Page 81 of A Very Bossy Christmas
She said: “I know I’m the older sister, but you’ve always been the big sis in this family. You’re always the one to help get everyone else’s shit together, including mine. Declan might be drunk off his ass right now, and he might need you, but probably not in the way that it seemed when you were his assistant. No guy would show up at a family dinner on Staten Island unless he needed the woman he was showing up for in his life all the time. But some guys need a big old smack on the butt to get them to realize it’s time for them to man up. Now it’s time for you to let that man know you’re his woman. Smack that butt, girl. And bring that butt home for all of us because OMG it’s perfect.”
Okay, I may have rewritten your little monologue a tiny bit, but that was basically what you said. That’s right, Mom. I know you read my diary and I don’t mind you knowing this: it was really cool that you said that. It was super exciting to be a part of #Maclan’s HEA and it was basically the most fun we’ve had together all year. I guess I’ve missed hanging out with you.
Hopefully Aunt Maddie will get there in time for the rehearsal dinner.
But seriously—you have to stop reading my diary.
Thirty-Six
Declan
TRY HARD. TRY HARDER. TRY HARD WITH A VENGEANCE.
Everything is terrible, and I’m an idiot.
When I wake up, I am fully dressed in the bathtub of my hotel suite.
That’s the good news—that I wake up and that I’m in my hotel suite in Cleveland.
The other news is I’m wearing Nolan’s clothes, which are a couple of sizes too big for me, and a bachelorette party novelty trucker hat. I carefully remove it from my head and see that it saysShot Queen.Which makes sense. My brain has been replaced with a pulsating lead boulder, I’m pretty sure I got run over by an SUV at some point, and it feels like somebody put a cigar out on my tongue. Ghosts are trying to pull my hair follicles out one by one, and I think I see those twin girls fromThe Shiningover by the toilet.
My Irish ancestors clearly hate me.
Everything hurts, including my heart, and the first thought that emerges from the quicksand of my mind is,“Maddie. I have to call Maddie.”
The desire to see Maddie and hear her voice again is the only thing stronger than my desire to sleep for another week or two. As long as she doesn’t yell at me. And as long as I don’t have to keep my eyelids open for more than a second at a time. Or lift my head up.
I promise myself that if I am, in fact, alive—and I’m not entirely sure that I am yet—that I will live each day of the rest of my god-forsaken life doing whatever it takes to make things up to Maddie.
I will be the best man that anyone could be for her.
Or I will try to be the best man that I can be for her, anyway.
I will try really hard.
As soon as the nausea passes.
I feel around for my phone and find it in one of the pockets of Nolan’s leather jacket, along with a bunch of condom packets and paper napkins with women’s names and numbers on them. I am confident that Nolan was the one who was wearing this jacket and collecting phone numbers for most of the night, and I want to murder him because he must have had my phone on him for most of last night too.
At least I hope it was last night that we went out. It had better still be December 30th.
My phone is dead, of course. So I crawl out of the bathtub in search of my charger and the nearest outlet that is as close to the ground as possible. Because I will be staying as close to the ground as possible for as long as possible.
The clock by the bed tells me it’s 2:47 pm, but it doesn’t tell me what day it is because it’s an asshole.
Nolan is passed out on the floor right beside the bed, with a hat that saysDesignated Drunk.Surprisingly, he is not wearing my clothes. He is wearing my cousin Billy’s clothes. Billy is sprawled out on the bed. It looks like he had fallen asleep while he was in the middle of either putting my clothes on or taking them off. His trucker hat saysDancing Diva, and to my understated delight, someone has drawn a penis on his forehead in black ink. I hope it was me.
I pull the hotel phone down off the desk, randomly press a button, and ask whoever answers to send all the coffee to my room immediately. I also ask them to call Maddie for me, but they don’t know her number, and neither do I. I ask them to call my ma, and they fail me again. That’s why I have to rip the phone cord from the wall and close my eyes for just a few minutes.
When I open my eyes again, the clock says 4:01 pm. We’re supposed to be at the church for the rehearsal at five. That is, if it’s stilltoday.
I reach for a nearby shoe and hurl it at Nolan. It hits him in the face, but he doesn’t even twitch. I find another shoe, toss it in Billy’s general direction. It hits the wall and drops onto his head. He sniffles, mumbles “nuh-uh,” and covers his head with a pillow.
My phone has been charged and hallefuckinglujah, it’s still December 30th. And there are a couple of texts from Maddie. One from last night, and one from this morning.
MADDIE: Good evening, sunshine. I got your messages earlier. Just wanted to let you know that. I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and I wanted you to know that too. There’s a lot that I want you to know. It’s not the kind of thing I want to say in a text, though. At least not when I’m sober. So if you still want me to come to Cleveland, let me know. I know you’re busy with your family, so I won’t get a ticket until I hear from you. I hope you ate something. I hope your heart still goes on. Mine does.
MADDIE: Morning, sunshine. I know you’re busy. I just wanted you to know that I’m still here. Still in New York, I mean. But I’m still here for you too. Which is probably the cheesiest thing I’ve ever said out loud, but there are a lot of cheesy things I want to say to you. Let me know if you want me to come say them in person. And don’t forget to hydrate.
