Page 75 of Restored Dreams

[Brut]

“Why isn’t she answering?” I grumble to myself as I cross the bar. I head back to the table where Tommy Carrigan has joined Hank and me. Hank doesn’t drink, and I blame a lot of his prior wayward behavior on the man to his left, Tommy Carrigan. He’s a charismatic character with his Southern drawl and his permanent rock star status—even though they aren’t rock stars anymore. That ship had sailed, and with it came a huge relief for me. I watched my brother spiral downward too many times. Hank claimed the band was his family, but the only family picking him up when he hit bottom was me.

Yet somehow Tommy and Hank have reconnected. Their friendship is different now—more mature. Maybe it’s because they are both married.

I want to be married.

I want Lily to be with me forever, but after this morning, I’ve realized she doesn’t feel the same way.

“Another round,” I announce, setting down two shot glasses. My brother’s eyeing me. I’m not typically the wild one. I drink a beer a day, maybe two, but I don’t typically let loose like this. Only tonight, I’m wound tight. I don’t understand what Lily wants, but I know one thing—when she said don’t kiss her, my heart dropped. Correction, my heart fell out of my chest, thumped on the floor, and waited to be stomped on. Then Chopper interrupted us, and there was the awkward moment when I was ready to beg her to stay, take the day off and talk, but Chopper waited. I love my kid, but I wanted to smack him upside the back of his head. He watches Lily like a hawk, protective of her to a fault. Then again, can I blame him? He loves her. I love her. I don’t understand.

“How’s Lily?” Tommy mocks. I excused myself for the bathroom, tried to call for the millionth time, and rerouted to the bar for another round of shots.

“Fine,” I grunt, slamming back the fiery liquid in one swallow.

“That doesn’t look like fine,” Hank implies, eyeing my empty shot glass before his eyes meet mine, narrowing in question.

He’s right. We aren’t fine. We’re an emotional roller coaster, and to top it off, we haven’t had sex in a week. For a woman with pregnancy hormones in overdrive, the slammed brakes should have tipped me off. Things are definitely not fine.

“Trouble in paradise, perhaps?” Tommy jabs, and I glare back at him.

“Paradise is just heavenly, thank you.”

“What the fuck are you two talking about?” Hank interjects, his head swinging back and forth between the two of us. “What’s going on with Lily? Fine is a female word. What’s wrong?”

I gaze at my brother, and Tommy bursts out laughing. “A female word?”

“If Edie says to you ‘I’m fine,’ you know you’re in trouble, right?” Hank pauses a second while Tommy stares back at him unblinking. “Never mind. Just tell me what’s happening?” Hank ignores Tommy and speaks to me.

“We had a fight. Or rather, she told me off and then told me she didn’t want to marry me.”

“What?” Tommy and Hank respond in unison. I shrug. What more is there to say?

“Is it because you asked Midge and me to be witnesses, but you two haven’t gotten married yet? Are you rethinking the wedding thing?”

“What wedding thing?” Tommy asks. I ignore him.

“No, I said we could have a wedding later, but we need to get married now.”

“You said?” Tommy parrots, mocking me, but I dismiss the question in his voice. Hank glares at me.

“You asked her to marry you, right?”

“Yes,” I hiss, glaring back at my brother.

“How?” Hank snaps

“Not this again. What do you mean how?”

“I mean, I heard the lame excuse of asking her in the tub, which didn’t sound all that romantic, and as women love to share that shit, Lily didn’t seem too excited to share what went down. So why don’t you tell me how you did it?”

“What, are you the romantic police all of the sudden? Got married at a courthouse yourself and now you’re the judge of how others do it?” I reach for Tommy’s untouched shot and slam it back.

“I already told you not to compare yourself to Midge and me. And I’m still waiting for an answer on how you asked her because I’m thinking you pulled a Brut and told her how things would be. You told her to marry you. You told her a date. You told her we’d be witnesses.”

“I didn’t,” I defend, but as what he’s saying slowly sinks in, my heart cowers in my chest. A hand wipes down my face.

“Brut, I love you, man, but you can be so dense. And your need to control things…” Hank drifts off and shakes his head.