Commitment

by Golland, K. M.

  “Cock Sucking Cowboys,” Carly explained, treating us to a visual explanation by pretending to give head to her champagne flute.

  A hand slid onto Carly’s hip, a hand belonging to Derek. “If I was a jealous motherfucker, I’d smash that glass and throw your Minion arse over my Minion shoulder.” He eyed Carly heatedly then acknowledged the rest of us. “Lex. Waiter dude. Purple People Eater.” Derek leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Happy birthday.”

  “Thanks, Derek.”

  “Where’s Deano? He better be a miniature yellow fucker like the rest of us.”

  I shrugged. “He’s not here yet.”

  As I was about to pull my phone out again and check to see if he’d rung or returned my message, a familiar deep voice followed by another familiar voice sounded behind me.

  “Happy birthday, Tashy.”

  “Happy birthday, Tash.”

  I turned to find Dale and Allison both dressed as Minions and holding each other’s hand, and as if time had stopped for the second time that night, I just stood there, glass in hand, unblinking; their entwined fingers holding my stare captive. It also robbed me of words and the ability to breathe.

  I felt a little ill but simultaneously wanted to laugh at the sight of Dale as a Minion, and I think that was the only thing that stopped my champagne from resurfacing and spraying Ali in the face.

  “Oh, hi guys,” I replied to them, my throat thick and dry. “Thanks. You both look cute.”

  Dale chuckled. “A purple Minion. I should’ve known.”

  I managed a small smile and nodded.

  “What is it with you and purple?” Ali asked. What is it with you, you skank?

  Ugh! Ali wasn’t a skank, so I regretted my thought-burst as soon as I’d had it; thankful it had only burst within my head and not from my mouth. And as weird as it was for me to even entertain the notion, the two of them really did make a cute couple. That said, seeing them together required a good dose of liquid courage.

  “Purple is the colour of Cab Sauv, Prince, and the Rialto at sunset,” I advised, skolling the rest of my champas.

  “Drink up,” Lexi announced, shoving the tray of Scnappies under my nose.

  “You don’t have to ask me twice.” I put down my empty glass yet again and picked up a shot, downing it before picking up another two.

  “Big night, Tashy?”

  I nodded and downed another.

  The look Lexi flung at Dale was one of you-make-her-cry-I’ll-make-you-cry. He seemed to get the drift and avoided her glare.

  “Mum! Where’s Dad— DALE!” Thomas exclaimed.

  “Cadet Thomas.” He bent down and shook Tommy’s hand. “How’s things? Keepin’ everyone safe?”

  “Yep. I locked up my neighbour the other day.”

  Dale tilted his head up, his eyebrows rising.

  “True story,” I said.

  “Mum, where’s Dad?”

  Downing my last shot, I pulled my phone out of my bra. “I don’t know.” I activated the screen and noticed there was a message. “Oh, hang on. He’s sent me a text.”

  Dean: I’m sorry, love.

  I’m gonna be late.

  I’m at Hill’s.

  Her boyfriend hit her.

  He’s at Hill’s? What? “Oh,” I said, worry churning the alcohol in my stomach. “Can you excuse me for a second?”

  Concerned faces stared back at me as I stepped away and headed outside to the pool deck where it was quieter so that I could call him. But, again, he didn’t answer, so I typed another text.

  Tash: What’s going on?

  Is she okay?

  What time will you be here?

  Alexis has gone to A LOT of trouble.

  Walking past Bryce, as I headed back inside, I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and stole Bray.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Just waiting for Dean to arrive.”

  Brayden whacked my arms and giggled before finally turning his head to look at me. His little blue eyes widened as far as they would go and his bottom lip dropped.

  “Bray? Hey, what’s wrong, little dude? It’s me, Tash.”

  A high-pitched squeal left his mouth and he lunged for his dad like a manic cat.

  “What? What did I do?”

  “You look like crazy purple clown, Tash. I almost had security escort you out of the building.”

  “But I’m the guest of honour.”

  “Yep. Don’t give a shit. The absence of clown-like makeup saved you.”

  “Well, you can thank Carl and Jane for that.”

  “I will. Now, tell me what’s wrong. Why isn’t Dean here?” he said, hugging Brayden to his chest, comforting him.

  “He’s at his secretary’s house.”

  “Who’s at his secretary’s house?” Alexis asked, concern on her face as she took Bray from Bryce.

  I sighed. “Dean.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s had a hunch for a few months that her boyfriend has been abusive. Apparently he was right.”

  “Hang on a minute, I’m not following. He’s there now with the abusive boyfriend?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not.”

  Bryce signalled Dale over.

  “NO!” I whispered. “I don’t want Dale involved.”

  “Why not?”

  “Bryce,” Alexis said, sternly, shaking her head and warning him with her eyes.

  His brows drew together but then they widened, the look he then gave me one of shock.

  “No. It’s not like tha—”

  “What’s up, Mate?” Dale asked Bryce, interrupting me.

  “Uh …” he glanced at Lexi and then back to Dale. “I forgot to ask if the security glitch at Cashier Station Eight was sorted out.”

  “No, you didn’t forget. I told you it was a wiring problem and that the techs were on to it.”

  “Shit! Seems I forgot that I didn’t forget.”

  “Yeah.” He slapped Bryce on the back. “You need a holiday.”

  “It’s just his daddy-brain,” Alexis added, laughing it off.

  Dale nodded his understanding and then gestured to my phone. “So, is everything sorted with your husband?”

  Bryce’s eyes narrowed at Dale, and I watched as Alexis snuggled herself within his arms, distracting him with Brayden.

  “Um … not quite. He’s running late. I’m not sure when he’ll get here.”

  “SHIT!” Alexis blurted. “He’s supposed to be bringing the cake. He wouldn’t let me organise one.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about it. I don’t need a cake.”

  “Yes, you do,” all three of them said in unison.

  “I don’t. It’s fine.”

  “You do.” Dale brought his phone to his ear. “I’m on to it.” He winked and stepped out of our conversation.

  “No! Really, it’s fine. Ugh!”

  “Someone want to tell me what’s going on between my Events Supervisor and my Head of Security?”

  I sighed. “Chill, boss-man. It’s nothing. Nothing is going on.”

  He rephrased himself. “What was going on then?”

  “Nothing. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

  “Natasha Jones!” he warned.

  “Bryce Clark!” I warned back.

  “Both of you stop it.” Alexis handed Brayden back to his father. “This is a birthday party. They’ll be no ‘work-business’ here tonigh—”

  The screech of a microphone sounded, followed by the shriek of most of the occupants in the room.

  “Excuse me,” Charlotte announced. “I’m taking singing requests.”

  I pursed my lips to refrain from laughing, which was when Alexis grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the front of the room.

  I tried to dig my feet into the hardwood floor, skidding after her. “No! I’m not drunk enough.”

  “Good. This will be a warm-up then.”

  * * *

  Several hours later, we’d knocked back mo
re Schnappies and knocked out “Broken Wings” by Mr. Mister Mister, “All My Life” by K-Ci & JoJo, “99 Luftballoons” by Nena — against my wishes, mind you, because I fucking hate that song — and were just finishing up with “The Horses” by Daryl Braithwaite when I noticed Sebastian push a trolley to the front of the room, and on top of it was a ginormous two-tiered cake covered in purple icing, purple ribbon, flowers, and a big purple bow on top.

  My mouth dropped and my glorious singing ceased. I scanned the room finding Dale with his arm around Allison. It was intimate and possessive and it twinged my stomach. But I ignored what I wasn’t supposed to feel and met his gaze. He smiled, sheepishly, and rocked back on his heels, and it was just … so incredibly sweet.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed, clutching my chest.

  My breasts vibrated and “You Sexy Thing” sounded from under my clutched hands. It was Dean ringing my phone, but I didn’t care. He’d missed my entire fortieth birthday, and I thought it more important to thank everyone who had made the effort to come than to answer his call. Plus, we were about to eat cake. Purple cake. Cake that Dale had arranged because my husband was too busy with his secretary to bring the one he insisted he’d bring.

  “Why are your breasts singing?” Alexis asked.

  “Because they’re drunk like us. When we’re drunk we sing. So do they.”

  “Is that Dean ringing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to answer it?”

  “No.”

  “It could be important.”

  “Yeah, and so is your wife’s fortieth birthday.”

  She pouted. “You should answer it. The cake can wait.”

  “No it can’t.” The ringing stopped and I smiled.

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  Taking me by my hand, she led us to the front of the room where we stopped behind the cake. A wolf whistle interrupted conversation, allowing us to gain everyone’s attention.

  I offered Derek a thumbs-up in thanks.

  “Excuse me, everyone. It’s time for cake,” Alexis yelled.

  Sebastian and other waiters and waitresses handed out glasses of champagne to the adults, and sparkling apple juice to the kids. And when everyone had a drink in their hand, Alexis continued.

  “Right. Forty years ago today, the world ended.”

  I whacked her arm while a hum of chuckling quietened.

  “But …” she continued, “then this woman right here brought it back to life.”

  “Nice save,” I murmured, playfully glaring at her.

  “Anyway, as I was saying, this woman right here is more than just a breath of fresh air. She’s a breath of helium: crazy, fun, annoying on the ear, and deadly with excess consumption.”

  Alexis covered her tits — which was smart considering I was seconds away from punching them again — and continued, “Tash has the ability to bring tears to your eyes, both good and bad, and when she speaks, you can’t help but laugh and sometimes wish she hadn’t spoken at all. But most of all, like helium, she lifts you. High. There’s just no being down when she’s around. So, to my Minion and best friend, thank you for keeping my feet off the ground. I love you. Happy birthday.”

  Tears.

  Real tears.

  I wiped my eyes. “Damn dust. Seriously, hire some cleaners or something.”

  “Now whose on the throne of lies, huh?”

  Ignoring her I took a deep breath and said a few words. “Where do I start? Oh, that’s right … gases. Unlike me, Alexis isn’t a breath of helium. She’s a breath of nitrous oxide. You know that funny gas you get when you’re giving birth? Yeah, too much of Lexi and you’ll go batshit crazy. But it’s a good batshit crazy. The kind you know you shouldn’t say yes to but do anyway because fun times. Oh, and she’s also highly explosive”

  “You can say that again,” Bryce interjected.

  She pointed to him. “You’ll keep, Clark.”

  “Anyway, apart from being batshit crazy and highly explosive, she’s also indispensable.”

  “You can say that again,” Bryce added yet again.

  We all laughed.

  “Without Lex in my life, I wouldn’t be whole. My mum once said to me that a good friend is good, a bad friend is bad, but a good bad friend or a bad good friend is perfect. Lex is my good bad friend … or is it bad good friend? Either way, her friendship is perfection.”

  I turned to her and held her hands in front of us, and the struggle to keep a straight face as I prepared to tell her something that she thought was momentous when it wasn’t was undeniably difficult. So I broke into the Minion Banana song before I busted into hysterics and gave myself away.

  “Ba na na, ba na nana.”

  Her lips vibrated as air escaped her mouth, spit nearly escaping with it. Yet she didn’t cave. Instead, she joined in, singing our favourite song, along with our children, ‘til the very end — because they were the only other people in the room who knew the lyrics.

  They were our Minions.

  * * *

  After the speeches, the cake was cut, and one-by-one I said goodbye to my friends and family, thanking them for their gifts and for celebrating with me. A few of them — my mother in her not-so subtle hostile Italian tongue — had asked where Dean was, and all I could say was, “He was held up at work,” which was a big fat fucking lie. Because shortly after Lex and I had finished getting our Minion on, my breasts had vibrated with an incoming message to my tightly wedged in phone, the message reading:

  Dean: I’m leaving soon.

  I’m sorry, love.

  It’s been a crazy night.

  Crazy night? I’ll give him a fucking crazy night when I see him. I was so angry and disappointed, but mainly embarrassed. Embarrassed that his justification for not being at my birthday party was abstruse at best.

  “I’m gonna get going,” I said to Lex, hugging her tightly. “Thank so much for everything. I really mean that. You’re amazing and I love you.”

  “Anytime, hon. You’re totally worth it.” She squeezed me even tighter and lowered her voice to whisper in my ear. “You sure you’re okay?”

  I matched her barely audible tone. “Not really. But I will be. I just want to know what the hell happened.”

  “You will. When he gets back.”

  “Yeah, when he gets back.” I pulled away and moved to Bryce. “Thank you, boss-man, I’m calling it a night. You’re the hottest Minion I’ve ever seen and my Minion bits can’t handle your Minion hotness.”

  “Good night, Tash,” he responded, all serious-like.

  As he released me, the door buzzer sounded, followed by Dean bursting through the door. “Fuck!” he mouthed, running his hand through his hair as he took in the apartment sans the party guests. “Tash, I’m so sorry. Hillary—”

  “Save it. I’m going to bed. You may want to head upstairs and say goodnight to the boys, though. I’ve only just tucked them in. And after that,” I said, straightening my purple shoulders, “you might as well go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Dean

  I was in the shit. Big shit. The shittiest big shit I’d ever been in. And what was worse was I still had to tell her what had happened with Hill. About the kiss. About how it wasn’t my fault.

  She wasn’t gonna like it, and I couldn’t blame her.

  Choosing not to go home — because doing the opposite to what they tell you to do when they’re angry was a proven success — I said goodnight to the boys, apologised to Lexi who told me to go apologise to my wife instead, and made my way to our suite.

  My stomach churned and tightened, my body temperature climbing as I walked along the hallway past suite door after suite door, counting the numbers until I reached 3907. Although it was gone midnight and technically no longer Tash’s birthday, it was still her ‘birthday’ per se, and I felt terrible that I’d ruined it and would no doubt ruin it further when I told her what I had to tell her. Fuck! This is gonna be harder than I thought.


  I paused, deliberating for a split second whether or not to insert my room keycard and enter. Could I just apologise for being late and leave the rest of my explanation for tomorrow? I could try. But I knew my wife. She would dig and dig until there was no explanation left rooted to the ground, so I had to just come out and unearth the lot of it. I had to explain that I couldn’t leave Hillary alone in the state she was in, and I had to explain that when Hillary kissed me, she wasn’t thinking straight … because of the state she was in. None of it could wait. The sooner I got it all out in the open, the sooner we could get past it and move on.

  Swiping my keycard through the door lock, it beeped twice and opened. I stepped into the room, darkness and silence greeting me, the ruffle of sheets the only sound I could hear.

  Suddenly, a lamp switched on and Tash sat up in bed, her hair still crazy and purple but her makeup removed — or mostly.

  “I thought I told you to go home,” she said, wiping her puffy red eyes.

  “I know what you told me to do. I don’t want to go home. I want to see my wife on her birthday.”

  “Bit late for that don’t you think? It’s no longer my birthday.”

  Taking a seat on the end of the bed, I reached out and placed my hand on her leg. “I’m sorry, love. I never planned on missing your entire party.”

  “Yeah, well you did miss it. Congratulations,” she snapped, dragging her legs out from under my touch and hugging her knees to her chest.

  My shoulders slumped, heavily, and my stomach churned. What was about to play out wasn’t gonna be good. Maybe I should just go and let her calm down first?

  “So, you gonna tell me what happened with your precious Hillary?”

  My eyes met hers. “Don’t be like that. She was a mess tonight. If you’d seen her, you’d understand.”

  “Well, I didn’t see her. You did. So tell me what the fuck happened.”

  “Okay,” I said calmly. “Hear me out.”

  She held her hand to her ear, a sarcastic retort. I let it slide.

  “Everything was fine when Hill left work. She was her normal bubbly self. Then roughly an hour later, when I was about to pick up your cake—”