Page 57 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
I didn’t have the answers to any of those questions, so I sighed, flipping over to my voicemail log instead as I fell back onto my beach towel. I clicked on the message saved from my first birthday after I’d left California, my favorite message from him, and put the phone on speaker as I laid back and gazed up at the pinkish-blue sky.
Hey, B. It’s me… Jamie… but I guess you already know that, huh? He sighed, and I’d listened to that call enough to know exactly how long the sigh lasted before he spoke again. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re pushing me away because you think you should handle this all on your own. And honestly, I don’t know, maybe you’re right — maybe I’m not the person who can help you right now. There was a shuffling noise then, and I had theories about what it was — him running his hand over his face, maybe? Or was it the wind? Was he at the beach where we’d said goodbye? But I want to be. So please, just… call me back. I miss you. My chest always ached at that part. Happy birthday.
The voicemail ended, and I closed my eyes, letting the sound of Whiskey soak into my skin like sunshine, hoping it would be enough to keep me dry a little while longer.
• • •
“To college,” Jenna said, lifting her shot glass filled with chilled Patron high in the air. “May it remember us fondly as it kisses our sweet asses goodbye!”
“Cheers!” I yelled in unison with the table as we all clinked our glasses together before tapping them on the table and throwing them back. I hissed as the tequila stung my nose and throat, quickly reaching for a lime and sucking it dry.
“Shit, that burns,” Jenna laughed, her blue eyes watering.
“I hate tequila,” I agreed, dropping the dry lime in the bowl and reaching for my beer.
“Same, but it gets the job done,” Kristen said. Jenna and I both tilted our beers in a touché before taking a sip. Kristen slid off her bar stool and pointed at both of us. “Be right back, I have to pee.”
Kristen was my project partner in one of my capstone classes. We’d gotten to know each other a lot over the last few years, especially being that we were two of the maybe five minorities in the English: Creative Writing program. She was from Brazil, and I loved her unique outlook on literature — especially modern American literature. I was going to miss her, but damn was I ready to get away from Palm South University.
I adjusted my graduation cap on my head, still annoyed that Jenna was making me wear it out all night. I always thought it was silly when grads did that, as if they were begging for attention or a pat on the back from every patron in the bars they attended on their graduation day. Still, I was in a good mood — I guess walking across the stage will do that to you. So, I indulged her, wearing my cap with a smile as we celebrated surviving the past four years. At least she’d let me change out of my gown and into a cute pair of jeans.
“So you’re booked the rest of the weekend until you leave Sunday night?” Jenna clarified again, her pouty lip protruding.
“Yes ma’am. Mom has a small family party planned tomorrow and then we’re driving out to the beach for the night and all of Sunday until I leave.”
“Well, I guess I can’t be mad at mother/daughter time,” Jenna compromised with a sigh. She lifted her beer to her lips but spoke again before taking a drink. “She’s going to miss you, you know.”
I joined her sigh. “I know.” Picking at the label on my beer, I thought about how close Mom and I had become over the last three years since I’d flown home from California. We’d grieved together, healed together, and grown together. I ended up living at home while I finished out my schooling at PSU, and as much as I loved reconnecting with Mom and growing even closer than before, I was ready to take on a new chapter. I was ready for a new city, for new people, for a new chance at finding myself. “She’ll be okay, though. She has Wayne.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me. Lucky bitch.”
I laughed and Jenna smirked, clearly not ashamed in the slightest that she had the hots for my mom’s boyfriend. They’d been dating for almost a year now, and he was good for her — he was good for both of us. He helped me apply to grad schools out of state when I was terrified to leave, and I was forever thankful for that.
