by Taryn Steele
“Cabo Wabo Tequila,” she tells me.
I don’t hesitate. I need something, anything to take away the pain in my heart. I down it instantly.
“Another,” I tell her.
“Atta girl Hil’,” she says as she hands me another shot.
I take it and drink it just as quickly as the first one. I close my eyes and silently pray that the burn down my throat takes away from the burn in my heart.
I feel a hand at my back, followed by a kiss on my cheek. I turn to Jameson and stare at him blankly. He stares right back at me. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t need to. He knows what I’m doing. He knows this is how I’m going to cope for the night. So he stands by and watches all night.
PHONE RINGING
Ugh, what the hell is that annoying sound? My head is pounding and my stomach feels sour. What the fuck did I drink last night? How much did I drink last night? Seriously, what the fuck is that sound? Is that my cell phone?
Barely able to sit up I opt to slowly roll to my side and see the house phone on the night stand. I pick it up and hit TALK.
“Hello?”
“Poopsie Bear, you still in bed?”
“Hi Dad. Yes, I’m still in bed. Why, what time is it?”
“It’s almost noon.”
“Oh, I had a work thing last night and drank a lot because I was in a bad mood.”
“Is this about your abortion?”
“My what? What did you say? Who told you I had an abortion? I had a miscarriage Dad.”
“Your mother.”
“What the fuck? Who the fuck told her that? I lost a baby. I didn’t abort one. You know what Dad I gotta go. I think I’m going to throw up. I’ll call you later.”
I don’t wait for him to respond. I hit END on the phone, drop it on the bed and rush down stairs in to the bathroom. Pushing past Jameson who is at the sink brushing his teeth I lift the toilet seat lid, grab my hair and unload what feels like barrels of tequila.
After about a minute of heavy breathing and sweating on the bathroom floor Jameson hands me a cold, wet washcloth. I open it up and cover my entire face with it then wipe it down to my chin. It’s the quickest possible feeling of refreshment I’m going to get at this point, other than laying on the cool bathroom floor.
I’m not exactly sure how long I stay in the bathroom but the smell of coffee brewing in the next room pulls me from the floor. I only threw up that first time so I think I’m good. I have a feeling the monstrous noises coming from my stomach aren’t from more vomit coming but calling out in anger for food. Trying to recall all that transpired last night I don’t think I ate much of anything. Some toast with a little bit of butter and jelly sounds good and safe. Coffee. Mmm, that would be fantastic right now too.
I don’t want to get up too fast and make myself sick or dizzy so I go as slow as possible. Before I retreat to the kitchen I open the mirrored medicine cabinet above the sink and grab the bottle of Tylenol. I know the instructions say two tablets but who actually follows that? Jameson doesn’t. I know I usually go with three, sometimes four at one time depending on how massive the headache is.
I make my way into the kitchen where Jameson stands looking sexy as fuck with his short hair disheveled and his one day old scruff on his face. I don’t care how hungover I am, he always has me wanting him. Even more so right now as he hands me a cup of coffee. I put my hands around the hot mug and inhale the glorious scent of our favorite Original Roast Maxwell House coffee.
“Think you’re done puking?”
“God I hope so. That was fucking rough.”
“I tried to warn you a million times last night but you weren’t hearing any of it.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t really remember much and clearly that was my goal so I guess I got what I wanted, sort of.”
“Not that I have to worry about you drinking tonight, but don’t forget Pop invited us out tonight at the bar.”
“Oh fuck. Well, you can most definitely drink tonight. I will drink Sprite and be the designated driver.”
While I make my toast Jameson continues to tell me about my ridiculous drunk co-workers and their antics of last night. We decide to take it easy and just chill out in front of the television for a couple of hours before it’s time to get ready for the hour long drive to see Rick later. I’m so grateful my husband understands. If he wanted he could totally fuck with me and suggest I help him with yard work or go over bills. Ugh, that would suck. I promise I’ll be a good girl tonight and be back to normal tomorrow.
I’M STARING AT RICK and no words will form out of my mouth. I’m in complete and utter shock and what he just told us.
“You’re what?” Jameson asks.
“I’m moving down south, tomorrow. Your uncle is very sick and your aunt Judy needs my help.”
“Holy shit Rick,” I blurt out.
“I know. I’m sorry but now that I know you two are married and settled in I feel better leaving now than a few years ago when his health started going down hill.”
Sitting next to Jameson at the small, old wooden table I grab his hand resting on his thigh and give it a light squeeze. His face is blank. I have no idea what he’s thinking right now and I don’t like that.
“I’m gonna miss you Pop,” he finally speaks.
Rick stands up from his seat and Jameson follows, both arms wide open. My chin trembles with emotion knowing a few tears are about to stream down my cheeks.
While Jameson goes back to the bar to get a refill Rick tells me he needs to tell me something before Jameson comes back.
“I’m all ears,” I tell him.
“His mother is gonna shit rainbows when she hears I’m moving. Do not, I repeat, do not let her get to you. That is her trigger to keep pushing and pushing. She will stop at nothing to ruin you two. She is an evil cunt, ‘scuse my French but she is and I don’t use that word ever. She doesn’t care who she hurts. Obviously, since you know what she did lying to my boy when he was just a child. She won’t admit it but I’m sure you make her nervous. Jameson has never stood up to her like he has with any other girlfriend until you. Keep fighting. What you two have is special.”
I don’t respond. I just nod in agreement. I know Marcie has a lot of hate inside of her cold, black heart. I’ve already been through hell and back. I’m a fighter. I won’t lose Jameson. Knowing I have Rick on my side cheering for us is all of the encouragement I need.
Jameson finds his seat back at the table with a full glass of beer and a smile on his face. I’ve never met a man where beer didn’t make him happy.
The next few hours went by so fast with stories, laughing, crying, and dozens of games of pool. None of us wanted to end the night but it had to happen. The bar was closing soon and we still had to drive another hour home. Standing in between our two vehicles I make the first move and give my father in law the biggest hug I can. I whisper in his ear how much I love him, how much I’ll miss him and to call us at every pit stop on his drive down south. I kiss his cheek and get in the car before I lose my shit completely. It’s my turn to be strong for Jameson like he has been for me the past few days.
Rick and Jameson talk for about five minutes, hug and Jameson gets in the car. Rick waves to me and blows me a kiss. I do the same in return. I wait for Jameson to put on his seatbelt and I get us on the road right away. I don’t want to see Rick drive away first. That would be too hard to see, and I know it would be even harder for Jameson to see.
A few miles down the road Jameson still has not spoken. I place my right hand on this thigh and give it a light squeeze. He looks down and places his hand over mine. No words are exchanged.
We drive in silence the entire ride home.
I FEEL LIKE THIS is the first Christmas I’m not super excited about. The past few weeks of running around for work meetings, Christmas parties and shopping for presents has exhausted me mentally and physically. What hurts the most is that this is our first Christmas without Rick. It sucks. As soon as Marcie heard
her first comment was about how much more time we can spend with her on holidays. Umm, no.
After dealing with her and my own mother on what they want for Christmas gifts I will be more than happy to bolt out of both of those houses.
It’s funny how different men and women are when it comes to holidays and gift giving. When I call my father and Rick for Father’s Day, Christmas and their birthday’s to ask them what they want or what they are currently in to for ideas they always say “don’t get me anything.” When it’s time for the mother’s they are the complete opposite. They both provide very detailed lists. It’s ridiculous. There have been a couple of times when they both made it very clear they did not like the gifts we got them. I was so fucking offended at the look of disgust on their faces. Talk about ungrateful. Ugh.
If I just close my eyes I will wake up to a happier time, on New Year’s Eve and be excited for our combination Christmas - New Year’s party with our friends.
Jameson’s favorite holiday, New Year’s. I try not to think about our first New Year’s holiday together. Our friends even joke about it using Ross and Rachel lines from friends saying “You were on a break.” No, we weren’t. I was scared and if I didn’t show up we definitely would have been on a break. Jameson told me that himself.
Dancing around the kitchen in a t-shirt and Wonder Woman underwear whipping up some treats for the party tonight I can’t help the smile on my face. I am looking forward to enjoying food, alcohol and good times with my friends. Horrible flashbacks from just a week ago at Christmas invade my mind with Marcie complaining that we never spend any time with her, then listening to my own mother complain that the gifts we got her were not what she wanted. Tonight can’t go anywhere but up after that crap.
Shoop by Salt-n-Pepa comes on the radio snapping me from horrific flashback and I immediately become giddy and start singing to the lyrics. This song is too catchy not to sing along. I’m making my dad’s secret chicken wing recipe. The secret is that he uses Shake-n-Bake first before mixing a crazy concoction of ingredients for a barbecue baste. Okay, that is the entire secret but I can’t tell anyone except Jameson that part.
I hear a snort come from behind me and I whip around. Jameson is giggling like a girl watching me.
“What the fuck is so funny?” I snarl at him with a shit eating grin.
“Watching you dance while cutting up those chicken wings.”
“Hey, I’m multi-tasking here wise guy.”
“Baby, I love you but you can’t dance whether you’re multi-tasking or not.”
He’s not wrong. I can’t fucking dance. Somehow I can even fuck up the Polka and that is just jumping around like a fucking moron.
Jameson helps me in the kitchen for a while cutting up veggies for the platter I said we would bring, along with the chicken wings. We keep an eye on the time knowing we still have to take showers, and stop at the liquor store along the way.
I’m really looking forward to Aleyshia’s spiked egg nog. When we were emailing a couple of weeks ago about who was bringing what she said she found an awesome recipe. I love egg nog so adding alcohol to it can only make it better. In my eyes, at least.
Pulling in to the parking lot of the small town liquor store Jameson and I talk about how we both want to drink tonight and neither of us want to be the “DD.” We come to a compromise of a small allotment of drinks each, and at midnight whatever we are drinking at that moment is our last. Worse comes to worse we sleep over at Aleyshia’s. She already put that out there in the emails that there was plenty of room.
Jameson grabs a case of Budweiser. I grab a two liter bottle of Cola and a bottle of Captain Morgan. This should be an interesting night.
The drive from the liquor store to Aleyshia’s house is less than ten minutes. There are quite a few cars in the driveway already so we pull off to the side to allow room incase people want to leave before we do.
Walking inside Aleyshia’s house is like walking in to a Japanese museum. She still lives with her parents who are currently away on vacation in the Bahamas, so the house decor is all on them. Her parents built this house around this Japanese garden they built so from every room you can see this garden.
At the main entrance and up on a mezzanine in a semi-detached fashion is a Japanese style room where all of the entertaining is done. Next to it and readily accessible from the entrance is her dad’s office. Leading up from the entrance is a corridor connecting to the living room, fireplace, and kitchen.
A ramp connects to the elevated master bedroom and bathroom. From this elevated area a staircase leads to the family-home theater space adjoining to the bedrooms and bathroom on the second level. On the south of these bedrooms spread a boundless garden terrace overlooking the circular patio below.
The interior is primarily Japanese stucco-paint for walls and ceilings and either bamboo laminates or limestone for the floors. Aleyshia’s parents are all about being eco-friendly and according to them that’s what bamboo is all about. If you ask me, I have no fucking clue but I think their house is the cat’s ass.
I giggle to myself when I hear “Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer” playing loudly throughout the house. What’s even funnier is hearing everyone sing along with it. Walking in to the kitchen to warm the chicken wings up in the oven I see Aleyshia, Jeff, Bevan and Lily doing shots, laughing and trying to sing. They sound horrible.
“Hey! Happy New Year!” I shout.
“Yay! You guys made it. Time to catch up on shots.” Lily commands handing Jameson and myself a glass.
Can’t argue with her there. We raise our glasses, clink them together and drink.
“What the fuck was that?” Jameson says with a scowl on his face.
“Alligator Sperm,” Bevan tells him.
“Oh-My-God! Please tell me you did not jerk off in this,” I beg Bevan.
“Hell no,” he replies laughing out loud.
“It’s melon liquor, pineapple juice and cream topping,” Lily tells us.
“That was nasty,” Jameson announces.
“I don’t want to know what that cream topping was,” I say walking away to put together the vegetable platter.
Jameson and I spend most of the night apart enjoying our time catching up with old friends and making new friends. I think at one point there was at least fifty or sixty people in the house at one time.
Keeping an eye on the time, seeing it is close to midnight I make my way around the house to find Jameson so as to make sure his lips are on mine when the clock strikes midnight. I remember back when we had New Year’s at the apartment he shared with his mom and she pulled him away from me at the stroke of midnight. She held on to him for a nice long hug and I just stood there, alone twiddling my thumbs. I was so fucking pissed that night. Well, I can tell you for damn sure that is not happening tonight.
Peering through the large glass window I can see a large group of men outside huddled around the fire pit stacked with wood pallets. My money is on him being out there with those hooligans in the cold.
Stepping though the sliding glass door I make my way towards the blazing fire. It’s not as cold as I expected the closer you get to it. It’s actually kind of nice with the crisp winter air. Making my way around the men I spot mine. I watch him for a moment, holding a can of beer, a large smile on his face, laughing with Bevan about something completely inappropriate I’m sure. It’s a sure sign of being in love when it makes you happy to see your significant other happy. I walk to him and link my arm through his.
“Hey baby.”
“Having fun out here?” I ask.
“Yeah, just having a few laughs with my brotha from anotha motha.”
“Well, I’m glad. I just wanted to snag you because it’s almost midnight and I want my kiss.”
“You got it. Let’s go inside and watch the ball drop, then later you can watch mine,” He says with a wink and a laugh.
I chuckle, roll my eyes and pull him by his hand back inside of the house.
> Everyone is gathered around the large flat screen television watching the ball make its decent.
Ten
Nine
Eight
Seven
Six
Five
Four
Three
Two
One
HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Everyone shouts, cheers, claps, or dances. Not me. I turn to my right, smile in to the eyes of my one true love. He wraps one arm around my back, takes his other hand in mine, dips me down and plants his lips to mine. At first I’m scared he’s going to drop me, but that thought is quickly forgotten when I feel everything he’s saying with this kiss.
A new year.New hopes.New dreams.I got you babe.We got this.With you by my side.
I don’t need any beer or nasty alligator sperm shots. I’m drunk in love with this man, and when we get home I’m going to show him exactly how much.
If there was ever a perfume called Sexual Tension my body would be doused in it. This has been the longest thirty mile drive home. There was no way I was going to even go one mile over the speed limit on New Year’s at two o’clock in the morning knowing how many police are out tonight looking for drunk drivers. Even though I know I am stone cold sober and stopped drinking right at midnight, I still drank tonight. I do not want to end up in handcuffs if it’s not to my bedpost.
I pull in to our driveway a little too fast. I think I just gave Jameson whiplash.
“Whoa, in a rush to pee or something?”
“Or something,” I say taking off my seatbelt and hopping on to his lap crushing my lips to his.
“You’re mine tonight hubby. Let’s get inside.”
Once we get inside the house standing in the first room, the dining room, I don’t waste any time. Grabbing Jameson by the arm I turn him around backing him in to the front door, step up on to my tippy toes I grab the back of his neck pulling him down to me crashing our lips together. His arms immediately wrap around my waist. Seconds later we start frantically undressing each other. Jackets gone and on the floor, tearing off each other’s shirts, unbuttoning our pants while trying to not let our lips part. As soon as I kick my jeans off Jameson spins me around then lifts me up on to the table and slides the glass vase out of the way. With a devilish grin he climbs on the table and crawls on top of me. He straddles my body laying kisses, nibbles and bites all over my face, neck and chest while he unclips and removes my bra. Inching his way down my body laying kisses across my stomach his teeth graze the top of my panties. It tickles. With a girlish smile I look up at him and he still has that devilish grin as we make eye contact. He pulls my panties down with his teeth. Knowing he’ll have trouble I lift my butt up to help the process along. I wanted control of this sexcapade and I feel like I’m losing it so I take advantage that he’s no longer on top of me and sit up quickly so I’m kneeling in front of him. Face to face now I take his cheek in my hand invade his mouth with my tongue hard. I use my other hand to grab hold of what’s mine and start stroking him. It doesn’t take much, he’s already rock hard. I work my way underneath and massage his balls. He groans in my mouth as soon as I start. I know how much he loves that. I’ve never heard of a man that doesn’t. Jameson has one arm wrapped around my waist. His other hand is working up and down my ass sending tingles through my entire body. Before I have the chance to enjoy it for another second his hand quickly leaves my ass and he’s opening my folds.