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“Are you going to get another boat?”
“I never had a boat,” I said.
“Oh, uh, I thought that sailboat was yours.”
“It was a three-masted schooner,” I said, “a ship, not a boat.”
“Sorry, I don’t know much about boats.”
Fuck me.
“So, are you going to get another one?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I let out a long breath and turned to glare at him.
“Because I fucking live here now!” I snarled before I focused my attention on the sizzling meat.
I guess I knew he was only trying to be nice and make conversation or whatever, but I wasn’t interested. I didn’t have anything to say to him, and I sure as hell wasn’t planning to open up and give the fucker my life story. It would only get him killed.
Now there’s an idea.
I shook my head a little to clear the violent thoughts parading around in it. With my attention on the food, I made it all the way through Nick’s attempts at conversation while I flipped steaks. When we went back inside, I made it all the way through Lindsay’s incessant babbling about shoes and Raine’s sideways glances at me every time someone took a sip of wine.
Raine had completely ignored the glass Lindsay had poured for her and drank water.
That just pissed me off more. I didn’t want her to deny herself just because I had a fucking drinking problem. It was my issue, not hers.
“How about a toast to the new customer service manager?” Nick said as he held up his glass.
Lindsay squealed a bit. She grabbed the glass Raine was avoiding and placed it her hand. Raine looked at me sideways again, and I rolled my eyes dramatically.
“Just drink the fucking drink, will you?” I snarled. “I really don’t give a shit.”
Raine cringed a bit and nodded at Lindsay. Nick held up his glass and said something about how proud he was of little Lindsay hitting the big-time of middle management. I sat on one of the stools in the kitchen and fiddled with my lighter.
“Come on, Bastian,” Lindsay said, “you have to hold up your glass!”
“It’s tea, for fuck’s sake,” I reminded her.
“You can still toast,” Lindsay argued.
I stared at her blankly for a moment, trying to keep all the nasty shit I wanted to say from flying out of my mouth like a swarm of bees from a disturbed hive. All the tension was moving up my legs and into my gut, and I had to swallow to keep the words inside.
“Drop it, baby,” Nick said quietly.
“But he can!” Lindsay insisted as she turned toward her boyfriend.
“Please,” Raine said as I felt her hand grip my knee as she stepped closer to me, “let’s go ahead and eat, okay?”
Awkward silence ensued.
It was better than what happened afterwards.
We all sat around the kitchen island with plates of steak, baked potatoes with little broccoli florets on top of them, and on
