“Fine, Nordstrom Rack, but it’s still brand new. Tags on it and everything. Have I satisfied your curiosity?”
“Yes.”
“If you feel sorry for me, I’ll make you suffer,” I told him.
I didn’t want him to pity me. I wanted his respect.
“Do you feel sorry for me?”
For losing his wife, he meant. I suppose I did, and I imagined he would hate that as much as I would.
I couldn’t answer him. “I’ll go write up the meeting notes before I forget the details.”
He nodded and then turned his attention back to his ever-engaging monitors. Only this time, I didn’t think he was actually seeing what was in front of his face.
I think he was stuck in the past.
Some place and time with Allison.
If I was honest, this feeling in my chest suddenly, it was jealousy.
ELEVEN
GRANT
They told him the grief would get easier. They lied.
September 28th
I was drunk.The good news was, I was still coherent enough to realize I was drunk. The bad news was, I was drunk enough to have lost all common sense. I was in that place where rational decision making was gone, replaced by bad ideas.
This, coming here, was a bad idea.
But it was September 28thand I didn’tdoSeptember 28thvery well.
It was a Sunday. In the middle of the afternoon. I was already shit-faced drunk and Flowers wasn’t even home.
Of course, I knew where she lived. I’d approved of the apartment. I’d gotten the credit check waived. I’d even recommended several mattress stores. Because for some unknown reason, mattress stores abounded in Houston. You really had to know which ones to trust.
“Holy shit, E.G., is that you?”
I was sitting outside the door of her apartment. The complex was an open one, without elevators or security, which I’d been unsure of at first. But having called a few Houston realtors, I’d been assured of the location and the overall safety rating of the building. Flowers was on the third floor, something that had proven to be really irritating when navigating the flights of stairs drunk. Fortunately, I’d managed not to fall over a railing and break something.
She was carrying two reusable shopping bags from a local grocery store chain. Made sense. Sunday would be a good day to shop for the week. Flowers liked to bring her lunch with her to work. Saved her money and forced her to eat healthier, she claimed.
She ate every day now. Multiple times a day. There was satisfaction in that.
“What is the matter? Did something happen…oh shit, you’re drunk.”
She’d gotten close enough to smell me, I suppose. It wasn’t because I was that drunk, I didn’t think, where it was leaking out of my pores. More because, as I’d been sitting here, lifting the whiskey bottle to my mouth, some had spilled on my shirt.
“I’m drunk, Flowers.”
Her lips pursed. “Yes, I can see that. What are you doing here?”
“You’re the only one I know who won’t ask me about the accident. I thought I would be safe here.”
She moved then to open her apartment door with her keys. “You’re going to come inside. I’m going to make you some coffee and alcohol-absorbing food. I hope you like the Kraft.”
