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Yes, yes, yes, yes.
Wow.
I decide a celebratory beer is in order, even though it’s 9:15 in the morning and I have to be at work in less than an hour. I head to the fridge and swipe one out.
I swipe out Amanda’s nearly-full bottle of cherry vodka, too, and pour it right down the sink drain. I’m not even going to let her have it.
Fuck cherry flavoring and fuck her.
*
I like my job. I’ve worked as a bartender at Kinley’s since I was eighteen. I’ve got a great relationship with the owner and founder himself, Bill Kinley, who was a long-time dental patient of my grandpa’s before Pop passed. Aside from Lolly (and not counting my parents, who have never once tried to talk to me), he’s the closest thing to another relative that I’ve got.
I guess that’s why when I fill him in on the latest happenings in my life, from choking and being rescued by Liv to breaking up with Amanda, he feels comfortable enough to say, “I wondered when you’d get around to leaving that girl for a real fucking woman.”
Amused, I snort. “Whoa, horsie. I didn’t leave Amanda so I could get with the neighbor girl.”
“Doesn’t mean there ain’t potential there.” Chin lifted, he gives me a mysterious look that makes me laugh more.
I put down the tumbler I’ve just dried. “Whatever. I’d like to get to know her, but the real point of my story is that I’m determined not to waste any more of my life being stupid. And knowing I don’t have to listen to Amanda explain why she needs five hundred dollars’ worth of skincare products is fucking priceless.” After a second, I amend, “Well, it’s priceless in a way. Quite literally, that’s five hundred dollars I’m not spending on skincare products.”
Bill laughs and grabs another lime to wedge. “What the hell does she need such expensive lotion for? She’s pretty by herself.”
“I don’t know.Sheprobably doesn’t even know. Probably read about it in a magazine and decided she needed it because a celebrity said it was worth something.”
“And you really spent money on her like that?”
I raise a hand. “Guilty.”
“My man,” he groans.
“I know.” Embarrassment wiggles its way through me. I was raised to respect money and not live above my means, and I did a good job of it until I got with Amanda. Her parents had spoiled her all her life, and before I knew it, I was doing it, too. And it wasn’t really even fun, because I knew it was moronic to spend tons of money on things that weren’t important. But I did it anyway.
Ugh.
“No more, though, huh?” Bill says optimistically now, like he can read my thoughts. He has that ability sometimes. “You’ve wised up. That’s what counts, like you said.”
“I guess,” I grumble, remembering how, in actuality, five hundred bucks wasn’t the most money I ever spent on a useless item for her.
But enough about that. It’s time to move forward.
“So, hey,” I say as I pick up my last freshly-washed tumbler, “the apartment manager said the only thing we can’t do in the pool area for Abby’s party is stuff like glitter and confetti.”
Bill breaks out into a wide grin. “Great! Not a problem! Thanks again for setting all that up. Her and her little friends will love the pool. One day, I swear we’ll have one of our own.”
“Well, you’ve seen the apartment building, so you know it’s not going to be a real big, fancy pool. It wasn’t dirty when I went and looked at it, though, so I guess there’s that.”
“Yeah, man, don’t worry. It’ll be great.” He sighs and shakes his head. “God, I can’t believe my baby girl is turning eight.”
“Oh, how the time flies.”
“Yeah, you got no idea. Wait ‘tilyouhave a little one.”
I chuckle at the thought of a tiny me crawling around in a pair of baby-sized sneakers. As far as I know, I like kids, but I’ve never really thought much about having one…except I was sure Ididn’twant one with Amanda. Even when I had it bad for her, it was always clear that she wouldn’t know what the hell to do with a baby. She was too big on herself.
Liv drifts into my mind, and I wonder if she took care of her niece when she was a baby, too. I’d bet yes. The tone she took when she mentioned her sister was full of tired, familiar disappointment, which told me the addiction problems aren’t anything new. She doesn’t seem like the type who’d stand by and let a helpless baby be mistreated.
And from the looks of things—that is, the times I’ve seen her and the kid together—she’s doing well with her responsibility. Like everyone else who lives in our cheap enclosed-apartment building, I would guess they don’t have a lot of money, but they seem happy. There’s almost always a giggle or smile passing between them, like they live in their own fun little world. It’s been that way since they moved in four or five years ago.
