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“It’s a party. You’re supposed to do things you probably shouldn’t,” he said, reaching to lift the glass to my lips. I went ahead and took a sip.
“Says the guy who is going to need tocarryme home later,” I said, taking another sip. “I’m a complete lightweight.”
I’d been raised to believe that it was a really bad thing to drink alone. And since I was always alone… I never drank. My tolerance was zero.
Just a couple sips into the first one, and I’d been feeling floaty. I’d babied the rest of it, sure it would be the last drink of the night, and wanting to savor it.
“I’m dying to see you drunk,” he admitted.
“I’m… less excited,” I admitted.
“You’re safe here with me,” he said, getting to the root of the problem. “What better way to learn what you’re like when you tie on one too many?”
“I can’t argue with that sound logic,” I agreed, tipping my drink up again.
Another drink and a half later, and we learned what kind of drunk I was. The girl who talked way too loud and wanted to talk to everyone.
In other words, the complete opposite of who I was in my normal life.
“She alright?” Alaric asked, coming into the kitchen where I was holding one of Eddie’s cookbooks up, marveling at how the words were all swimmy and blurry.
“She’s flyin’, man,” Eddie said with a laugh.
“Do the words always go swimmy when you’re drunk?” I asked, pulling the book in and then out again, squinting at the words that made no sense.
“Might help if—“ Alaric said, snatching the book from me, turning it, and giving it back, “you have it the right side up.”
“Oh!” I said, trying again. “No. I think this book is broken,” I told Eddie. “You should get a refund,” I told him as I set it back down.
“From my great grandma?” he asked, smiling at me. “Here, drink your water, pretty girl,” he said, pushing the bottle toward me.
“He’s been trying to drown me,” I told Alaric as I took a long sip.
“And by that I mean I made her drink a bottle, then handed her a second.”
“And if you’re wondering if his toast is as good as the rest of his food… it isn’t,” I told Alaric, sighing, as I lifted the hard rye bread, and dropped it back down onto the plate.
“Did you get any food in there?” Alaric asked.
“He made me eat a piece of this,” I said, waving toward the toast. “I’m not hungry,” I added, shaking my head.
“She did have all that pasta before she drank, man,” Eddie reasoned. “She’s just a lightweight.”
“I should get your pretty ass home, huh?” he asked.
“Frida!” I gasped, my hand flying to my heart.
“Baby, it’s only been a couple hours,” he assured me.
“No, that’s not right,” I said, shaking my head. I felt like I’d been very drunk for a very long time.
“It is. But she’s probably missing you, so we should get back to her.”
“I don’t think I’d pass a field sobriety test,” I told him, shaking my head solemnly.
“Good thing you’re not driving.”
“But I need to walk Frida.”
