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“Are you okay, Beau?” Georgia asked me. “You seem a little upset.”
“Nah, I’m fine,” I told her. It was a lie, of course. I wasn’t fine, and I hadn’t been fine for years. Every time I thought I might have a chance to become fine, I got a sobering reminder that my heart was still entrenched in a love affair with a woman who was no longer with us. How was I supposed to freely give my heart to Georgia or anyone else when Kaylee still had such a large piece of it with her?
I ordered another beer.
“You know,” Georgia said, pushing what was left of the fondue toward me. I hadn’t been eating much of it myself. If I had been, perhaps I wouldn’t be feeling quite as lightheaded as I was at the moment. “I’m getting tired. We’ve had a long day. Maybe we should get the driver to come and get us.”
“But I drove,” I reminded her. “The car’s right out in the parking lot. Besides, I’m not ready to go yet. I want to try this other local beer they have on tap here.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea?” she asked me. “Even if they’re both beers, can’t that sometimes make things worse, to mix them?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it, biting back a smartass comment that had been on the tip of my tongue. There was no reason for me to be rude to Georgia. She was just trying to help. I wasn’t normally a mean drunk. Only a couple of times in my life had I ever gotten angry enough to turn violent while drinking, and that had been when I was much younger and stupider, before I’d even married Kaylee, and I didn’t intend to get into that sort of situation ever again. I was too old for shit like that. So why would I say something rude to her now?
“Let’s just stay and enjoy the music for a bit more, okay?” I said as the waitress brought my beer. It was the same kind as I’d had before because I didn’t realize that Georgia was about ready to go when I ordered it, so I asked for one of the other kind as well. The waitress hesitated for a moment but then went to get it. What was wrong with everyone? They just needed to lighten up.
It didn’t take her too long to bring me the other beer, but by then, I was almost finished with the one she’d just handed me, so I finished the rest of that one down and then took the other one. This one had a thicker, darker flavor. I smacked my lips. “Now, that’s a good beer. You want one?” Georgia was beginning to look a little fuzzy to me, like maybe she wasn’t sitting still.
“No, I’m fine, thanks.” She gestured to her glass, which was mostly full still.
A song I did recognize came on, and I began to sing the lyrics the best I could in Swiss. It was off-tune, way too loud, and I kept messing them up, but it was a fun song. Georgia arched an eyebrow at me. “What? I like this one.”
She nodded. “Maybe we should go ahead and settle the bill?”
I narrowed my eyes at her, wanting to argue, but if she wanted to go, I couldn’t make her stay. “Fi—fine,” I said. “You’re a party popper. That’s what you are.”
“I’m a party popper?” she repeated.
“No, pooper. Pooper. P-O-O-P.” Feeling around in my back pocket for my wallet, I got a little dizzy and felt myself sliding off the chair, but I put my hand on the wall to steady myself.
Perhaps I had drunk a little too much.
I took a bill out of my wallet that was large enough to cover what we’d ordered and leave a handsome tip. At least, I was pretty sure that was what the bill was. It was blurry, so I couldn’t really see what it was. I threw down a second one for good measure and pulled the keys out of my pocket.
“Tell you what,” Georgia said. “You should let me drive.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” I told her, standing up and taking a few steps. The floor was a bit crooked here apparently. I put out a hand to steady myself on the table, knocking an empty glass over.
Georgia was right. I shouldn’t be driving. She took the keys from me.
“I hope I can figure out how to drive in Switzerland,” she mumbled as she wrapped her arm around my waist. “I shouldn’t have let you drink so much.”
“I’m f-fine,” I told her again, but I clearly wasn’t. And now, not only was I feeling drunk, but my head was beginning to hurt, and my stomach was starting to turn. Had it really been so long since I drank this much? I felt like a lightweight. I’d only had five beers. Of course, I’d had them all in the span of less than two hours.
By the time Georgia got me to the car and got me fastened into the passenger side, I was beginning to feel it. I rolled the window down to get some fresh air as soon as she started the vehicle. I wanted to be able to help her drive the car, but I knew I was going to be useless. All I could do was hope that she knew how to get back to the house from here and that I didn’t puke all over the vehicle.
I thanked my lucky stars to have such a wonderful woman with me, even though at the moment, I didn’t deserve her.
32
GEORGIA
Driving home was a challenge I hoped to never experience again. I had a general idea of where I was going, but I hadn’t been paying that much attention because I figured Beau would be driving and he knew these streets as well as any local. He had his head hanging out the window as I navigated back to his house, though, so I didn’t think that asking him for help was the best idea.
Not to mention nothing in the car was where it was supposed to be. But I figured it out, and when I saw a beautiful tree I’d noticed earlier in the neighbor’s yard, I knew where we were, and I was able to get us to Beau’s driveway right before he puked all over the outside of the car. At least none of it had gotten inside.
“Okay then,” I muttered, taking a deep breath as I turned off the ignition and unfastened my seatbelt. I knew a little bit about how to help puking people since Lucy sometimes drank too much, and whenever we’d go out with a group of friends, I almost always volunteered to be the designated driver. It just seemed intelligent for me to keep my wits about me whenever Lucy was drunk. One never knew what she might do.
Getting out of the car, I took another deep breath before I approached the puke. I felt sorry for whoever was going to have to clean that up, but it wasn’t going to be me. Designated driver was one thing. Designated puke cleaner was something else entirely.
