A Toast to the Good Times

by Liz Reinhardt

  I look at her lips, twitching with frustration, and remember how damn careful and perfectly sweet her kisses were.

  I don’t remember that crazy mad look in her eyes, ever, when we dated, and wonder if it would transfer to her lips now.

  Would everything ignite if I leaned over and kissed her right now?

  I realize I need to get my head back on straight and stop thinking about kissing girls from my past.

  And from my present, come to think of it.

  “Funny how we haven’t seen each other in five years—”

  “Four,” she interrupts and pops all the knuckles on her left hand, then starts on her right. “It’s been four years, Landry.”

  “Alright, four,” I concede, and grab her hand in mine just to stop that irritating popping noise.

  It’s an old habit, to touch her like this. I don’t have the right, but in the cold quiet of this train and the strange perimeters of this totally bizarre chance meeting, it’s like we’re right back where we were the night we broke up.

  The connection only lasts for one sparking second before she yanks her hand out of my grasp and shakes it out.

  It takes her two seconds, maybe, before she shakes her head, clears her throat, and looks at me, perfectly composed like she always is. “You were saying? That it’s funny it’s been four years and…?”

  She’s tucking her long, shiny hair behind her ears, which stick out a little. She definitely wants me to think she’s got it all under control, but I know I’ve got her flustered, and that fact makes me sit back and just enjoy.

  “Right. It’s funny how four years have gone by, but we jumped right back into our old habits. Still annoying the crap out of each other. Still pissing each other off.”

  She turns towards me in the seat and reaches up with both hands, tugging at either side of my crumpled collar where it’s been crushed by my coat. She has these long, elegant fingers and she uses them to smooth the fabric back out and probably make me look three times more respectable with that single move.

  “Your collar was always a mess. It makes you look unfinished. Always did.”

  She has a dimple that dents in on her left cheek. I love the asymmetrical way it unbalances her face. Has it always been there?

  I slide my hand to hers slowly and tap one finger on the point of her middle knuckle.

  “And popping your knuckles is your tell. Keep it under wraps, Toni, and your enemies won’t be able to read that you’re nervous.” I draw my finger over the ridges and bumps of her hand, which she’s relaxed out of a fist.

  “My enemies?” She laughs and her eyes follow the trail my finger makes. “Why do I get the feeling you always saw me as the female version of Genghis Khan?”

  “I never said you reminded me of Genghis Khan,” I scoff. She tilts her head and I add, “Mr. Ryan told us he was a redhead in freshman history class, right? You’re so much more a Henry the VIII type.”

  Her laugh loosens something in my chest and makes me feel instantly good, like I just tossed back a decent shot of smooth whiskey.

  “He was obese, Landry!” She moves her hand so her fingers drum my knee. It seems nonchalant, but it’s clearly not.

  “You’re like a young, svelte Henry VIII,” I amend and rub a hand over my scruff before I stretch out, pushing my leg further into her space. “So, what’s been up with you since we last talked?”

  She knits her eyebrows. “Well, when we last talked, I was in my sophomore year at NYU. I think I was still a bio major, right?”

  I have no clue what her major was, but I love the way she’s looking at me, her face easy and pretty, so I lie. “Yeah, it was at the fair over the summer when I saw you, and you told me about the bio stuff. So that didn’t work out? You didn’t want to be a scientist or whatever?”

  One light eyebrow goes up and her fingers go still on my leg like she can see right through my lie. “It was actually my attempt to make a stab at pre-med. What happened was that I interned at a local veterinary office and passed out when they let me sit in on a sheep’s emergency throat surgery.”

  “You passed out?” I smile, just a little, and she smiles back and blushes. “Really? Out cold?”

  “Cold.” She starts out nodding, but it turns into a headshake. “I switched majors pretty quickly after that. The sheep was fine, by the way.”

  “Right,” I laugh. “Forgot all about the poor woolly guy. I just keep picturing you face-planting on some hospital floor.”

  Toni rolls those big brown eyes. “Your compassion has always been your finest quality, Landry.” She shrugs out of her coat and clutches her scarf anxiously. “Anyway, I switched to a double major in business and music. So I help my parents do all the books for their flower shop, and I commute to the city three days a week for graduate training at CUNY. I was coming back from a late rehearsal tonight.”

  “Where is your fiddle?” I look to see if it’s lying on the floor or something, but she’s traveling light.

  “Violin,” she corrects, automatically, before she can catch herself. It’s one of our old jokes, a mistake I used to make constantly and on purpose just to get her riled. Her smile is self-deprecating. “Funny, Landry. You know, I also play piano. That’s what I was rehearing tonight. It’s for a concert.”

  “A PhD in music.” I sound impressed, and it’s not bullshit. I am impressed as all hell. “So you kinda got it all figured out, don’t you?”

  When she looks at me, her face is serious, but not accusatory. “That was the plan. All that studying and achieving in high school? That was so I could be freer now. And it was worth it. I was stuck then anyway. Now I’m free in a way I wouldn’t have been if I hadn’t worked so hard back then.”

  “Free, huh?” I shake my head. “All that time I thought you were uptight because that was just who you were. Now I find out it was all part of this elaborate, grown-up plan? And you try to tell me you aren’t descended from some crazy scheming overlord? Cause I’m not buying it.”

  She pulls both her hands back into her lap, then holds them in front of her body and, finally, moves them up to my face. She cups my jaw, pulls me forward gently, and kisses me.

  It’s not careful. But it is sweet. So damn sweet, but with an edge of something darker, something hidden deep under all those layers of quiet calm. Something wild and new and completely shocking.

  She pulls back abruptly, and it’s like someone yanked a plug out of the wall and cut the only light in the room. I feel disoriented, eager for more, and equally as eager to get as far away from her and the second crazy kiss of this cursed holiday evening.

  She takes a long, shaky breath and runs her fingers over her lips. “That was…I’m sorry. I didn’t even wait to ask if you’re with anyone, and don’t tell me if you are.” She holds her other hand up like she’s stopping traffic in an intersection at rush hour. “It was one kiss, and I know for a fact it didn’t mean a thing to you.”

  I open my mouth and she transfers her fingers from her lips to mine. “Don’t. I don’t know why I did that. I think it was to show you that I’m not that girl you broke up with after high school. Or maybe it was just you. You’re still all perfect cheekbones and that hair? What guy makes curly hair work? Don’t say anything, okay? You’re sexy. You’re still just as sexy as you were, but, the difference is that I’m sexy now, too. It wouldn’t be so one sided anymore, would it?”

  “Ton—”

  “Shut up!” she laughs and bites her lip. “I’m obviously just…having a moment, Landry. I just…I never expected to see you on the train tonight. Why would you be on this train tonight? The one night I stayed late and caught the last train home? And a week after I was thinking about us and what we could have had if I hadn’t been such a total priss and you hadn’t been such an insensitive prick. Even though I had to be. I did. But I don’t just go kissing random guys on trains. Not that you’re random. I mean, we were together for three years. For three years you were mine.” She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes
her head. “Okay. Enough. That’s…I’ve made a big enough fool of myself. Okay. Done. I’m leav—”

  I pull her back down, back next to me, and cover my lips with hers again. The kiss is short and a little rough, because I want to make her be quiet, and I want to dig fast and sure back to that place where we just were.

  She arches towards me and I press my hand against her back, doing my best to pull her close through the layers of clothes she has on. My tongue runs along the inner edge of her lips, and she opens for me, her hands yanking at the back of my neck and pulling me closer.

  Her kisses press sure and sort of frantic, across my mouth and along my neck, back to my ear, down my jaw. She’s half on my lap, her skirt edged high enough that I can see the tops of her stockings, thigh-highs secured with little black bows.

  Unexpected and sexy as hell.

  When my hands start to edge where they shouldn’t, she peels back and holds both her hands pressed to her cheeks.

  “Whoa. No. Wow.” Toni shakes her head and the laugh that hiccups out of her throat is slightly embarrassed. “What is it about you?” she asks me, squinting as she pulls her coat back on and buttons it right up to her chin, even though she’s obviously warm from our energetic make out session. “It’s those curls, I think. Seriously, I’ve never seen another guy who can get away with curly hair and make it sexy. And you have the bluest eyes. I guess I’m just a sucker for the Black Irish look, and you’ve got it, Landry. Holy shit, you’ve got it, and I fall for it every damn time.”

  “I’m feeling kinda used,” I joke, and when I smile, she sighs and shakes her head.

  “Why did you have to be on this train tonight? Why?” She flicks my collar back into place, but when I go to take her hand and pull her closer, she draws it back. She stays next to me, but keeps her back ramrod straight. Her eyes are closed when she asks, “You have a ride from the station?”

  The train is pulling in. Our ride is over.

  I’m partially relieved. I’m partially let down.

  “Paisley’s picking me up.” Damn it.

  “Paisley?” Toni tucks her scarf neatly into her coat, looking like the put-together New York City PhD student she is. “Of course, she drives now. In my head, she’s still fourteen and obsessed with getting her braces off.”

  “She got them off. Come by and check out her teeth. They’re incredibly straight.” I grin at her, and I love the way she draws a quick, sharp breath in.

  “Not a good idea. At all. I think this…” She gestures to the empty train car, suddenly bright now that we’ve stopped and all the lights are up. “This was a good way to excise what needed…” She rolls her hands. “You know…everything that needed to get out.”

  “You’re sure that’s everything?”

  I’m playing with fire. I’m tired, I’m hung-over, hell, and maybe I’m still drunk. I’m about to face the family I betrayed, and I have yet to text the friend whose heart I crushed. But this slice of time with Toni felt like the best visit back to my past I could have hoped for.

  And I don’t want it to end yet.

  She hesitates a few beats, then pulls her phone out and hands it to me. I grab it so fast, I almost drop it, type my number in, and send myself a text message.

  “You still eat disco fries?” I hand her phone back and she looks at the screen for a few seconds too long.

  “Um, yeah. I mean, if we can go to The Queen. Even the best diner in New York City doesn’t do disco fries like The Queen.” She scrunches her face up like the next words hurt. “But maybe no? No. Yes, no it is. This was good enough, Landry. This was what I needed.”

  She steps out the open door onto the platform, and I step after her, but I catch her wrist before she can get too far away from me.

  “Disco fries at The Queen. That will be everything. Full circle, right?”

  Her face falls a little, and I feel like a total dick. Full circle might be a pretty hurtful journey down memory lane for Toni. I wasn’t on my best behavior the last time we were at that little diner. But she’s not that timid girl from my past anymore. She raises her big, brown eyes, sweet but brutally assessing, and nods at me.

  “Full circle. Okay. Call me. I guess.”

  I watch as she walks over to her car and gets in, not even giving me a backward glance as she pulls away.

  The quick, sharp honk of a horn makes me jump.

  “Landry! C’mon! It’s late and it’s freezing!” Paisley’s head is leaned out the rolled-down window and her hand is waving me over to her beat-up Volvo.

  I jog to the car and I slide into the passenger seat, glad for the full blast of the heat blowing from the vents. She leans over and grabs me hard and tight in a hug.

  “I missed you so bad, Landry.”

  I turn so I can crush my kid sister in my arms. Her curls smell like strawberries, the way they have since she was a tiny thing.

  “I missed you, too, kid.” My voice catches on the words.

  I kissed Toni a few minutes ago, now Paisley’s in my arms. The best parts of home have crashed into me, full bore.

  Now I have to go and face the downhill slide the rest of this damn holiday is sure to provide.

  Chapter 5

  “Jesus, Paisley, slow down.”

  I push on the dash with my boot and death-grip the door handle as Paisley takes the turn on the icy road going about twenty miles faster than she really should.

  “Landry, it’s fine. I drive down this road every single day,” my little sister says.

  She lets out a light laugh and casually grips the steering wheel at the bottom with one hand while she twirls her hair around the other. I know she’s just stating a fact, letting me know she’s long memorized every curve and bump in this road, but it still feels like a dig about me never being around anymore.

  And if Paisley’s off-the-cuff remark feels like a dig, I can only imagine how bad it’s going to be when I talk to Dad.

  “How’d Mom and Dad take it? You know, when you told them I’d be coming home?”

  Paisley drops the long strand of hair she’s been playing with and places both hands on the wheel at two and ten. She stares out the window like she’s suddenly the world’s most cautious driver.

  “Paisley?” I push.

  She forces out a heavy sigh.

  “So, maybe I didn’t tell them. Yet.”

  “Paisley! What the hell?”

  She slouches into the seat like she’s trying to disappear into the leather. “I know! I’m sorry, I just really wanted you to come, and when you said that you would, I got so excited I sorta forgot and—”

  “You didn’t forget. You’re a coward.” I’m half-joking. This night has already dragged on for what feels like days, and I’m too worn out to fight.

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry, Landry. It’ll be fine. Mom misses you so much.”

  The fact that she doesn’t mention our dad at all isn’t lost on me.

  “And how do you think Dad will react?”

  Paisley sighs again. “Dad is Dad… He’s stubborn. And hurt. But it’s just a bar. You’re still his son. It’ll be okay…I think.”

  She mumbles the last two words low enough that I wonder if she knows she even spoke them out loud.

  The thing is, she’s so wrong.

  It wasn’t just a bar.

  I know that now, even though I’ve only been putting my heart into mine for the last year. I can’t imagine what it felt like to almost lose this thing that you’d put your entire life into, that your father put his heart and soul into and passed down to you.

  But I was a stupid, selfish kid who only wanted out of our shithole town, and if I spent my money to save Dad’s bar, I’d still be stuck here.

  Besides, if Granddad didn’t want me to get out of New Jersey, he wouldn’t have left nearly his entire fortune to me.

  I don’t know if I’m convincing myself or just rationalizing.

  “We’ll see,” I say. “And if it’s not, it’s on you.” I smile at Pai
sley so she knows I’m not pissed. Not too pissed, at least.

  “It will! It’s Christmas! The time for all joyous things and miraculous family healing!”

  “That’s a load of bullshit, you know that, right?” I grin, but regret it as I watch Paisley’s mouth fall into a disappointed frown. I forget how sensitive she can be sometimes. I jump topics, hoping to erase some of the awkwardness. “Anyway, what’s all this big announcement stuff?”

  Paisley rolls her eyes. “I told you, I’m telling everyone all at once. Tomorrow.”

  “Ah, Squirrelly, you made me catch a train. In the middle of the night. And you’re not even going to give me a hint?”

  “No. Dealing with you all at one time will be more than enough. So, stop asking. And for the love of fruitcake, stop calling me Squirrelly.”

  I can’t. I’ve done it since she was born, when Mom and Pop brought her home from the hospital and she was all tiny and squirmy with that fuzzy red hair. She looked like the squirrels in our yard. So that’s what she’s been.

  “Fine. As long as you’re not pregnant with that religious zealot, Cal’s kid, we’re golden. Squirrelly.”

  Paisley purses her lips and sighs.

  “Please don’t call Calvin that. He is a devoted Christian. There’s nothing wrong with that, Landry. Just because you never see the inside of a church these days—”

  I think I know where this is going, so I cut her off.

  “You’re not about to become Mrs. Bible-Beater, are you? Don’t tell me you’re marrying that creep, Paisley. Do you remember that time he got caught—”

  “Landry, I’m not marrying him. Just stop. Seriously.”

  She shakes her head, and looks like my mom when she does. It’s a simple gesture, but still so heavy on the disappointment. The same shake of the head Mom gave me as she signed the papers to bail me out of jail.

  “This is how you want to end up? Here?” My mother was glaring at me as she signed the paperwork that would officially release me from the county lockup and let me back into the world. Her dark hair was pulled back in a crazy bun and she was wearing her old granny glasses with the croakies, so I knew my call must have interrupted her during a knitting marathon.