“Dude!” Davey calls out from the front door of the bar. “Sorry, it took me so long.”
I want to sigh because Davey didn’t have to show up on my account tonight. He had to stop home first to prove to Carol-Anne that he wasn’t up to anything shady.
“No worries, bud.” I hold a finger up to Luke, so he knows to double my drink order.
“Wow. There are hot chicks in this hole? Who would have thought?” Davey mutters.
A slight feeling of protectiveness waves over me, but only because I’ve been watching this ongoing train wreck.
“They’re here for a reason, and it isn’t what you think,” I tell him.
As August pushes her stool from the bar, a piercing sound like nails against a chalkboard drives into my head. “You need to mind your own business,” August shouts at her sister.
“You’re making a scene,” May grumbles.
“Yup, you’re right,” August agrees.
“Sit down. This guy will call the sheriff.”
Her cheeks are the color of strawberries, steam is obviously filling her head, and yet I’m surprised to witness the submissive response to her sister as August quietly tucks her stool back to where it was and gently takes a seat.
“Another, please,” August calls over to Luke.
“Damn, those girls are here to get plastered, aren’t they?” Davey suggests.
“One of them is,” I agree.
“The hot-headed one is already half in the bag, it seems.”
It does seem so, but she’s only had one drink from what I’ve been watching. Therefore, her anger is likely from natural causes. Now that I know a man might have something to do with this, I suppose it’s understandable.
Davey is chatting my ear off about Carol-Anne, but I’m doing my best to eavesdrop on the girls’ heated conversation.
“Why are you drinking like this?” May asks.
“Why not?” August replies to her question, lacking concern.
“Look, Auggie, I’m worried about you. People don’t just snap back after going through what you did.”
August shakes her head as she chugs down the new drink Luke placed in front of her.
“Another, please.”
Luke seems annoyed, but August hasn’t caused any issues for him since she started coming here. He can’t say much, I suppose.
“Give me your keys,” May demands.
“I didn’t drive.” August replies with haste.
“You walked?”
“Yes.”
“You’re acting like a lunatic. I don’t even know what to think right now.”
“Everyone adjusts to life in their unique way, May. Let me adjust.”
I’ll regret this. I stand up from my stool, Davey continues talking to his glass about having to do the dishes after supper last night, but I take a few steps down the bar and step behind the sisters. “Ladies,” I greet them.
