Page 19 of The New Year's Party
“Who sent that pack of lies to you?”
“I don’t know!” John raised innocent hands.
“This is a bunch of bullshit! You can’t fire me over this!”
“I wanted to have a calm conversation with you, Doug. Can we please—”
“Because this is illegal! You don’t even have an HR department! Molly is a joke, okay? If you guys had your shit together, you would know that this is discrimination, and I can sue your fuckingassesover this—”
John raised his voice. “Look, Doug, this showed up in my fax machine right before you got here. What do you expect me to do? Keep you on, wait for—”
“Oh, so some rando just sent it to you?”
“It appears so.”
“And you believe them?”
“I made some calls and—”
Nope. Hell to the nope.
“This is some goddamn bullshit, and you know it, John! I’ve sold your fucking gutters all over town and there isno onebetter than me! You think you can replace me? Guess again. I’m going to tarnish your fucking business all over the internet for this. And get a lawyer. Oh, and also? Fuck you, and fuck your fat, ugly wife.”
He stormed out. As he passed reception, he slammed a fist into the doughnuts. He heard Molly gasp as he blew through the front door. He barely felt the cold, that’s how hot he was inside. There was a little bar across the street. He was eighty-nine days sober, and you know what, every day had been a fuckingtrial, no one knew how hard it was to stay clean, but now they had bullied him and provoked him and pushed him right to the edge—
Doug stormed into the bar.
“We’re not open,” said a young woman—a girl, really—who was polishing cups.
“I need a drink.”
He needed way more than a drink, but he would start there. Eighty-nine days of denying himself—for what?
The bartender didn’t seem alarmed as Doug sat down and leaned heavily on the bar. His heartbeat was slowing down a little. The world, which had stopped for a few seconds, then sped into a frenzy, was now slowing back down, finally operating at something closer to a normal speed again.
He groaned.
Hellie.
Hellie in the sparkling green dress tonight, greeting him with her sweet smile, thinking all was well.
He could lie tonight.How was work?she’d say. Oh, youknow... work. A nonchalant grin, one bullshit story about a customer just crazy enough to be true...
But tomorrow, could he keep pretending? And the next day? He’d done it before. Eventually, she’d notice the paycheck hadn’t come. There would be questions. He could feign indignation.Those fuckers didn’t payme?Pretend to quit over it. The problem is, he’d used this bag of tricks before. And not just once.
“Are you okay?” said a tentative voice. The girl at the bar. So damn sweet. So damn nice. With no idea what a backstabbing fuck of a world it was.
“My marriage is over,” he said, rubbing his face.
Fuck. His marriage was over. He and Hellie had been together since they were seventeen. She’d put up with his shit, he’d put up with hers.One more chance, she had said, her pale face set. She’d never given him ultimatums before, and he knew she was serious.
He was so fucked. Even if he told her this wasn’t his fault, what were the chances she’d believe him? He could lay out the real, actual goddamn truth and she’d think it was a lie.
The bartender poured him a shot. “Here. It’s on me. But then you have to go. We really are closed. I just forgot to lock the front, okay?”
“I’ll do one if you do one.” Now that he was doing this, he was so damn thirsty he could hardly wait. His entire body was pounding for it, and why resist? Why fucking fight when he couldn’t win, when the entire world was stacked against him?
The bartender grinned, shaking her head as she ducked behind the bar. Doug pulled out his phone while she got out the glasses. He couldn’t go home to Hellie now. He had to stay out as long as he would have been at work. He shot off a text to the one person who’d probably be home right now: Ted Kristos. His old high school buddy, never a part of the OG Four, but always kind of lingering around the edges.
