Page 42 of About Time

Later the bartender calls Griffin to come and get me when I drop my head to the bar and fall asleep. He bitches at me theshort drive to my house, but nothing he has to say can penetrate the blanket of self-loathing I’ve wrapped myself in.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Griff demands when he helps me stumble up my driveway.

He pulls me to a stop and I see Donovan sitting on my front stoop. I can feel Griffin’s confusion, but I’m too drunk to try and make an excuse, but not enough to tell him the truth.

“Hey, kid. Charlie isn’t in any shape for whatever you need from him. Let me sober him up and you can come back some other time,” Griff says.

“Sorry this can't wait,” Donovan says.

“Go on Griff. Let me talk to the kid,” I slur.

I can see he's going to argue with me, but I'm running out of patience. I'm quickly moving past drunk to hungover, and I'd really like to pass out before the pounding in my head becomes a full drum-line. This isn't exactly a conversation Donovan and I can have in front of Griffin.

Griffin narrows his eyes, but otherwise doesn't comment. He points his finger in my face. “Fine. I'll go for now, but I better see your ass at work on Monday. Sober.”

Like the drunk jackass that I am, I salute him. Griff rolls his eyes, but he does walk away. I open the door and motion for Donovan to go inside.

“He wasn't far off, kid. I'm in shit shape right now. Say whatever it is you came to say and go home.”

“Don't worry it won't take long. I only came to say fuck you asshole. Hattie left and didn't say goodbye to anybody except for her sister. I only found out she left today. I am her fucking best friend and she didn't even bother to say goodbye to me on her way out of town, and I have a feeling that is your fault.”

It totally is my fault, but I am not about to admit that to him. “What makes you say that?” I ask instead.

Donovan crosses his arms and I realize I should probably stop calling him kid. I mean shit my soon-to-be ex-wife is the same age as him.

“Well,” he starts to tick off reasons on his fingers, “let's start with three months ago. I had to drag her out of her apartment when she was wallowing in her depression. Then you run off with her and I’ve barely seen her for the last few months. Although until recently, she seemed happy. Then without a warning, she just takes off and you have been spotted at the bar passed out more often than your old man. My main guess is you wouldn't be drinking yourself into an early grave if you hadn't majorly fucked up. Tell me I'm wrong.”

It's not that I'm a bad liar, I'm just out of fucks to actually do it. Besides, Miller has been a good friend to Hattie and while I won't tell him the truth, I won't lie to him either.

“You're not wrong, I fucked up. But my mistake was ever getting started with her in the first place. She deserves more than this town and you know that. If you do happen to talk to her, don't let her think that I am miserable. I'd rather break her heart now than watch her live with regrets, and she would if she stayed for me,” I confess.

He shakes his head, clearly unimpressed with my logic. “There you go again, treating her like a kid. You know what your problem is?"

“I have a lot of problems. Why don't you fill me in on this particular one?”

Donovan looks at me with pity. “Your problem is that you never really appreciated what you had, you just focused on why you didn't deserve it. You should have respected her choices. She's a smart woman. You just never gave her enough credit.”

He turns around and shows himself out.

I drop down on the couch and put my head in my hands. “Fuck he's right,” I say to the empty room. It's something I'mgoing to have to get used to, I have a feeling I'm going to be spending a lot of time alone.

Chapter Eighteen

Hattie Present- Age 43

I’m filledwith anxious energy. There is so much about the time that Charlie and I spent apart that we’ve never talked about, and now we’re bringing it all up in front of everyone. Seems a bit fucked up.

“Remind me, why did we start telling our story?” I get off of Charlie’s lap and start nervously pacing in front of the fire.

Scott looks guilty. “I think that’s my fault. I didn’t realize no one knew your story. You absolutely don’t need to tell us.”

Charlie reaches out and tugs on my fingers until I give him my attention. “Rip the bandaid off, Doll. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

I laugh, but it’s a humorless sound. “I don’t feel guilty about Clark.”

Charlie winces. He doesn’t like being reminded that I was engaged to another man after he left me. I don’t feel bad about it either. He told me to move on with my life, and I tried my damndest to do so. If I feel bad about anything, it’s that I know I broke Clark’s heart. He certainly didn’t deserve to get caught inmy mess, but I did try and warn him so ultimately that was on him.

No, what I feel bad about is all the time I missed with my sister. When you’re young you never think of time being a limited commodity. It feels like you have an infinite number of days, and you can always come back later. Elisa and I ran out of laters.

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