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“She just left you?” I frowned.
“Shitty parents aren’t exclusive to just you,” he muttered standing up. “So, what are we doing? Are we wallowing in your shattered memories, or are we heading back into town to get a drink?”
“A drink?” I snorted. “Where? At The Neon?”
“And let you go after your mother, no thanks. I was thinking more like we head over to my place, and we raid my stash, or stop atOld Flanagan’sor something.”
“Flanagan’s? The tourist bar?”
“Hey, booze is booze.” He shrugged.
“How about we see if Annie’s back patio is still intact, and you bring your stash over here?” I suggested. “She’s got a view of the water.”
He gave an exaggerated frown in thought. “Alright. You find us some seats out back, and I’ll go get us something good.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, watching him back track towards the door.
“Misery loves company,” he said, over his shoulder as he disappeared.
Misery. That was definitely one word for what I was feeling. I’d hoped to find some heartwarming piece of Annie waiting for me, but it was all ruined. Now, I was to about have a drink with the last person in the world I’d ever thought I’d choose to spend time with.
Getting up, I clutched Annie’s sweater to my chest and padded through the remains of my childhood, and out to the back door. I stepped through the hole Ronnie had left in the sliding glass door.
The chairs and table resting on the back patio were in perfect condition. My mother’s destruction hadn’t reached the outside of the house. I sighed in relief.
Sinking into Annie’s favorite wicker chair, I closed my eyes and exhaled as the wind carried Jamie’s scent around from the front of the house. He carried a large bottle full of a brown liquid.
“Nice, we have chairs,” he said, cheering halfheartedly.
“And…. whiskey, is it?” I asked squinting up at him.
“It’s technically bourbon, but good nose.” He smiled, sinking down in the chair beside me. “My good glasses were in the dishwasher, so I brought some plastic cups.”
“It works.” I shrugged, watching him pour.
“How in our feelings are we today?” He asked,
“I just found my grandmother’s entire life torn to shreds, you tell me,” I said.
He tipped the bottle at a steeper angle for a second and then slid a half full cup over to me. “Do you like bourbon?”
“I’ve never been opposed to it.”
He snorted. “This one is special. It was made by a group of wolves down in New Orleans. I don’t know much about it, but it’s my favorite.”
“Your favorite? And you’re sharing it with me?” I arched an eyebrow at him.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He shrugged.
I squinted at him again. “Do you not remember high school and how you treated me?”
He froze with his cup to his lips and closed his eyes. He took a sip of his drink, and then looked off into the distance, studying the horizon. “I was an ass in high school. I’m sorry.”
“I…” An apology was the last thing I’d expected out of this conversation. My eyebrows drew together, and I turned, matching his posture, staring out at the sea. “Thank you.”
“So, where ya been all these years?” he asked, his voice almost too soft for me to hear.
“Everywhere I could manage,” I said. “I’ve been down as far as New Orleans. I went to Paris, Greece, Italy, a whole bunch of places, but lately I’ve been spending a lot of time in New York.”
