“Good, he’s good.” My voice was rough from the wine. “How’s Dodge?”
“My dad? You remember him?” Justin registered surprise. “He’s the same as always. Lives down in the southern part of the state these days. I s’pose you remember him from your summer visits, huh? He always speaks fondly of Joelle’s kids.”
The ways in which simple words could unknowingly slash and burn; Justin had no idea.
“Do you still stop out to Shore Leave for coffee in the summer?” I asked, picturing this version of Justin interacting with Aunt Jilly.
“My wife prefers I drink my coffee at home.” Justin’s voice took on a subtle but distinct edge; I watched his shoulders hunch inward, as though defensively, as he glared toward the polished wooden surface of the bar. He swirled the contents of his glass with a deft movement, then drained the amber liquid.
“But not your liquor!” Eddie said with good-natured gaiety. “But hey, if you want to spend your hard-earned money in here, Miller, all the better for me.” Without asking, Eddie caught up the wine bottle and refilled my glass. I gulped gratefully.
“Do you and Aubrey have kids?” I asked Justin, louder than I’d intended. Shit. I was buzzed from the sudden splash of strong wine on an empty stomach.
His black eyebrows cocked, creating surprised arches. He shook his head in silence while I scrambled for an excuse.
“I wondered because…I’m a teacher,” I explained, hearing the way I slurred the word ‘teacher.’ Good thing I wasn’t actually employed as one; what a terrible impression to make, loaded after a glass and a half of free alcohol.
“You have a ride home, there, teacher?” Justin asked, with a faint glimmer of good humor. “You got someone to call?”
“I’m not…done yet.” So saying, I emptied the second glass. As terrible as it was to admit, the fuzzy tint brought on by the booze dulled a fraction of my pain. I realized I wanted to continue drinking until I washed away on a murky current of oblivion, where I was no longer plagued by memories that served to slice open my heart.
Millie Joelle, Brantley Malcolm, Henry Mathias, Lorissa Anne, James Boyd…
Oh God, they’re gone. My home is gone.
“You sure, kid?” Justin was concerned now, all amusement having vanished; he’d adopted the protective tone I’d heard many a time when he was addressing his children. He set aside his glass and studied me a little more closely. “Is something wrong?”
I couldn’t respond to such a stupid question. Every fucking thing was wrong.
I gritted my teeth.
“Another, please,” I requested of Eddie, holding out my glass.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Justin said and I resented his presumptuous tone.
“Another,” I insisted.
Justin shook his head at Eddie and despair collided with the alcohol in my blood, obliterating my control; I turned on him like a wolverine. I surged to my feet, sending my barstool flying, and hurled my wine glass in the direction of the pool table, dimly aware of everyone diving toward the floor as if I’d chucked a live grenade. It missed the gleaming, stained-glass beer light overhanging the table by mere inches and shattered on the far wall with a gratifying miniature explosion.
“Holy shit!” someone cried over the general uproar.
“Everything is wrong!” I screamed at Justin, fists clenched as though I meant to strike him. “Why don’t you see it?! Nothing here is right! Why don’t you know what’s right?! What the fuck is wrong with all of you?!”
Justin moved fast; before I could inflict more damage he shifted behind me, wrapping my torso in a backward hug, effectively pinning my arms.
“Hey, hey, hey.” He spoke directly in my ear, using a voice reserved for the insane. “Calm down, kid. It’s all right.”
I struggled against his hold, to no avail. Not only was he much taller than me, he was as strong as a bear. Sobbing, shaking, I couldn’t even cover my face with my hands. I was the newest attraction at the carnival freak show; stun and shock were plastered across the features of every man in sight. Some of them were still on their hands and knees near the pool table.
There goes your teaching job, I thought.
I was vaguely conscious of Justin collecting my coat and purse, and then herding me outside and into the cab of his truck. I sagged against the passenger window, my forehead resting on the cold smoothness, numb now, beyond rage or embarrassment. I owed every person in Eddie’s an apology, I realized, most especially Justin. But at the moment I couldn’t conjure up the wherewithal to give a shit.
“We’ll get you home,” he said, hooking left on Fisherman’s and following Flicker Trail around the lake, toward Shore Leave. “It’s all right, kid. You must have had a long day.”
I turned his way and my mouth betrayed me yet again, words spilling in a pleading, helpless waterfall of pain. “Listen to me, Uncle Justin. Please listen. You know you’re supposed to be with her. With your family. I know somewhere in your memory your real life is still there. You remember your kids, don’t you? You can’t have forgotten them. They need you.”
Justin braked hard somewhere in the midst of my diatribe, halting his truck smack in the middle of the road. It didn’t matter; there were no other vehicles headed out to Shore Leave.
“What in God’s name are you talking about?” he wondered aloud. He didn’t sound angry, only astonished. He sat with both hands gripping the wheel, attention fixed unswervingly on me.
“I’m talking about Jillian!” I cried. Tears gushed, falling faster than I could swipe them away. “You and my aunt. All this time, you should have been with her, not Aubrey. Aubrey left you a long time ago. You’re supposed to be married to Jillian. You’re Clint’s dad, and Rae, Riley, and Zoe’s. This isn’t right, none of this life is right!”
Camille, stop this. Stop it. You’re helping nothing and no one.
I’d rendered Justin speechless.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, sniffling,
