"To how you are, in some respects. If she knows the reason for how you were, too, it will be easier to understand."
"But I'm fine now."
"Yes, you are. I was thinking it would add some insight into why you're the person you are, though."
"I'll tell her someday. But not now."
He pats me on the shoulder. "Your call. See you tomorrow night. Are you bringing Vivi?"
I laugh. "I don't know. I'm going to spring it on her."
Granddad grumbles. "Oh, Prescott. I won't tell your grandmother about that. She'd chase you around with that old wooden spoon of hers."
I'd like to chase Vivi around with a wooden spoon, now that I think of it.
"I can be very persuasive when I want to be, you know."
"I'm sure you can be. I'm old, but I do have my memory."
We both chuckle at that one. I'm sure Granddad was a player until he met Grand. He's still a charmer with the opposite sex.
"And, Granddad, that idea about Denver … " I let my voice trail off.
"I understand. We'll table it. If the need arises over there, we can rethink it at a later date. Just focus on recentering yourself, son."
I work well past ten, catching up on things I've been slack on lately and then go home to change. When I'm there I start thinking about what Granddad said about telling Vivi. I toss a bourbon back, because the thought of it sets me on edge.
Picking up the phone, I call Weston. When he answers, I check to see if he has a minute. Interrupting him on a Friday night isn't something I like to do. He lets me know it's fine, so I call Harrison and loop him into the conversation.
"What's the deal, Scotty? It must be bad to get us all on board," Harrison asks.
"Yeah. It's about Vivi."
"Vivi?"
"Vivi Renard." And I fill Harrison in on what's going on with her since I haven't talked to him about it.
"Holy shit. I remember you mentioning her when we went to dinner that night. So you're banging ViviVoom, then?"
"If you ever call her that again, I'll beat you to a bloody pulp."
"Dude, back it off a little. I didn't mean anything by it, okay?"
"She was bullied by those assholes at Crestview. Were you one of them, Harrison?"
"No! I never did shit like that. It was what the girls called her. Calm it down, man."
"Hey, Scotty, it's cool, okay? He didn't mean anything by it," Weston chimes in.
"Okay, yeah."
"So, brother, what do you need?" Weston asks.
"I have to tell her. The whole fucking story. And you know how I am about that."
"Fuck. Listen, just do it, and get it over with. If she's worth having a relationship with, she'll be cool and levelheaded about it," Harrison says.
"It's me I'm worried about."
"Prescott, I've told you this before. The situation was bad but the perception in your mind is worse."
"Yeah, well, I doubt that."
"Think about Special and me. We had a shit-ton of obstacles to overcome, yet we did it. I know you'll be good, man." Weston wears rose-colored glasses ever since he fell in love. I envy the hell out of him.
Our three-way conversation continues with them eventually convincing me to tell Vivi. They have a point. If she knows, everything about me will be out in the open. So far my opening up has only made her like me more, and I have no reason to believe she'd ever use this information against me in any way. So I agree.
After we're done discussing my shit, I'm on my third bourbon, which is stupid, because I need a clear head, when Harrison mentions something about Midnight Drake being home from rehab. I'm only half paying attention because I'm still trying to figure out what to say to Vivi.
"Good luck with it all," I say.
"Hey, same to you."
We end the call wishing each other a Merry Christmas in case we don't talk again. It's a little after eleven, so I get ready to head to The Meeting Place. Vivi doesn't get off until one, but I can wait for her there. I'm on my fourth drink and feeling the buzz. My alcohol consumption has decreased significantly in the last month or two, so it doesn't take me nearly as much to get drunk. Right before I head out, I decide to hit the pipe. A little herbal encouragement might ease the tension between my shoulder blades, not to mention in my skull.
On the way there, I realize that hit off the bowl wasn't the best idea. I'm completely buzzed. What the fuck was I thinking? Maybe it'll be too dark and crowded in there for her to notice. The last thing I want is for Vivi to see me completely hammered.
When I get out of the car, I stumble onto the sidewalk and nearly fall as I bump into someone. Excusing myself, I head inside. Thank God it's packed. Weaving my way up to the bar, I spy her as she awkwardly makes drinks with the broken arm. I have to hand it to her, though, she doesn't miss a beat. She laughs at something a customer says and keeps on working.
Eventually, I get a seat at the bar, but it takes a lot of wedging my way in here and there. At last I order my favorite bourbon from my favorite girl.
"I wondered when you'd show up."
"And here I am. You're pretty handy there with that arm."
"Oh, yeah." She offers me a grin as she slides me my drink. "You wouldn't believe what I can do one-handed."
"Is that a fact?"
"Uh-huh." Then she races to the next customer, leaving me to my drink and my whacked thoughts. Jesus, why the hell am I so cracked about this? It's Vivi and she'll be fine. She knows most of it, except for the finer details.
Uh, right. Beckham. You left out that little detail where you didn't speak for a year.
I guzzle my drink and slam my glass on the bar. She hears it and looks at me with a raised brow. I toss her an I'm sorry look but raise my glass to let her know I need another.
"Thirsty tonight?" she asks.
"Something like that." My words are slurred. It's loud in here and I hope she doesn't notice. Maybe I should've gotten a table so she can't count the number of drinks I have. "Why don't you get me a couple? Then you won't have to bother with me so much."
"Are you okay?" she asks.
"Sure." I give her my best smile, but my lips feel a little numb.
She's giving me odd looks, but I can't do anything about that. She brings me two bourbons. At this rate, she's going to have to walk me home and not the other way around.
Two hours later, I'm completely shitfaced.
We get ready to leave and the stagger I unsuccessfully try to disguise is an all-out indication of my state of sobriety.
"Prescott, you're tanked."
"Completely. Let's go. There's a car waiting."
"Why did you drink so much?"
"Because I had to."
When we get to the car, I almost face plant on the curb, but somehow, I do a little twirl thing and laugh it off as a dance move. "Weston would be impressed."
"Weston?"
"You wouldn't believe the way the man can dance. He's a regular Justin Timberlake."
"Uh-huh. And you're absolutely gray goosed."
She made a funny. I slap my knee and howl like a wolf. Then I think on that.
"Little Wolf is funny." Then I go, "A-Woo," in my best wolf imitation.
She pats me on the back. I'm not sure if she thinks it's good or not.
The ride home is a blur but when we get to my place, she half drags me to the elevator as I wave to the guys at the desk. When the doors close, it's only the two of us and I know I have to say something.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have had so many boo-bons." Jeez, I'm trying not to slur, but it's so hard.
"I can't imagine why you drank so much."
"There's something I have to tell you, and it scares me. I hate to talk about it, so I guess I got drunk." My brain tells me I sound a lot clearer to myself than I'm sure she hears.
We get to my floor and I stumble to the door. When we get inside, she helps me to the bedroom.
"Let me get you some water," she says.
I'm brushing my teeth or trying to anyway when she returns. I have more toothpaste on my face than in my mouth.
"You look like a toddler," she says.
"Ishthatbad?"
She pulls the toothbrush out of my hand and tells me to spit and rinse. Then she wipes my face off.
"Can I kish you, Vivi?"
She gives me a quick kiss. It's not enough, so I pout. Her hand reaches for mine and then she tugs me into the bedroom. "Lie down, mister. I think you need to sleep."
"No, no. I need to tell you something. It's why I drank so much."
Her hand shoves me backward and I plop on the bed. She takes off my shoes and I look up at her sadly.
"I'm such an idiot. I had it all planned. I was going to tell you my stupid secret. And now look at me. I'm so stupid drunk you won't listen to me."
She lies down next to me and takes my hand. "What is so awful that you had to get so hammered to tell me?"
I roll on my side, and a dizzy wave smacks me in the head, but I don't let it deter me. Staring at her, I say, "You're so pretty. Have I ever told you this? I mean absofuckinglutely smack me in the balls beautiful."