Page 24 of The Curve
“Nice to meet you too, Bristol. I hate to tell you but I’m beginning to enjoy it a little. Don’t hold it against me though.”
“I’m Grandma Birdie, and this is my boyfriend Grandpa Davis,” says the white-haired lovely looking woman as she gestures to the dapper man in the yellow bow tie sitting beside her on the couch.
“Aren’t you a pretty little bird. Hello Charlotte,” he says.
“Thank you, Davis. I don’t think I’ve ever had that compliment.”
“My grandfather’s a bird watcher,” Atticus says.
“And a smooth talker,” Grandma Birdie adds, scolding her boyfriend with a tease.
He takes her hand and looks into her eyes. “You’re the only bird in my nest, darlin’.”
“Now that you’ve met the family, I’m going to make you a drink. Do you like Jack Daniels? He’s Tennessee’s favorite son, you know.”
“Sinatra was buried with a bottle of Old Number Seven,” says Brick holding up his.
I’ve never tasted it before, but they don’t need to know that.
“Sounds good!” I lie. Maybe it’ll calm me.
Atticus looks at me with a knowing smile. He’s figured out I have no clue whatsoever if I love or hate the stuff.
* * *
Oh shiiiiiit!Why did I take that drink? And why did I feel compelled to finish it and the next one he poured? Now my head and stomach are off kilter and I don’t know how much longer I can stay at the table. I feel drunk and I want to laugh for some fucking reason.
Atticus mentioned to his father he was giving me too much, but Boone said a southern girl could down two fingers of Jack Daniels easily. I didn’t want to burst his bubble. This Pittsburgh girl is a light weight when it comes to booze.
The smells rising from the plates and bowls and platters of southern cooking are going to make me barf. Fried everything doesn’t mix well with a queasy stomach. No matter how delicious it is. Just the sight of the spread is off putting in my condition.
“You okay?” Atticus whispers.
I try to focus on his face but it’s blurry. I never noticed he has a unibrow before. The room starts to spin.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
I have a sense he’s getting up and the people at the table are all talking to him at once. They could be talking to me. Who knows? I don’t know if they’re talking to me! Okay that’s too funny. I start laughing. And for some reason the rest of the group joins me.
“Imz sorry. That drink hit me wrong.” I attempt an apology. I think that sounded okay. I should be mortified but I keep wanting to laugh.
“Poor dear! Boone, it’s all your fault,” Grandma Birdie says.
“I only gave her two small drinks!”
“Atticus, get her to the guest room,” I hear someone say.
“Let her lay down,” Bristol says.
Without effort on my part I’m lifted from my chair.Where are my legs?Then another man is on my other side, helping stand me in an upright position.
“Oh, it’s my friend Brick! Hi! I’m a tad bit drunk.”
“I can see that. We’re gonna help you.”
“Mom!” Mallory’s voice reaches me loud and clear.
“Don’t worry, honey. I’m fine. Kind of.” I start laughing again.
