Page 14 of A Grinchmas Delight

“Did you have a few too many drinks, boss?” she asks, her tone playful.

I nod and rest my head on top of my crossed arms on the bar. Her hand runs back and forth across my shoulders and the sensation is soothing.

“I’m going to drive you wherever you need to go, okay?”

“In my truck?” I ask.

I hear her beautiful laugh at my question. “If that’s what you want, then yes. I’ll drive your truck.”

“No. No one drives my truck,” I slur, lifting my head. My eyes are heavy and I manage to peek through a small slit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll drive my car.”

I give her a thumbs up, or at least that’s what I think I’m doing. Everything is hazy and I’m regretting that last drink. I think I’m in and out of consciousness.

Next thing I know, someone is one either side of me and my arms are around them as they guide me out the door. I’m walking, with a lot of assistance. I make it to Dayra’s car and my eyes flutter open.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me,” I slur, looking at the compact car.

Laughter erupts around me and I shake my head. “I’m never going to be able to get out of this tuna can.”

“Oh, stop it. You’ll be fine. Get in.”

Of course she’s bossing me around. I expected nothing less.

I’m ushered into the front seat of her tiny car. Surprisingly, my head doesn’t hit the roof like I thought it would, but I feel like I’m sitting on the ground.

Someone buckles my seat belt and closes the door. Dayra plops down into the driver’s seat and flips through her phone for a minute before music begins to play through the speakers. It’s a song I don’t recognize but I like the melody.

“Where am I taking you?” she asks, buckling her seatbelt.

“I guess to my mom’s. Here, call her,” I demand, handing my phone over to her.

“Call your mom?” she squeaks.

“Yeah. That’s what I just said. Here— hey Siri, Call Mom,” I say, while she’s holding my phone.

Siri pipes up and says, Calling Mom.

Mom answers in two rings.

“Zane? What’s wrong?” she asks as soon as she answers.

“Hi, I’m driving Zane to you from Scotty’s Place. Can you give me directions? He’s had a little too much to drink.”

Mom laughs on the other end of the phone. “I’ll send the address. Are you that drunk you can’t tell the girl our address?”

I giggle and lean my head against the cool window of Dayra’s car. “Yep,” I slur and close my eyes.

“I’m sending it now, sweetheart. Thank you for driving him. I’ll see you in a few minutes. I’ll leave the porch light on and I’ll come out when you get here.”

The call ends and the car is silent as we begin moving. I start to feel queasy as the car gets further down the road. It’s like being on a rollercoaster ride that’s flipping upside down continuously. I force my eyes to open and the spinning subsides. I exhale a breath of relief.

“Whew!”

“You okay over there? We’re almost there.”

“Yep. I think I’m good.”