Page 99 of My Brother's Enemy
I couldn’t not watch.
Drinking. That was a solution. I could do it drunk, so I showered, pulled on leggings, a Grays sweatshirt, and a ball cap. I’d get more attention if I wasn’t wearing some form of Grays apparel, but the cap should help hide my face. I went down to the hotel bar, and it wasn’t too busy. A few louder fans sat at the bar, so I chose a booth in the corner. I slid in with my back to the room, facing one of the TVs mounted on the wall. An old Vikings game played on one of the other televisions, along with an MMA fight, so to keep the confusion down, everything was muted.
“Can I get you something to drink?” A server appeared at my side.
Recognizing the voice, but not placing it right away, I tilted my head up. It was the server from my first dinner with Mal. Different establishment though. Of all the ironies…
She gazed back at me with the utmost indifference, and I knew she had no interest in who I was. I gave thanks for the small gift of disinterest.
“I’ll take a water and a…” I caught sight of a purple martini being handed to someone in the booth across from us.
That looked delicious.
I pointed at it. “I’ll take that.”
She looked over. “Got it. A lavender lush martini coming up.”
“And water.”
“Mmmm-hmmm. You want some food?”
My stomach rumbled, but I shook my head. My body might be hungry, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t sure what I’d eaten since Monday. The martini would flatten me, but there were calories in there. I’d be just fine. “No. Just the drink and water.”
“Awesome,” she deadpanned before pivoting away. A moment later I heard her exclaim, “Well, hey there, Mark! How are you doing?” She was a lot friendlier to Mark. Good for Mark.
The subtitles said they weren’t talking about Daniel anymore, though the rivalry was always big news, and his game was on Friday. The thought of him being here again, in the same city as myself, where we’d grown up, made it hard to breathe.
I needed to turn my phone on, but I couldn’t make myself do it.
After the game. This game.
Or tomorrow.
Yes. Tomorrow. On Thanksgiving.
I’d deal with whatever the fallout had accumulated then.
My drink was delivered by a different server.
“I had asked for water as well,” I noted.
He smiled brightly, “Oh! I can grab that for you.”
He placed it on the table just as the face-off began. “Anything else for you?”
“Could you be my server?” I asked.
He laughed nervously, glancing toward the bar. “You know… I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll check on you later.”
He left, and the puck dropped.
The game began.
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