She lets out a whimper that luckily only I’m close enough to hear. Thenshe raises her cup to her lips and tips her head back to finish the contents of it before proclaiming, “I think I need another one.”
“I promise you, you don’t,” I say with a laugh.
She huffs adorably. “Well, fine. I guess I don’tneedone. But I want one.” She widens her eyes at me in what I assume is an attempt to look innocent and sober, then adds, “Please?”
I shake my head, unable to hold back my amused smile. It’s cute that she seems to be asking my permission. I’m tempted to tell her she’s had enough, but she’s an adult, and I suppose there’s no harm in letting her get wasted if that’s what she wants. As long as she doesn’t blame me in the morning when she feels like shit.
Not that I’ll be with her in the morning. I’m not assuming anything.
But I do know I’ll make sure she gets back safely.
“You’re the one who’ll have to suffer the hangover,” I remind her.
Laughing like that was a joke, she starts to stand up, but when she almost falls, I urge her back down and tell her I’ll get the drink for her.
“Thank you!” she says, smiling and batting her long eyelashes at me. “You’re the best.”
As I get up, she’s already turning away from me and joining in with the rest of the group singing what sounds like an edited version of “Get Low.” There’s something seriously wrong with this town, I swear. Maybe we should start checking for gas leaks.
I weave my way through the groups of drunken adults and rowdy kids until I reach Ellie’s table. There’s a small line, so I stand at the back of it and quickly realize that the people in front of me are Brenden, Travis, and Brenden’s teenage daughter May.
Travis has a bottle of Sam Adams Summer Ale in one hand, his other arm wrapped around Brenden’s shoulders. Brenden is leaning into him, and as I watch them, I catch Travis duck his head down to kiss the top of Brenden’s. It’s way more affection than I’m used to seeing from him, but I’m glad that Brenden has this. He deserves it. Even if he is way too often a meddling pain in my ass.
The smart thing to do would be to keep my mouth shut. But it’s inevitable that they’re going to notice me, so I get it over with and say, “Hey.”
The little group of three turns around, and it’s immediately obvious that Brenden has had at least as many cups of punch as Riley.
“Addison!” he exclaims. “My wonderful chef! My favorite cook in the world, except for my man, of course.” He slaps a hand against Travis’s stomach, and Travis just shakes his head and tightens his arm around him. “What are you doing here? Oh, wait! I bet I know why you’re here. I bet it’s because of someone named R-I-L—”
Travis moves his hand up to cover Brenden’s mouth, which I’m grateful for.
“You’re the one who’s always trying to force me to get into the town stuff,” I tell my boss.
“I feel your pain,” Travis says solemnly.
Brenden drags Travis’s hand off his mouth. “But you never listen to me. Why, oh why, does nobody ever listen to me? People should know I’m very intellibent. Intelli... Indigi...” He shakes his head. “I’m super smart and stuff.”
“Oh, boy,” May says, patting her dad’s shoulder sympathetically.
He brushes her off, and then, as the crowd sings about getting low, he yells, “Oh my god, yes!” and attempts to do exactly that. This quickly results in his ass hitting the ground and his legs swinging up over his head.
My look of utter disbelief must be mistaken for concern, because as Travis bends down to help up his drunk boyfriend, he says to me, “It’s okay, I’m the responsible one here. I won’t let him knock himself out or anything.”
Brenden wipes the grass off his shorts, looking entirely unphased and unembarrassed by his ridiculous lack of coordination. Right then, the woman at the front of the line gets her cup and moves out of the way, leaving Brenden next to order. He asks Ellie for one spiked punch andone regular. When she hands him the two cups, he turns to May and gives her the red one, while Travis is too busy grabbing Brenden’s ass to notice. Now I’m starting to wonder if Travis might have already had some punch too.
Before I can say anything, May sighs and switches with Brenden for the blue cup. Looking at me, she says, “Don’t worry.I’mactually the responsible one.”
“I don’t doubt that,” I tell her, as Brenden and Travis both give an offended, “Hey!”
The three of them head back to their seats, and I grab a cup of punch to deliver to Riley. When she sees me, she shouts excitedly, “Hey, you’re back!” and almost drops the cup as I hand it to her.
Yikes.Maybe I really should have cut her off.
But I can’t bring myself to ruin the fun she’s clearly having. I also can’t hate the way she starts leaning against me for support once sitting up becomes too difficult for her.
And if I find her enthusiasm so infectious that I end up singing along to one or two songs with her by the end of the night?
Well, nobody can prove that. They’re all too drunk.
