THREE
what did i tell you about smacking my ass outside of the bedroom?
Alice
I wake abruptly, but don’t open my eyes. The pounding inside my skull is severe, and after the violent way my stomach emptied its contents, I don’t trust myself to make any sudden movements. I need to see where I am, though, because it’s surely not in the bar bathroom anymore. I’m warm, there’s a blanket covering me up, and it smells faintly of honey in here.
“You’re all right,” a gentle voice says somewhere in the room. “You’re safe. When you’re ready to open your eyes, there’s some water and a painkiller next to you.” Something creaks over and over, and I wince at the sound. If there’s a light on, I know it’ll hurt like hell when I open my eyes, but I have to do it.
With a deep breath and placing a hand on my stomach, I squint, taking in the cozy living room. The lights are dim, and it’s still dark out. Across from me is the woman from the bar, Josie, in a rocking chair. She’s focused on whatever is resting on her lap, so I take the opportunity toslowly sit up, gauging my nausea. It’s still lingering, but mostly gone. Once I’ve taken the pill and set the glass down, I look up to find Josie peering at me.
“Just how much did you have to drink before you went to the bar?” The concern in her voice makes my chest hurt. It’s been so long since anyone has worried about me, and part of me wants to ask her why she cares.
Instead, I answer her plainly, “I—I didn’t. I didn’t drink anything.” Her brows shoot up in surprise, or maybe disbelief. “I swear, I didn’t. I’ve never even had alcohol before. That was the first time I drank anything. Ever.” I sniffle, looking around for a box of tissues, and thankfully finding one on a nearby side table.
Josie walks to where I am, sitting on the coffee table and eyeing me curiously. “Your cheeks are very red,” she notes. “And you’re stuffed up.” She nods, looking in my eyes in the dim light. “Hmm. How are you feeling right now?” She places the back of her hand on my clammy forehead, and I close my eyes for a second, leaning into her cool touch.
Catching myself, I sit up a little straighter. “My head really hurts, but I have chronic headaches, so that’s not very unusual for me. I’m still a little nauseous, which also isn’t uncommon with the headaches. I’m stuffed up, like you said, and my skin feels a little hot. I’m tired, but that’s it.” I sniffle again, reaching for another tissue.
“No shortness of breath? Stomach pain? Itching or hives anywhere?” She takes my chin, inspecting each side of my face. “You don’t have any swelling, so that’s a good sign.”
“Um, none of that other stuff, either.” It’s strange that this woman I met mere hours ago seems so invested in my well-being. What could she want with me? “Anyway, I can get going. I’m sure I’ll be fine. But thank you for letting mestay here. That was very nice of you. Can I pay you? Shoot. I haven’t even paid for my drinks yet.” I reach behind me, hoping to find my purse, and when it’s not there, my eyes roam the space, hoping to see it somewhere. Josie just continues to watch me carefully. “I’m sorry. You have no reason to be this nice to me. I can just get my stuff and go, I?—”
Before I can go on with my rambling apology and try to leave, she interrupts me, “I think you have alcohol intolerance. Probably not an allergy, because you don’t seem to be having any other major reactions, unless you have rashes we can’t see. You said earlier that your roommate just invited her boyfriend to move in, so you don’t have a place to go, do you?”
After a brief pause, she lays a hand on my knee, and I flinch, but she doesn’t let up. “It’s okay. I don’t need you to pay me for anything. I was a nurse for years, and my husband has owned that bar for a very long time. Between the two of us, we’ve seen it all, believe me. I’ve taken care of a lot of people over the years. I own the store next to the bar and stick to honey and baked goods since stepping away from healthcare, but once a nurse, always a nurse.” As she gives my knee a squeeze, I look at her. She has a kind face, but people can seem one way and then turn out to be another. I know this. It’s a fact. “I still think you should get a test to make sure it’s not an allergy, but either way, it’s probably best to keep away from alcohol. You can stay here. No need to rush out. If you don’t feel safe, by all means, go, but I’m offering you a pretty comfortable couch and some fresh bread in the morning. Are you new in town?”
Given the way the pounding in my head has just escalated from a single drum to an entire marching band, this couch is looking better by the second. And fresh bread? Isshe kidding me? Bread is my weakness. How does she know?
“Uh, sort of, yes. I’m looking after my grandmother, and I just got a job here.” That’s as much as she’s getting out of me regarding my personal life.
“I already knew you were a good egg. You don’t have to try to prove it to me. I’m an excellent judge of character. Why do you think I called you over at the bar?” She chuckles, like what she said is humorous in any way. She can’t be more than a decade older than me. She doesn’t look a day over forty, and yet she knits on a rocking chair and says things likegood egg. “Anyway, get some rest. Holler if you start to feel any worse. We’ll be down the hall. Beau sleeps like the dead, but I’ll wake up if you need me.”
I lay back and close my eyes, willing the tears building behind my eyelids not to fall. That would be embarrassing. But her words play on a loop until sleep takes over.
If you need me.
When was the last time I needed anyone? Better yet, when was the last time I needed anyone and could count on them to actually take care of me?
I must bein heaven because the air is thick with the scent of fresh bread.
Geez, that smells amazing.
There’s a faint aroma of coffee, too, and I know I’m either dead or dreaming because when have I ever woken up anywhere that smelled this good? That felt this cozy?
“Shh. I told you not to use that stupid kettle, didn’t I? Why can’t you just drink coffee in the morning like anormal person?” The hushed voice is followed by a deep sigh.
“Darlin’, you know there’s nothing normal about me. You’ve known that since we were twelve years old. I like what I like.” The deep male voice is kind, and is followed by a faint thud, then a hiss.
“Beau James Michaelson. What did I tell you about smacking my ass outside of the bedroom?”
The man chuckles. “I don’t remember. Want me to take you in there and you can remind me?”
“Honestly, you are still as insatiable as you were when we married. Get it together. We have a guest.” Through the whispering, I make out that it’s Josie’s voice.
Josie.The bar. Tequila. Vomit.
It all comes back to me as I try to remain perfectly still, keeping my breathing even.
