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GALINA
Audrey hasn’t been waiting for more than five minutes, but you’d never guess by looking at the empty glasses on her table.
“Galina!” she cheers, waving for me to join her. She’s so loud that a few people glance at her with mixed expressions. Not that she doesn’t draw the eye naturally, what with her long red hair, perfect hourglass figure, and freckles so cute you’d swear she drew them on.
“Hey, Audrey.” I sit in the chair across from my friend.
She leans forward, her voice hushed. “How’s Katya?”
“Mom’s fine.” Grimacing, I shake my head, whipping myself in the cheeks with my hair. “No, that’s bullshit. Before I get into it, I need one of those.” I gesture at the empty glasses.
Audrey signals for someone. One very petite waitress immediately sways our way, her tight black skirt clinging to her hips. A guy tries to grab her ass, and she immediately elbows him with a smooth, well-practiced motion without bothering to look back at him. I can’t help but start laughing. She sees my reaction, winking as she gets close. “What can I get you girls?”
“Some liquor to loosen us up.”
“Oh no.” Giving the waitress an apologetic smile, I point at the blackboard over the back of the bar. “I’ll have a pint of the Stockwood Nitro.”
“Beer?” Audrey looks at me incredulously. “You’re drinking beer? Who even are you?”
“Someone who doesn’t want to wake up in a stranger’s bed.”
She rolls her eyes at my retort before she orders herself another martini. Once the waitress walks away to leave us waiting for the drinks, Audrey lifts her eyebrows at me sympathetically. “All right, spill. What’s wrong with your mom?”
I really wanted some alcohol in me before going down this road. Watching anxiously for the waitress, I pick at my fingernails. “I was trying to help with the studio. Get the bills and everything straightened out, you know? That was Dad’s job.” I breathe in sharply.
Six months … How has it already been six months?
Audrey nods knowingly. “Okay, that’s nice of you. Did your mom not want the help or something?”
“She was overwhelmed. I thought it would be good for me to take something off her plate. But then I got into the weeds and saw the paperwork.” Gritting my teeth, I notice I’ve cut the skin by my thumbnail with my nervous fidgeting. Licking my thumb, I look up, relieved to see the waitress with our drinks.
I take the beer, enjoying how cold it feels in my grip, and make sure to tip the waitress well. She gives me an appreciative smile before she walks away. “You need anything, you just yell,” she says before slipping into the chaotic crowd.
Arching my neck, I take a huge pull of my drink. It burns perfectly, like I’m swallowing fire. But it’s what I want.
“Galina,” Audrey presses me.
Sighing, I put the glass on the table, turning it slowly in a circle. “The studio is in debt. Like a lot of debt. Mom wants to sell it. In fact, she said she already has someone coming to make an offer.”
“Holy shit.” She leans back in her chair to take this all in. Tipping her drink to her lips, she leaves a smudge of bright pink lipstick. One more swallow and the martini is gone. “Okay. Wow. That’s … I’m so sorry, Galina. This on top of everything else—you must be overwhelmed.”
“Everything else?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Audrey cocks her head the way a dog might if it heard something strange. “You know,” she prods. “Isn’t it the anniversary?—”
Right … The bitter memory suddenly rises in my throat like bile.
“Don’t.” I bite the word in half; she recoils like I dug my teeth into her.
My hand creeps around to my stomach and I hug myself, drawing my knees upward slightly. Searching for my beer, I frown when I discover it’s empty. Somehow, I drank it all without realizing.
“I’m not going to think about that,” I tell her, my tone icier than I would like. “And you shouldn’t either.”
“Of course, whatever you say.” She puts on her best fake grin, waving for the waitress to begin our round two. My plan to stay sober goes out the window. Who can blame me? The stress I’m under isn’t normal. I pride myself on being strong, like my father taught me to be, but this is too much.
Two rounds become three. My plan to stick with beer shifts because Audrey gives me a taste of her martini, hooking me with its bitter kick. And by the time Audrey starts pulling me toward the exit, I’ve got a strong buzz going.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
