Page 25 of Taurus

There’s only silence until I hear the clank of a bottle and a small, whispered voice curse in frustration from the living room.

I step into the doorway and see the small glow of a cell phone from the corner of the room. When I make my way over, I find Parker sitting on the floor between the sofa and the wall with her back against the plaster and a bottle of whiskey on the floor between her legs.

“Don’t,” she says to me plainly and without elaboration.

“Don’t what?” I squat down to be on her level.

“Don’t scold me right now.” She sniffs and wipes her cheek with the back of her hand.

“I wasn’t going to scold you, but I am going to ask if you’re all right. And I’m going to ask if something happened so I know if I need to hurt someone or not,” I say, half kidding, hoping she’ll at least smile a little.

“Nothing happened, that’s the point.” She drops her phone to the floor with a clatter. “He’s gone. It’s real. He’s really never coming back.” Her breath stutters a little and it breaks my heart. I want to grab her, hold her, but I can’t cross that line, not yet, not now. “I guess, somewhere in my heart, I expected this to all be a goddamned nightmare.”

“I wish I knew how to take this away from you, because I would.”

She scoffs and flops her head back against the wall. “I don’t want that either, because you’re mourning him too. It’s not all about me.” She lifts the whiskey bottle to her lips and takes a long sip.

“How much of that have you had?”

She holds the bottle up and squints. “Hold on.” She feels around for her phone then swipes the screen a few times until the flashlight illuminates and shines on the bottle, casting a reddish-brown glow on her face. “A lot,” she admits. “It was full when I started.”

“That’s what I thought.” I reach out for the bottle. “How about you let me have this, and I help you up and to bed?”

“No.” She shakes her head and pushes back against the wall, trying to get away from me. “I’m not ready to move yet. Just… no.”

“Okay, we’ll stay right here, I’ll stay with you, but let me take the bottle. You’ve never been able to handle alcohol well, and I’m worried you’ll be sick tomorrow. Deal?” I still have my hand on the bottle just below hers. Our fingers are nearly touching and when she relents her grasp on the bottleneck, our pinkies slide against one another… and the electric shock is hard to ignore.

“Okay.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Why? You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” I twist the cap back onto the bottle and slide it around to the other side of the couch so it’s out of view.

“I dropped the ball today and got drunk and cried instead.”

“You are coping with the death of someone you love. You don’t have to be embarrassed about how to manage that. You needed to be alone today. That’s okay.” I sink to sit all the way down on my butt, sliding my legs carefully around her so we can stay face-to-face.

“I was thinking about him earlier today.” She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. “He was bright and lively, no matter how bad he felt or what kind of day he was having, he was consistent and present. Everyone loved him. Now he’s been reduced to a fucking cardboard box. Is that what we can all expect for our lives? Trying our best to be good, make a difference in the world, and all we are going to do is end up ashes in a cardboard box?”

“That’s the thing about life, Park, it’s here and then it’s gone, but that doesn’t mean anyone’s memory or legacy is relegated to a cardboard box. Ask anyone in this city. Warren meant so much to everyone in Summer’s Grove. This vineyard, everything he did for the various charities and those in need, he’s going to outlive us by decades… centuries.”

She wipes her eyes with the palms of her hand, and stares at me for a moment. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Put your own feelings aside to make sure that others feel better? You always do that.”

She’s right. I do. I’m a fixer. Plain and simple.

“I guess I can’t help it. Call it a character flaw.”

I wish I could bottle up what I see before me right now and keep it close to my heart for the rest of my life. She’s shrouded in darkness, but the moonlight is kissing her shoulders and shining just a bit across her face. She looks like a work of art that deserves to be admired for the rest of her life.

“It’s not a flaw, but you shouldn’t push your own grief and feelings down.”

“You haven’t spoken to me in ten years, Park. How do you know I still do that?”

“You did it with me when I left.” She looks down at her hands that are now folded in her lap. “You just… accepted my anger and let me go, despite whatever it was you were feeling.”

“Parker, you’re drunk. This isn’t a conversation we need to have when you’re not sober. It’s too big, too important.” I reach for her hand. “Let me help you into bed.”

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