My stupid stubbornness got in the way, like it seems to do a lot.
“Evan, it wasn’t your fault the roof leaked. These things just happen.”
“I could have stopped it from happening, though.”
“Okay, it seems we’re both feeling particularly tender tonight.” She hooks up the final mug and throws the dish towel into the washer. However, her eyes remain on the half-drunk bottle of whisky on the counter, and she picks it up, jostling it in her palms. I haven’t touched it for what feels like a long time, but my sister is a big whisky drinker, so I always keep some around for when she visits.
“Want a pity pour?”
I draw my eyebrows together. “What’s a pity pour?”
“You know, when you feel sorry for yourself and need a pity pour? A drink to celebrate a shitty day. My Dad and I used to do it when he and my mom first got divorced.”
“Your parents are divorced?”
Flo holds out her finger to stop me. “Ah, no questions without a pity pour.” She raises a brow at me, and I nod, so she grabs two glasses out of the cupboard and pours a shot in each.
The amber liquid splashes around inside the glass as we make our way to the porch. The wind has now died down, so the rain is no longer being blown in the direction of the house. We sit on the porch chairs—after I’ve wiped them with my sleeve— and face the storm.
The sound of the rain is calming, a stark contrast to the sharp and tangy taste of the amber liquid I sip, which burns my throat.
“What do we do now?” I stare down into my glass.
“Feel sorry for ourselves. For one night only.” Flo smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Shall I start?”
My hand signals for her to go ahead.
“Okay, to answer your question, yes. My parents divorced out of nowhere when I was eighteen. My sister, Megan, and I weren’t expecting it, but I think they decided they were better off as friends than a couple.” She sips her drink, face completely neutral as she talks. “It was a shock, but it didn’t really affect me. My Dad, though, was a little bit of a mess, so I stayed with him for a while, and hence”—she holds up the glass—”the many pity pours.”
I notice the dark circles under her eyes, and seeing me looking, Flo continues. “I’m just tired. Tired of having this condition that affects me every day, and tired of worrying about what I’m going to do with the rest of my life. My friends all seem to have it figured out. Mae works with animals. Poppy’s studying psychology. My sister is in law school. Sometimes, I feel like the underachiever. I know I’m twenty-six and I still have time, but time is going too quickly, and it’s freaking me the fuck out. I feel like I blink and I’ve gained a year of life, and I hate thinking that way, because I’m supposed to be the fun one. The carefree one. But sometimes, I’m not, and I feel bad about it.”
Absorbing her words, I incline my head. Flo’s known as the cool and calm friend and sister, like nothing sticks with her for too long. But I see the cracks. She carries herself well, not just for herself, but for the sake of others.
“Although I can’t say I understand what you’ve been through, Flo, I still sympathise. But you have to remember that having diabetes doesn’t make you weak. Your body works a little differently, but the amount of discipline you have to possess to do what you do every day is something most people don’t have. Fuck, it’s discipline that I don’t have. You have something unique about you. Embrace it. It might be shitty sometimes, but that only makes you stronger.”
She looks like she wants to roll her eyes, but one look from me, and she doesn’t.
“Can you afford it?”
“Huh?”
“The insulin. Everything you need. Can you afford it?” I press.
“It costs, but it’s fine—nothing I can’t afford. I have insurance. I get that others aren’t always as lucky, though, so I’m grateful for that.”
Humming, I relax a little because I don’t know how I would have reacted had Flo told me she was struggling to afford her medication. I would have immediately upped her pay, hoping she wouldn’t notice.
I continue. “And when it comes to figuring out what you want to do with the rest of your life, I promise you that you have tons of time. Starbound was a learning curve to help you figure out what you definitely don’t want to do in life. There are so many different avenues you could take, Flo. I’ve seen you. You have many talents.”
“That’s true. Not sure you’ll be able to find another nanny like me.” Flo lifts her drink up, but I shake my head.
“That, stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Using humour to get through moments where you feel awkward. You might not believe it, Flo, but you are a talented woman. Alexander failed to see that, and good riddance to him because you were wasted on a place like Starbound. I know that whatever you do next, you’re going to excel at it. I mean, you’re the best nanny Leo’s ever had, and you went into it thinking it would just be a bit of fun.”
“Thank you.” Flo’s face softens with joy before her nose tinges red.
