I had such a fun day with her that I dreaded the ride back to the venue. Leigh had left strict instructions to have all of our purchases delivered the proper rooms. I knew you could do things like that; I just never witnessed it before. When you have money, all things are possible. The day had also been a revelation of the two different worlds we belong to and it left me pondering how two women from two different social classes could remain such good friends. We had started on the same platform and I viewed her as someone more tangible, even though I disliked her at the start, but the walls came down, the claws retracted and the borders were crossed. I’d been distracted by crossing the line from foe to friend that I never really notice the transformation. How Leigh had graduated and been promoted to a higher rank on the social ladder. I was just begining to notice it now.

The last day of any tour is always the craziest. Pranks galore all around, it is a tradition that they have kept since the start of their careers and you can be certain that Nick anticipates this day from the second they hit the road. He aches for this day and sometimes as you already know, he can’t wait and lets a few slip out. It gets harder for him to contain himself the closer we get to the end. It is in those days that I love to watch him, I am reminded so much of Bevis and Butthead during these days. Specifically Beavis, when he is on a sugar rush and becomes the great cornholio asking around for T.P. for his bumhole, trembling and shaking from a sugar high; that’s Nick, yearning for the last day so he can fully unleash the prankster that lives within him and AJ’s doesn’t stay too far behind either. He bears his share of responsibility to the most insane night. I’ve quietly dubbed those two as Beavis and Butthead- AJ’s Butthead of course. Leigh’s the only other person who knows of the nicknames I’ve given them.

I feared that Nick would be out to get me bad tonight so I kept my guard up. I was beginning to wish he hadn’t accepted me into the “gang”. But he didn’t attack me like I thought he would. Not as bad anyway, he did glue the lens cover to my camera, but that was it. His main focus tonight had been the rest of the band members. There was some soft mushy stuff ( I don’t really want to know what it was) that he put in Howie’s shoes that made a squishy sound every time he stepped down on it. Even Lauren and Bailey were not exempt from his attacks, though he took it easy and tamed the beast a bit for them. He gave Bailey a stick of fish flavored gum. Not one of his most original ideas, he’d given their former tour manager one in the early days, so it was nothing new but Bailey thought it was genius and had suckered Nick out of a stick for himself. He ran over to his father offering the newly acquired stick of gum. Of course, Brian knew what it was but he still took it and unwrapped the foil paper. He put it in his mouth and braced himself for the foul flavor he knew he would taste. Bailey laughed as his father made some of the funniest faces he’d ever seen. “Eeeww. Bailey.” He said pretending that he had been completely unaware and the little replica of himself smiled in triumph.

I have to say the funniest moment of the evening was when he glued AJ’s microphone to the stand. Nick almost laughed his balls off when he saw AJ’s face as he tried to remove it from the clip. Still singing he turned to the blonde devil and gave him the look, only succeeding to make Nick laugh even more, missing his cue. I watched him try to rip the mic off. He held down the stand with one hand and tried to pry it with the other, when that didn’t work, he tried again only this time he placed his right foot at the base and used his weight to pin it down. There were a few laughs in the crowd. He gave up after the third unsuccessful attempt. I watched in amusement as he struggled to maneuver the stand and his movements when the dance sequence came on. The evil little girl inside of me took delight at the sight. This has to be my favorite day of all, the longs hours, the traveling, the demanding schedules, it’s all worth it to see this night. Watching them have fun and being goofy, it brings a different feel to the environment, everyone is always happy on that final day. Even I couldn’t keep myself from smiling.

But sadly all good things must come to an end.

~

Back in my hotel room, I received another phone call from my mother asking if I’d be joining them.

“Yes mom, I told you like a million times already, I’ll be there. My flight leaves tomorrow morning.”

I don’t know what it is about her, why she keeps asking me this. After all these years, she still hasn’t learned that when I say I’m going to do something, I do it. Mothers, huh?

That was all it took, another damn phone call. I’d spent all day feeling rejuvenated and actually very chipper. I had a great time, one of the best days of my life, and one little tiny phone call dampened it all. She kept mentioning Sammie’s wedding and how much fun we were all going to have planning it. I wished she would stop; doesn’t she know that she’s torturing me with all this marriage stuff?

After my little chat with my mother, which I did my best to cut short, citing exhaustion and that I had to be up early for my flight, I walked down the hallway and hopped in the elevator. I pressed the button for the first floor and made my way to the bar. I know, alcohol is not the answer, it solves nothing and only brings more complications, but screw it, we’ve all been there a time or two. Stop me if I lie.

I sat on the bar stool and leaned onto the counter with my elbows resting on the cool surface and waited for the nicely dressed man to come over. “What can I get you, Miss?”

“A shot.”

He nodded. “Tequila?”

“Yes.”

The days leading to this night I had been invited again to join them for lunch, for dinner, for a night out not just by Leigh but now Nick and Lauren as well but I respectfully declined every invitation. Seeing Alex outside of work environment really pissed me off. I kept thinking about the night outside of the diner, how dare he raise my hopes up like that and then crush them. And we never did speak after the show, like he said we would. Jackass! I emptied the contents of the small glass the bartender had filled for me. I felt the surge of heat travel down my throat.

Maybe the person I should really be mad at is myself, maybe I’d read things the wrong way. Maybe he’d only been trying to be polite, but I could have sworn that night, standing outside in the parking lot while everyone else finished their meals, I had seen a hint of the old Alex. My Alex, that’s what I called him. That kid I would stay up late at night with watching re runs of Mr. Ed and Green Acres, that was my Alex.

As I drank another shot and another and another I was becoming more convinced than ever that he was gone forever. The more I drank the more I was convinced that was the plain and simple truth. It was as if my best friend had died and I was just now facing the reality of it. I took another shot of tequila and began sobbing. I was blaming Alex for all of this and that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t just him that had me in a mess right now. It was everything. It was him. It was Sammie. My mother, my family, the wedding, Thanksgiving, Christmas, my thirtieth birthday nearing the corner. My sister and her perfect wedding, mom always trying to shove a husband down my throat. I had enough of it! I asked for another shot. I held the glass to my lips and pictured it all. God, I’m alone.

“Whoa, whoa, slow it down.” I heard a voice say.

I looked up and saw Alex standing there. Now he’s gonna lecture me about drinking? Really? I don’t think so. I forced the fluid down my throat and looked at him in triumph. A silent fuck you. He cocked his head to the side and looked at me with eyes I hadn’t seen before. As if he knew what I was going through that moment. As if he had been there before. I felt exposed now and I wasn’t liking the feeling. He sat down on the stool beside me and nodded.

“Can I get you anything?” The bartender asked him.

“Yeah, I’ll have what she’s having.”

“Should you really be drinking?” I questioned.

I could see him thinking about it. “Fuck it. Why not? Fuck it all.”

That was when I realized that he looked as bad as I did. Perhaps I’d been wrong. Maybe he hadn’t been where I was at, maybe he was there now.

“We’re getting shit faced tonight Gracie. You and me, pumpkin. On me.”

I laughed. He was about three or four shots too late for that. I was already pretty messed up.

Maybe it’s wrong of me, but that night was turning out to be the best night I’d had in a long time. Again I was feeling like I had my Alex back. We sat there chatting away like we were old friends. We were technically, but it felt like we hadn’t missed a beat, laughing the night away.

“Maybe we should head back.” I suggested. “Ronnie’s probably worried sick about you.”

He swallowed a big gulp of beer. “Nah, I highly doubt that.”

“Right, she’s probably gonna come marching down here any minute now and rip off our heads. You for drinking and me for not stopping you. Where is she anyway? I haven’t seen her much.”

To think about it, I hadn’t seen her at all this past week.

“She sticks to you like-”

“Like glue, I know, you’ve mentioned that before.”

He remembered. It felt kind of good to know that he remembered what I said and it even felt better that he remembered that night. He hadn't just brushed it off. Speaking of that night, Alex had said she was sick. I started wondering if it could be something more serious and if she had seen a doctor.

“Yeah, you won’t be seeing her anymore either.”

“Why is that?”

We broke up; she went back home.”

“When?” Okay I didn’t know this girl well but she had seemed like a nice girl and they looked like they were happy. Never did I see any signs that there might have been trouble. I know I don’t hang around them every day but I can usually tell when one of Alex’s relationships is going south, we all can. He's pretty transparent, but this one he hid well.

“In Atlanta, the night before the diner.”

“That’s why she wasn’t there?” He looked down at the counter and nodded. “You said she was sick.”

“Yeah she was, sick of me apparently.”

“Oh, Alex, I’m really sorry about that.” I didn't know if I should ask more about it or just let it go. I didn't want to pry and I know I sure as hell didn't want to talk about what was eating at me.

He ripped his eyes away from the counter and looked up into the air, staring at nothing. “Hey, remember that time you broke your mom’s vase?”

“The one my grandmother gave her… that belonged to my great grandmother?”

“Yeah that one. You came over to my house and I help you put it back together with crazy glue. Dude you were scared shitless, you thought she was going to murder you.”

“Yeah I remember that.”

“Hey, did she ever find out?”

“If she did, she never said anything. I mean she had to have noticed it, we did a piss poor job putting it back together, but she still to this day hasn’t said anything.”

Conversation dropped for a mintue and there was an uncomfortable silence. I fiddled with my glass of rum and coke that I was now sipping. We shared a few a awkward glances. I felt a wave of relief when he broke the silence.

“So you know why I’m here. Why are you here?”

I clenched on to my glass and squirmed in my seat.Not quite the topic I had in mind. I was hoping I could get through this night without having to do this.

“It’s late. I think we should call it a night.” I stood from the bar and as I turned to walk away, he grabbed my arm.

“Don’t go Gracie.” The sound of his voice, saying my name, almost pleading with me, made me stop.

“Don’t go, please, not yet.” I just stared at him, dumbfounded. “I miss you, Grace. I miss my friend. I want her back, I know I’ve made some poor choices in the past that tore us apart but I want what we used to have.”

So did I. I wanted it so bad, I just never realized before how bad I wanted it, or how much I had missed him. I sat back down and took a really big gulp of my drink.

“My sister’s getting married.”

“Sammie?!” His eyes widened.

I nodded.

“Little Sammie, I can’t believe it.”

“Yes, well, believe it. Samantha’s getting married to her perfect boyfriend Alvin. Sam. Sammie! My sister. My little sister is getting married and I don’t even have a boyfriend. I haven’t even dated in a long time much less have someone serious in my life. And then I have to go see them for the holidays where I know all that anyone’s going to talk about is Sammie getting married. Samantha this, Samantha that, and hey Gracie, look you’re little sister can do it, you can do it too. Well fuck Samantha and her chipmunk fiancée!”

Since the night I had received the news, I’d kept it all bottled inside of me. It had been tormenting me somewhat and now in one moment of desperation, I had let it all out. And to the person I had least expected to.

Alex just sat there quietly, letting me rant until I was blue in the face. I could feel the tears fighting to seep out but the last thing I wanted was to cry in front of this man. He watched me attentively. I’m not sure what was going through his mind at that point but I was beginning to regret my little outburst. He must think I’m nuts.

He reached over and gave me a sympathetic pat on my hand before grabbing in tightly. He looked into my eyes again and with a straight face he said, “His name is Alvin?”

His eyebrows furrowed.

I let out half a chuckle and nodded.

“Two more shots of tequila over here.” He hollered at the bartender. “I think you need a couple more.” He said to me and slid them towards me after the tiny glasses had been filled.

I had been drinking prior to Alex’s arrival, I didn’t think I could manage shoving those two down my throat. “No. I can’t, you drink that one. You need it too.”

“Nah, I think you need it more.”

“No seriously Alex, I know my limit and think I reached it about three drinks ago. Or four but who’s counting?”

“Alright then, here’s to life and all the fucking bullshit it throws at us. Fuck it all!”

“Yes! Fuck it all!”

~

Alex had to help me out of my seat and I had to lean against him for support with a firm grip around my waist he guided me out of the bar. Somewhere during our walk I broke down in tears and he held me in his arms. And then I cried more because I was crying in front of him.

“Everything will be okay.” He whispered and despite the past years of absence, I believed him. Standing there in his arms I actually felt like things would be okay. He brushed my hair out of my face and tenderly pressed his lips against mine. At first, I didn’t understand what was happening but two seconds later it processed. I stiffened and pulled away, looking at him dumbfounded.

“What?” He smiled. “It’s not like I’ve never kissed you before.”

My eyes widened, “When have you kissed me?”I was certain that never happened.

“Oh no that’s right, I’m sorry. It was more like you kissed me.”

“You've lost your mind.” Now I was absolutely certain that that never happened.

“Yeah, you remember…that time sitting outside your house, we were playing and Chuck came along and held one of your Barbies hostage…remember that?”

So I had suppressed that memory to the point where I had nearly purged it entirely out of my head but now that he had mentioned it, I remembered it clear as day. We had in fact been outside my house like he said, I was playing with my Barbie dolls and he was playing with his little green army men when a kid from the neighborhood came and stole one of my dolls and threatened to rip off her head.

Alex chased after him until he was close enough and punched him in the face retrieving my doll before any damage was done. That had been the last time I had cried in front of him. I didn’t ever want him to see me weak and vulnerable like that again. After that day, Alex had insisted that we build a tree house, our own little place where we could play undisturbed. He begged and pleaded with his mom to let him build one until he had pestered her enough about it that she gave in. His grandfather helped him put it up. Naturally, me being a girl I wanted nice pretty things up there that most boys his age would have rather choose death over but Alex allowed it and let me decorated how I wanted, as girly and dumb it may have been.

Noting the look on my face, he smiled smugly knowing that he was right. I rolled my eyes. “I was six. And you rescued Emily. It was a thank you. I didn’t know any better, and F.Y.I. it was Emily’s idea.”

“The doll? Uh huh.”

“Yes, she told me to because you saved her life. She wanted me to thank you for her.”

“Gracie, seriously? You’re gonna pin it on the doll.”

“Well- doesn’t the hero ‘spose to get a kiss?” Okay my words at this point were a bit slurred and my grammar was way off, I knew it but that didn’t stop me from pouring out my words like I knew what I was saying.

He just looked at me with a strange look in his eyes, completely ignoring my protests and pulled me into him, kissing me fiercely. I wrapped my arms around his neck this time and kissed him back with just as much force.

I’m sure you all are dying to know what happened next (pervs) even though I’m sure most have you by now have a pretty good idea.

But before I attempt to recount the events of this night I must say that this is the part where things go from bad to worse. I mean forget the shit hitting the fan, the shit was plastered all over the walls and floors. You’re standing in the middle of it gagging, and you aim to run away from it, go as far as you can, leaving a track of shit behind you and as much as you try to clean the bottoms of your shoes you can’t get it off, and the stench is following you everywhere you go.

Yeah that was a mouthful, I know but I can’t think of a better way to describe the following events that took place. I was about to complicate things for myself more than I could have ever deemed possible. Had I known the half of it, I would have stopped it right there. But alcohol always has a way of impairing your better judgment. Shit happens; lines get crossed. Alcohol.

I woke up with just a bit of a hangover the next morning. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be given the amount I had to drink last night. I had still managed a very peaceful sleep. Have you ever opened your eyes in the morning and felt so warm and satisfied that you just wanted to make love to your mattress? You know, as a token of appreciation for the wonderful sleep it gave you. You just want to lie there cuddling the blanket and never get up. Yeah well that feeling lasted about three seconds from the time I gained consciousness to the settling of an aching pain. It was like a game of ping pong was taking place in my brain only instead of a tiny white ball it was a bowling ball that was being tossed back and forth, side to side in my head. But that too was shortly lived as the details of last night’s event came flooding through. I realized where I was and not just geographically, but also in the pickle I was now in.

It wasn’t the first time I’d found myself greeting the new day in someone else’s bed. There’d been plenty times – hey I never said I was a saint. I am a woman of the new millennia and as reserved as I appear to be I’m still a woman. A woman with needs and I’m not too shy to sate said needs. But it was the first time I woke up in my best friend turned former best friend to recently best friend and now possibly once again former friend’s bed. Whoo! Hope I didn’t lose you there.

I looked around but he was nowhere in sight. Which I was grateful for. I couldn’t look at him just yet. What would I say to him? “Hey how’s it goin’?” I had slept with Alex. Great. I had just gotten my friend back and now I’ve completely obliterated any chance of getting back the friendship we once had. I knew then that after last night nothing would ever be the same again. I’d lost him forever this time. God I don’t need this now.

I pulled the sheets down and was startled when I heard movement. Sitting up in bed I leaned forward towards the edge of the bed and there in all his glory was Alex lying butterball naked on the floor with just a square footage of the blanket I had just thrown off me covering his penis, standing at full attention might I add, with my panties on his head. Not a sight I wanted to see. I wanted to shriek but I held it inside and held a tightly fisted hand over my mouth. The last thing I wanted at this moment was to wake him up. I just wanted to get up, get dressed and get the hell out of there. With any luck he might not even remember this night and our friendship could still be salvaged, if I could just block this night out from my brain for the rest of my life. It’s possible right. With a little hard work, it might be an achievable goal.

I slipped out of bed as stealthily as possible. I located my clothes minus the panties and proceeded to put them on, all the while keeping my eyes locked on the edge of the bed, praying he wouldn’t get up. I was down to my shoes, nearly done, scanning the room for my purse. I found it laying on the nightstand. In one swift move, I snatched it. My heart fell when I saw what lay beneath it. It was like my heart had been ripped right out of my chest. I wanted to cry as I stared at the photograph that would be a permanent reminder of the previous night. Alex and I, in what appeared to me as a cheap dash and go chapel. No. This can’t be. I looked down at my hand for confirmation. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed it before, I hadn’t felt the weight of this monstrosity of a diamond ring on my left hand. How could this have happened? And how come I don’t have any recollection of it? And then anger kicked in and I didn’t give a damn about Alex waking up anymore.

I screamed in…I don’t know what this feeling was…disappointment…confusion…betrayal. Well whatever it was I didn’t like it. Alex jumped up.

“What the hell?” He asked still groggy.

“How the hell could you do this?” I spat at him.

“Could you please keep your voice down. It’s too early.” He grabbed his head evidence of a hangover and in the process knocked my panties off and even in his pain made note of the thin piece of fabric now resting on the floor beside him. He picked them up and just as he was about to bring his hand to his face I shouted.

“How dare you take advantage of me last night. And pull some shit like this.” Had he really been about to sniff my panties? PIG!

“Hey, I didn’t see you trying to fight me off. If I remember clearly you were all over me.” Clearly he was oblivious to the quickie wedding. I yanked the lace out of his hand as he made a second attempt to smell my undergarment.

“Yeah well you obviously don’t remember shit about last night.” Neither did I but I wasn’t going to give him that just then. “Thanks for ruining my life.” I threw our wedding photo at him and stormed out the door.

I had to leave. I had to get out of there and go as far away as possible. I know you all are thinking that running away is not the answer but let me tell you this- SHUT UP! When you wake up one morning, married to your best friend after a night of irresponsible drinking then you can talk to me about running. I bet you’ll find it to be the best option then.

I made it to eight steps when I hear Alex call out my name. “Grace!” I just kept on walking. “You think I ruined you life? Ever think maybe you just ruined mine.”

“Fuck you.” I yelled back.

“No thanks honey, already did that. I just can’t believe I’d marry you.”

“Me neither and keep your voice down.” I yelled back. Not only did I not want anyone overhearing this arguement but I also didn't want to voice out loud what had occured. Fueled by my boiling blood I kept on my path walking carelessly. I tripped and nearly twisted my ankle causing me to almost fall down on my ass. That just got me more angry. So much for my awesome dramatic exit. I hated that Alex had just seen me so clumsy. I was expecting to hear him say something or laugh but instead what I heard was the sound of a lock clicking. Idoit! Just keep walking Grace. Keep walking. I said to myself as I heard Alex trying to coax the door to open but of course his efforts proved futile. Don’t stop don’t look back. Two feet near the elevator I paused. Damn it! I turned around and saw Alex standing in front of the door, locked out of his own room, with nothing but bed sheets wrapped around him. Looking defeated. Like a lost little boy, his head hung down and then he looked up at me with a hint of helplessness and a handful of irritation.

I sighed. “Stairs or elevator.” I asked.

“Stairs.”

~

The walk down the stairway seemed longer than it actually was. My room was one floor below his, which suited me just fine. The sooner this was over with the sooner I could get away from him and leave all this mess behind me, momentarily at least. Home was looking good right about now. I’d rather be home and suffer the torture that is my family than this, although from a legal standpoint I guess Alex is now family too. I shivered and cursed myself for allowing the thought to linger in my head even for just a second. No! I tried to banish the thought. He’s not my family.

I dared a quick peek over my shoulder. His face was still stained crimson, not sure if it was painted by humiliation of agitation and his eyes told nothing. Either way I was grateful that he was not staring at my backside. It’s strange the things you think when the atmosphere around you is quiet. That’s why I have a love/hate relationship with silence. It’s great because it means no one’s going to eff with you but it also sucks because it lets your mind eff with you instead. It’s a double edged sword anyway you look at it. And at the moment I had more urgent things to worry about than that man looking at my bum.

We made it to my room without anyone catching us. That would have made a perfect topping for this day. I dug through my packed bags for something he could wear. I pulled out some grey sweat pants and tossed the over to him. Now don’t get me wrong, just because I was doing this for him didn’t mean I wasn’t upset with him anymore. I was still pissed off but we couldn’t have Alex running around the hotel ass naked could we? Though maybe I should have, would have served him right. I probably would have lost my job. Shit! Who was I kidding? I probably still was going to lose it after this mess and even if by some fluke I weren’t fired, I don’t think I could have continued to work so close to him anymore, not after this. Sure I had overlooked the past before but this was completely different. Any way you looked at it, I was out of a job.

“Honey Buns?” He read out loud. “You expect me to wear pants that say honey buns?”

“Well you don’t have to if you don’t want to. You can always go prancing around the lobby in your new man skirt.” I threw a shirt at him. Toga would have been more like it but I was too distressed to offer him a more manly suggestion.

“Oh hell no. The honey buns is one thing, but I’m sure as hell not going to wear a fucking pink shirt.” He threw it back at me.

“Awe, but Alex you look so lovely in pink.” I said dryly.

Already in the honey buns pants I gave him, he looked irritated as he thought it over. “Whatever, just give me the damn shirt.” He ordered with an expression on his face that read “I’m AJ McLean, I can get away with anything.”

As he opened the door to take his leave he said to me, “Thanks, I’ll make sure you get these back when I’m done.”

I guess I should have accepted his thank you but I didn't. “Oh no that’s okay, I don’t want them back.” He gave me a questioning look. “They have your germs on them.”

That questioning look quickly turned back into that smug one he had when I’d handed him the shirt. He walked back inside. “Germs?” He questioned as he inched toward me. He repeated this until he was standing before me, his face only inches away from mine. “You wanna talk about germs? You got my germs all over you right now.” Emphasizing his words with the circular motions of his hands, outlining my body.

“Argh!” I felt my face burn, I just knew my face was flushed and knowing he could see it only fueled my inner demon more driving me to the point that I was not rationalizing. So I may have acted without thinking. Before I even realized what I was doing I'd secured my hands on his chest and with all the strength I could summon, I pushed forward, knocking him down. He fell to ass first to the floor.

“Did you just push me?” He asked bewildered. The stunned look upon his face made it clear that he was not quite sure if it had really happened. Hell,I wasn’t quite sure myself. I think I shared his confusion. “What are you? Nine?”

That was childish and immature and most likely uncalled for. I admit this. Even I was startled by my actions. I wanted to apologize to him, really I did, but how do you apologize to a jackass- a jackass that you married in a drunken stupor? How do you say sorry when all you want to is pretend it never happened? I was upset with him. I don’t believe I’ve ever hated anyone as much as I hated him at that moment but if I were completely honest with myself I’d say the one I was really just angry at was myself. But that is not the case here. I was not at that point yet. I’d been stupid and careless and this was the result. So I did the only thing I could think of. What else do you do when you are so disgusted with yourself and can’t stand to shoulder the blame and refuse to accept any responsibility? You blame it on someone else. All I know is the amount of shame and the oh so colorful potpourri of unsorted emotions brewing inside of me didn’t leave much room for talking much less apologizing.

He’d left my room shortly after and in less time than it took him to stand up and shake it off and he’d done so quietly, without uttering a word. I occupied myself with the task of repacking the few items I’d tossed out while searching for something for Alex to wear. As I neatly refolded I noticed I could have so easily given him something more manly to wear, well, maybe not manly but certainly less girly. But I’d given into the temptation of humiliating him and let him saunter out of here in a cute outfit. Not one of my proudest moments but I still have to say if I could replay that whole scene again I’d probably do the same thing. You have to admit it was funny.

I cracked the door open and peeked out to make sure the hall was clear. Armed with my bags, sunglasses and a baseball cap I made a run for the elevator, said a silent prayer that I could make it without being intercepted anyone and by anyone I meant Leigh. I know she’d just have to have one of her half an hour goodbyes and I just wanted to get the hell out of there as fast as humanly possible. Knowing her and her “uncanny psychic” (notice the quotes there, she’s great but there’s nothing supernatural about her.) abilities, she’d know something was wrong and demand to know what it was. I couldn’t face her. Not now, and when I did I certainly would never mention to her a thing about my marriage. Marriage-that word still feels a little strange coming off my tongue.

Despite the holiday rush I was fortunate enough to be off the ground without any delays. You know how hectic things can get when traveling during these times. I was even more fortunate and thankful that I’d not bumped into Leigh or anyone else for that matter but I knew that eventually my luck was going to run out. Like it or not I was fully aware that I was only fighting the inevitable. Sooner or later I was going to have to face her. I was going to have to have that dreadful conversation with her. My only hope was that it would be later. Much later.

On my flight from Vegas to Florida, I decided to calm my nerves with those little bottles of alcohol provided by the airline. I know it may not have been the wisest decision on my part given recent events. I stared at each one of those bottles and cursed them all for their part in this mess I currently found myself knee deep in, right before I drank them. However, my reasoning skills were flawed. I was still suffering the physical aftermath and I heard once that the best cure for a hangover was to drink more, plus I could use a little liquid courage to help me for what was to come.

I’m still surprised the flight attendant not only hadn’t cut me off but instead continued supplying me more. I guess she figured I was a little ill at ease with flying. A misconception I was eternally grateful for. What is the cut off in an airplane anyway? When do they say enough’s enough? I had half a mind to test that question but the flight wasn’t long enough to get my answer. A more important question that bore into my mind was how could I not remember what happened last night? I’ve had friends in the past (Yes, I have friends, though few they may be.)that have claimed to have done some pretty crazy stuff they can’t recall even to this day after a night of heavy partying. Truthfully, I can’t say I ever believed it. I didn’t believe, no matter how much consumed, that it was possible that alcohol could cause memory loss. Only until now that it happened to me. I’ve heard of people suffering from blackouts. Was that what happened to me? Did I really blackout?

I shifted in my seat, stared straight into the bottle I was now clutching in my hand. The thought worried me some. I had a lot on my plate recently, my sisters pending wedding, though now it seemed minimal in comparison to a wedding I can’t remember occurring, and none of it I’ve had time to adjust to. Now to add to the mix was the possibility that I was turning into a blackout alcoholic. And that brought on another terrible thought, what about Alex? He’d been clean for several years now. What if as a result out our little drink-a-thon he’d revert to his old ways? I mean sure I was mad at him but the thought that I’d be solely responsible for leading him down a wretched path to his former self was one that would eat at me if it were to materialize. No, I didn’t force him. I certainly didn’t put a gun to his head and he is a big boy who is fully capable of making his own decisions, but did that make me any less at fault? A little voice inside my head said no, I was just as guilty, if not more than Alex. I’d just sat there like an evil temptress taking shot after shot, flaunting it around in front of him. The alcohol- not myself, although I’m sure he’d like to think otherwise on the latter. Oh my God, I’m a temptress too! One more thing to add to the list of the horrible things I was becoming.

I tried to shove all these negative things out of my mind, to shove him out of my mind. Now was not the time, I’d have plenty of time to drown in them later. If I thought about Alex any longer, I was going to drive myself up the wall, but I just couldn’t seem to stop myself. The harder I try, the harder the image of him would push itself through. I was beginning to look forward to going home. If anything, it would serve as the perfect distraction.

When my plane finally landed, I was greeted by the presence of my brother who had been patiently waiting.

“Gracie!” He cried out.

I hadn’t seen much him in years, save for the holidays, not since he’d left home after graduation and went backpacking cross country. I guess in a way we are much alike, in that aspect at least. We both spent more of our time traveling the world, never staying in one place for too long. Only I did it because it was a requirement so gracefully bestowed upon me by my employers and I had the luxury of airfare and five star hotels and most of my other expense paid for.

“Anthony.” I returned. He wrapped his arms around me and grimaced.

“Whew. Gracie. Have you been drinking?”

I cowered and kept my eyes away as I said, “just a little.”

He shook his head and tsked just before he threw his head back and laughed. “It’s been too long now. Who would have known that my little sister would take after me?”

Anthony had been known back in high school to chug a few down and had almost missed his own graduation after getting wasted the night before.

I shrugged. “I guess I learned from the best.”

From his response, I can only gather that he took my comment as some great achievement. Boys!

Anthony carried my bags to the car. I felt relief wash over me that he’d be here. Last year he had been a no show on account of his wife, Ingrid, who had just given birth to their third child. I’d heard there had been some complications that led to the baby being born prematurely. Thankfully, God had been listening to our families’ prayers. At a year old little Noah is a happy healthy baby.

With Anthony here this year, I had a feeling things would be a little more tolerable. He was the only one who didn’t pressure me into finding a husband and always came to my rescue whenever mom’s nagging about wanting grandchildren would turn less than favorable.

We did some catching up on the ride home. I asked him about his job and he asked about mine and of the places I’ve traveled. Wanting to change the subject as my employment was much too close to a certain person I didn’t want to think of right now, “So how’s backpacking?” I asked.

“Ah, Grace, I’m too old for that crap now. It was great while it lasted but eventually we all got to grow up sometime and become responsible adults.”

Reluctantly I nodded. I was far from being responsible adult right now. “Besides I don’t thing Ingrid would appreciate it if I did.”

True I doubted that his wife would allow it even though it was how they had met, but now with three kids, the wear and tear of the constant traveling, life on the road was unacceptable.

“No, I don’t suppose she would like it much if you just took off vacationing while she stays home with the kids.”

I was immensely grateful when the car finally pulled into the driveway. The second I had stepped outside and felt the breeze on my skin, I’d instantly regretted having consumed all those drinks. I was sure I hadn’t had enough to be feeling it the way I was. I guess I just hadn’t slept down last night’s intake. As I stood outside the front door of the house I’d grown up in, my mind confirmed that I had indeed made a terrible mistake.

I heard Anthony chuckle behind me. “No use in trying to sneak you in now, mom and dad have been amped up all week about seeing you. It’s all they’ve talked about.”

You mean besides Sam’s wedding. I mentally added but said nothing, not wanting to work up my nerves. My stomach was already uneasy and it took most of my concentration just to stand straight, or at least I think I was. A knot formed at my throat when my brother reached from behind me and opened the door.

The picture that awaited me on the other side hadn’t given me sufficient time to acknowledge what was happening. It all came to me in a confused slow-motioned blur. Two women were screaming my name and running straight toward me. I turned and fixed my gaze on my father who was sitting on his recliner and judging from his expression I noted that he understood even before I did. I turned back to face my mother in her lightly flour dusted apron. In her haste, she had tossed her rolling pin onto the kitchen counter. I then saw my sister, who unlike my mother, looked like she’d fallen into a big sack of flour.

I tried to hold onto it but the second they were within reach I could no longer contain it. I backed away only to bump into Anthony. With nowhere to go and unable to prevent it, I spewed all over my mother and sister. I heard feminine shrieks and the laugher of a man penetrate the room. Home, sweet home.

Yep, I’d emptied out all the contents of my belly on my mother and sister and Anthony had just stood there behind me laughing. It was an embarrassment and I was ashamed of myself. Did I mention it might have been a bad idea drinking so much? Well on the bright side, it was lucky for me…er...for them that I had not eaten yet and all that had poured out was liquid-the same liquid poison that had brought me to heave in the first place.

I took the two Tylenol that Sammie had left beside the bed before she slipped into the bathroom. I lay down on my back with my eyes closed, rubbing my temples. It seems that’s all I do lately. Another thing I seem to be doing a lot these days is all the wrong things, one stupid mistake after another. I think I’ve fucked up more in these past couple of days than I have in all my life combined. The biggest one being with Alex-No- I will not think of him. Not now, I will deal with that later.

I heard the squeaking of the faucet and the sound of water descending to a halt. A couple of minutes later my sister popped out of the bathroom with a cotton towel wrapped around her and another in her hand, drying out her hair. Her giggling caught me off guard.

“Now that was quite the entrance wasn’t it?”

“Ugh, please, don’t remind me.” I said dryly.

“You know you can expect that will be a topic of conversation this Thanksgiving dinner.” She grinned as she dressed. “And all Thanksgivings to come.”

Great! That was just what I needed. Perhaps it might not be so bad. If I could keep them on that subject, it could take the focus off my love life, or lack of. It could work and I might just survive the holidays. Still…

“I doubt anyone would be wanting to talk about that. I’m sure they’d much rather be talking about you and your upcoming wedding.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. In fact… and I’m just guessing here, but I think 15 or 20 years from now they’ll still be talking of it. And by they, I mean Anthony. You know how he is.” She sprawled on the queen-sized bed that had replaced the two twin mattresses we had when we were growing up-back when we used to share the room.

I let out a deep sigh. “Oh by the way…” I’d nearly forgotten something important. “Congratulations, Sammie.”

She smiled at me. “Thanks.”

Then quickly she turned away from me and something about it struck me as odd. I’m not sure if it was the smile or something in her eyes that alarmed me. I made a mental note just then to find out what and why that was. Once this blasted headache ceased and I had something in my stomach, I would discreetly pry about. It was possible that in my tired state, I was just seeing things that weren’t really there but I thought I saw a flicker of doubt, even if it had been for half than a second. Either way, imagined or not, I would find out.