“Are you dating anyone, Tara?” It doesn’t matter who asks. The bomb has been dropped.
Before I can reply, my mother answers. “Her first love is back in town. Isn’t rekindling an old flame romantic?”
“Mom, that’s not true.” I gesture to the nearest server and smile when she walks over. “Can I please get a Long Island Iced Tea?” I ask, ready for something stronger to drink.
“Of course,” the young redhead says.
I glance around my end of the table. My mother is talking about Axel and how famous he is now and his history with both bands. Mom has done her research.
“Make it strong, please,” I say quietly.
The server laughs and nods before heading off to the bar.
“Mom, Axel is an old boyfriend. Nothing more,” I say, smiling at the other women so I don’t sound like I’m scolding my mom.
“Oh, Tara. Amy’s five years younger than you, andshe’sgetting married.” Aunt Jeanne wags her finger at me. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
Before I can reply, one of Amy’s bridesmaids, whose name I can’t remember, stands up and claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Game time!”
I breathe a sigh of relief at the interruption that will save me from being harassed by my mom and aunt.
“Whenever someone says the wordbaby, we all have to do a shot!” Amy says, lifting her glass and grinning at me. Apparently, she overheard the conversation and knows a good way to get drunk when she hears one.
“It’s not a baby shower,” I remind my sister, but Amy won’t meet my gaze.
A man places shots of what I assume is vodka in front of each person at the table, and the other girls clap their hands and squeal in excitement.
Let the fun begin, I think, laughing. At least I didn’t drive my car; I came with my mother. Once Mom leaves, I’ll call an Uber to get home later.
“Tara, your mom isn’t getting younger, either, and I know she wants grandbabies,” Aunt Jeanne says loudly.
So much for changing the subject. I look at my aunt, who not-so-innocently grins. The woman clearly knows what she’s doing.
“She saidbabies! Shot!” someone calls out.
Only too happy to oblige, I pick up the little glass, brace myself because it has been years since I’ve done one, and pour the liquor into my mouth and gulp it down. The alcohol burns as it slides past my throat and into my chest. No sooner have I swallowed than the empty glass is replaced with a full one.
My aunt, mom, and the other women are on a roll, with me in their sights. Ribbing me about my single status and failure to provide my mother with a grandbaby amuses the older women, who should have gone home by now.Theyaren’t doing shots, I note, but I play the game, getting drunk in an effort to tune out the fun around me.
By the time my mother is ready to go, offering me a ride before she leaves, I am feeling no pain. I’m even enjoying the bridesmaids, who took over the baby challenge, using it against each other. I promise my mother I’ll call a car and assure her I’ll get home fine.
A while later, the room begins to spin, and I stop drinking. I already fended off one or two men who wanted to buy me more alcohol, and I pull out my phone since I haven’t checked it all evening. My texts and emails are empty, and I start thinking about Axel.
I did my best to put him out of my mind because we are so mismatched. But sitting at a table alone, Amy and her friends dancing in the small designated area, I can’t help but pull up his number.
The desire to text him is strong, and a war begins to wage inside my mind.
Angel Tara:Don’t do it, you’re drunk.
Devil Tara:He asked you out. He’d love to hear from you.
Angel Tara:Getting further involved with him can only lead to hurt and trouble.
Devil Tara:Don’t be ababy.
I don’t miss the irony of that particular word. It got me drunk and to this point in the night, phone in hand. And if we hadn’t broken up all those years ago, maybe I’d be married and pregnant with his baby, and I wouldn’t have been the subject of my aunt and mother’s pushing and prodding.
Devil Tara speaks up again:Do it. Do it. Do it.
