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“Yeah, it’s me.” He says.
Neither one of us say a word for a moment, but he’s the next one to speak.
“Andi is here at the bar.”
“What?” I ask. “With who?”
“Well, she was with Tracy, but she got called away, so Nicole has been looking after her. She’s pretty drunk, and she keeps acting like she’s going to try to drive home. I keep distracting her, so she hasn’t left yet. Figured you would want to know.”
Without another thought, I say, “I’m on my way.”
I push the limits of my truck, speeding to the bar. When I walk in, I see Andi sitting at one end of the bar. She has her head down, but I can see that she and Nicole are still talking.
Jessie and I make eye contact, and I mouth the words ‘thank you.’ He nods and continues to work. It seems like so far, he’s handling the bartender gig pretty well.
I walk over to Andi, and she still hasn’t noticed that I’m there.
“Hi, Nicole,” I say.
She smiles, and Andi raises her head.
“Why are you here?” She asks.
“I’m here to give you a ride home.”
“I don’t…”
I hold up my hand to stop her. “You can be mad at me. You don’t have to talk to me the whole way. But I am going to make sure you get home safely.”
She rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed with me.
“I don’t know that we will both fit on your white horse.” Even drunk, her sarcasm is on point.
“Good thing I brought the truck then, huh?”
I get another eye roll, but she slides off the barstool all the same. I hand Jessie a wad of money, unaware of how much she spent.
“I’ll get your change,” he says.
“Keep it. If I keep her waiting, she’s probably going to change her mind.”
I follow her to the truck. I go to open the door for her, but instead, she climbs in the backseat and lies down.
We don’t speak on the way home. I figure she’s either asleep or trying not to throw up.
When I pull into the driveway, I hear a slight snore.
At least I won’t have to clean puke out of the backseat.
I try to pull her out as gently as I can so that I don’t wake her. She stirs a little in my arms but not much.
I find her keys in her purse, so I pull them out to unlock the door. Once inside, I carry her to her bedroom and lay her down. I push a couple of the curls out of her face before grabbing a trash can, bottle of water, and some Aspirin to set by the bed. I’m sure she’s going to need all of it when she wakes up.
I’m about to walk out of the room when I hear her grumble, “Jonas.”
I walk over to her. “Yeah, baby?”
Without opening her eyes, she says, “I’m still mad at you.”
