his lines are blurry, but my mind is trying to put two and two together. Joe is talking from experience, but he’s never told me anything about his love life beyond the basics. Maybe there’s a reason. I wave at the bartender for another drink. The man hasn’t been keeping my glass full the way he said he would. He glances at me when I do, like he’s not sure if he should give me more. I don’t get aggressive, I don’t make a scene, I don’t do anything that lets him believe he might be right. After I give him a level stare, he brings me my glass.

“I’m gonna get going, Graham,” Joe says. “Good luck.” He claps me on the shoulder again.

“Thanks for the shots,” I say, but Joe has already left, and I don’t know how long I waited before I answered.

Right now, I’m drowning my sorrows with alcohol. I think Joe gave me good advice, but I’m too drunk to take it. I will file it away for later, though. In the meantime, I have another glass of whiskey to nurse, and seeing that the bar is open late, I have a lot of time to take care of my drink.