close, in that way, scared the shit out of me. My heart hadn’t raced and my breath hadn’t caught like that in as long as I could remember, I wanted to jump in his arms and run for the hills in fear all at once. So, I did the only thing I could think to do, start to drown those feelings and emotions with alcohol.
Our glasses met high in the air, as Walker leaned in close to whisper one of our usual cheers. “To a night that we’ll hopefully forget and to, hopefully, no brown bottle flu!” The liquor slid down my throat, burning too pleasantly. Some of the liquid spilled onto my chin, making me giggle as I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “We have to do one for Jim. Get the guys!”
Walker nodded in agreement and put one finger up, signaling me to wait for him while he covered his mouth with the other hand, still swallowing. “You pour and I will round everyone up.”
With that, I was alone again and memories threatened to assault my whiskey drenched good mood. I heard Randy’s voice start to creep in again. “Baby, make sure you take it easy.” I shook him out of my head. Tonight was not the night to take it easy or let a ghost control my life. I needed to let loose and have a little bit of fun. I grabbed the rest of the shot glasses and poured everyone a shot full to the rim. Walker came back in with Mitch, five of their fraternity brothers, and Jim in tow.
I lined up the shots. “Come get ‘em, guys!” I raised my glass high in the air and waited for the rest to meet mine before continuing, “To Jim, the birthday boy! May your sixties be your best decade yet.”
Walker put his hand on mine to stop me from throwing my shot into the back of my throat just yet. My eyes widened with curiosity and he just shook his head. He filled one more shot glass and set it on the counter. “And to Randy, ‘cause he could never turn down his girl and whiskey!” My eyes locked onto Walker’s, but he just winked at me and said, “Cheers everyone!”
We slammed our shots, chills running down our backs from the warm amber burning all the way down. All the guys laughed, then, one by one, they hugged me hello. It was wonderful to see all of them again. It had been too long.
We continued to do more rounds of shots, draining the bottle of whiskey, and finishing the evening off with beer. The night turned into a haze of laughing, dancing, and storytelling about our drunken debauchery. By the time we got around to singing “Happy Birthday” to Jim, our song was a jumbled mess of slurred words and terrible timing. Jim didn’t seem to notice or care. He just took Liz into his arms, planting a big, wet kiss on her mouth as we finished our song with “And many more!”
Jim and Liz might have appeared to be past their prime, but they sure knew how to party. It always surprised me how little they acted like parents, and how much they still seemed like college kids. Randy always said having cool parents was both a blessing and a curse. Their lack of discipline during Randy’s formative years was one of the contributing factors in him joining the army. He craved the structure his parents neglected to provide.
After saying goodnight to the last of our friends, and walking them out to their cars, Walker, Mitch and I plopped on the couch, still chuckling, with whiskey and beer soaking our blood. Resting my head onto Walker’s shoulder, I exhaled in the relief of a successful party.
“Why don’t we do this more often?” Liz was still dancing, sitting on the loveseat with one hand on Jim’s leg and the other waving in the air, her head bobbing along to the music playing in the background. “I just love to dance so much!” She hiccupped her last words, making all of us erupt into a rolling laugh. It felt so great to be free again, but a twinge of guilt hit my heart because Randy wasn’t there to share in it.
My mind fell back to the first time I met Jim and Liz. It was a hot day, a few weeks after Randy and I had met. He told me he couldn’t think of dating someone his mother hadn’t approved of, and invited me over to dinner. The entire drive to their house, I was so nervous to meet them. With sweaty palms and shaky knees, I sat in their living room and realized I had come home. Thinking back on it, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself for ever being nervous while they were so laid back. I was pretty sure they would have loved anyone Randy brought home; I was just the lucky one it happened to be.
Jim took his half-empty beer bottle, raising it in the air. “Son, I can only imagine you had a hand in all this. Thanks for a great birthday, man!”
Walker looked at me, and I was sure he could see the pain building in my face. “Well, it’s getting late. Want me to walk you home, Mags?” His accent was thick with his drunkenness that I could see in his half open eyes and glossed over expression look.
I nodded, holding in the flood of tears begging to escape from my drunken eyes.
“I’ll be right back Mitch.” Making stern eye contact with him, Walker nudged Mitch on the shoulder. “You’re crashing here, by the way.”
Mitch agreed easily, mumbling he knew he was too intoxicated to drive and would make the McManus' couch his bed for the night.
Mitch had learned long ago, when Walker was assigned as his “big brother”, not to test him. It was always better to obey than try to fight him. One night, their two stubborn heads clashed over drinking and driving. It was after a long night of boozing at the fraternity house. Walker refused to give Mitch his own keys back. Mitch was so drunk, he took a swing at his big brother. The fight ended with Walker’s right hand broken with a boxer’s fracture and Mitch getting ten stitches over his right eye. Needless to say, Mitch has never second guessed Walker’s opinion on the subject again, or how strongly he was willing to defend that opinion.
Walker extended his hand to me, helping me off the couch. I hugged both Liz and Jim, thanking them for a great night, breathing in their comforting love one last time.
Once the goodbyes were said, Walker hooked my arm around his elbow to stabilize me for the short trek. I could feel the booze sloshing around in my stomach as we half stumbled down the front steps. Having a strong and sturdy escort was a smart move; I was clumsily unstable in my heels. I staggered a few times, making Walker’s arm flex to stop me from face-planting onto the pavement. We giggled at my drunken, ridiculous state. In a half yawn I could barely understand, Walker stated it had been a great party.
“Yeah, it really was. It’s great to be out of my mopey darkness for a while and to have our drinking crew back together. It feels like college was a million years ago!”
“It was for me.” Walker chuckled, making me feel like a baby even though he was barely two years my senior.
“Oh right, I forgot you and Jim graduated together.” I jolted him with my elbow at my joke and playfully scowled at my remark. I rested my head on Walker’s arm for the next couple of steps, comforted by his presence.
We got to my door, and hugged good night. My head fit perfectly on his chest as he bent down a bit to rest his forehead on the top of my head. “I never realized how much shorter you are than me.”
I let out a sharp huff, “Yeah, I’m fun-sized.” As soon as the words slurred off my tongue, my entire body burned with embarrassment.
Walker’s just laughed at my remark. “Do you want me to help you inside, Tiny?” Walker’s arm was still wrapped around my waist, stabilizing me as I fumbled with the key in the door.
“No, I think I got it from here. Thank you, Mr. Jolly Green Giant.” I finally felt the lock pop open and smiled as the cool air-conditioning rushed out the door onto my hot cheeks. “I know I’ve had plenty to drink, but I’ll make it up the stairs just fine.” I stared into Walker’s beautiful eyes and took a moment to relish how warm and inviting they were. A shiver rushed up my spine, but I ignored it, chalking it up to the Jack Daniels.
Walker gave me a peck on the cheek, letting it linger longer than usual, “Sleep well, Half Pint.” He slurred, “Tonight was fun. I missed seeing you like that.” His voice turned huskier as the words trailed, letting a glint of lust flicker between us.
Breathlessly, I watched his lips and eyes for a moment, shaking off the desire to fill the void of loneliness only when Walker turned to head back down the block. I stayed on my front porch for a few seconds, watching him walk down the dew-dampened street, wishing he would turn back around and hold me all night. He did the right thing and kept walking.
When Walker came home from his deployment, soon after Randy’s death, the McManus’ took him in. Liz always said it was for Walker’s own good to get back on his feet there, but I always thought she did it more for selfish reasons. Walker was so much like Randy that Jim and Liz seemed to feel like it was the closest thing they could get to have their son home. Whatever the reason, I was thankful to have all three of them were so close. I knew sometimes my friendship with Walker crossed some sort of line, and Walker tried his best to balance our friendship while respecting the parents of my dead husband.
