Page 182 of Unleashed

Rhonda says, “I agree, Val. Uncle Amos always has the best things to say about you, Greg.” Now I feel like a shitbag for dumping on him so much. I do like Amos, but I don’t want that going to his head. He’d tap dance down Cary Street alongside a marching band, floats, and motorcycle gangs from all over.

Amos returns with two bottles of wine. “I was unsure which one would accompany hummus the best. A Benziger Cabernet, a Rodney Strong Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve, or a Louis Latour Pouilly Fuissé Chardonnay? What do you think? Red or white?”

“Wet.”

Rhonda giggles next to me, and I grab two bottles from Amos’s hands and set them on the table. Amos asks, “Val?”

“Let’s try the Chardonnay.”

“Look at you, Val, getting trashed,” I tease in a monotone, but I hope to have a drinking buddy tonight.

Val laughs. “I’ve been drinking wine for years, Rod. I’m a pro at this. Besides, Paul drove me here. He knows Amos and I enjoy good conversation between good friends and good wine.”

Amos takes the wine he’s holding to open it, and I stare at my hummus, having no appetite for it. “What happened with you and Simone, if I may ask?” Rhonda touches my arm with her red-wine-colored fingernails, and just that gesture almost makes me bawl on command. “You seemed to get along better.”

Amos pours Val and himself a glassful of white wine before setting down the bottle between Rhonda and me. I offer Rhonda wine and she holds up her glass. With Val and Amos watching, I mutter, “Simone and I are barely friends,” using my tired mantra. But I had thought she was one of my best friends. Again, I’m a sucker because I believe that or because I don’t believe it was more.

Finishing my glass, I pour more, feeling a pleasant buzz loosening me up. It’s a decent wine, but I liked the red better. Each time I fill my glass, I fill Rhonda’s too. I ask, “So Raleigh, huh? It’s near Durham, where I’m from.”

Rhonda nods. “Maybe I’ll run into you again when you visit your parents.”

“Have you met my parents?” I roll my eyes, and she laughs. “Definitely, though. Next time I’m in town, we’ll meet up for dinner or something. It’d be nice to hang out with someone there I actually like.”

Val sighs. “Your poor mother. Such an amiable woman.” Oh, yeah. Val and Amos met her at Eden’s funeral, but they got the Reader’s Digest version, not the psycho loon I know.

I snort. “Lizzie’ll live.” As long as she doesn’t smash into a speeding train.

When the white wine is empty, I open a red one. I’ve never consumed this much wine in my life. It’s not bad, and tonight, it’s a lifesaver.

The doorbell rings, and Amos leaves the room to answer it. Dear God. Please let it be death with my calling card and an express ticket to hell.

Amos returns to the dining room with Brandon in tow. Shit. He’s one of the last fuckers I want to see tonight. His diabolical grin appears cordial to everyone but me. “Good evening, everyone. I’m glad to see you.”

Val says, “It’s so nice for you to stop by for Rhonda. Thank you for the food.”

“It was nothing.” You got that right.

I know it’s irrational, but seeing Brandon infuriates me since he bears some responsibility for his grandson’s existence. I could be in bed with Simone, but no. Captain Dickless just had to bring his grandson around here. I wish he’d go back to whichever zoo he belongs.

“I wanted to thank Rhonda for her hard work and dedication. You’ll be missed, Rhonda.” She didn’t die, asshole.

Her face reddens to match the wine in her glass, but her voice is sharp. “Thank you, Brandon. I’ve met many wonderful people here.” Not only does her tone cut, but her glare could ignite Brandon’s gray hair.

He looks away from her, almost apologetic or embarrassed. He should be for fucking Shasta. Brandon smiles at Val as he still speaks to Rhonda. “Hopefully, you’ll meet many more remarkable people in Raleigh.” Let’s hope none of them have names like Rhodes or Betsy.

Brandon grabs a plate of food and sits down next to Amos. I can’t help looking back and forth between Rhonda and Brandon. Holy hell. If he’s been fucking Rhonda, I’m heading to bed. I can’t handle any more damn explosions tonight. I’m trying to remain numb from earlier because it’s gonna hit me hard later.

Brandon says, “While I’m here, I want to speak to you, Amos, regarding the firm’s future.” Yeah. Sounds as fun as Flo giving me a root canal at a truck stop.

I glaze over everything Brandon says, stewing over his son fucking my...ex. She’s technically not an ex of anything. We never dated, and they deemed our marriage invalid. Simone is nothing to me. No matter how much I want her to be something.

I swipe the bottle and dump more into my glass as the table blurs somewhat. I don’t know if it’s from the alcohol or my weeping soul.

Rhonda’s flushed face remains, and she seems dazed. This dinner has hit the shitter phase.

I lean closer to her and whisper, “Let’s get the hell out of here. There’s a basement with booze, a TV, and no bosses.”

Rhonda smiles with a nod. I stand and finish my wine in three gulps. I feel Val watching me as Amos asks, “Where are you going?” Even half-lit, I notice the castigating look on his face, and now that I know Rhonda is his niece, it makes sense. Too bad I don’t give a rat’s ass about his neurosis.

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