Madeline
“Heads I tell her. Tails I don’t. It’s as simple as that,” Michelle holds up a quarter with a grin on her face.
“This is someone’s life. You can’t just determine that you are going to tell her based on a coin flip. I didn’t tell you that secret so that you can wreck someone’s life.” Lila pleaded.
“Sure I can. If you can do something so reckless, then so can I. Ready?” At that Michelle throws the quarter in the air and it lands on the wooden bar top. “Heads it is.” Michelle pushes away from the bar and stands. She is a bit wobbly on her feet but she finds her balance.
“Please don’t! I’m begging you. This is serious. I told you that in confidence,” Lila finds herself on her feet grabbing at Michelle’s arm. But somehow, regardless of drinking drink for drink, Michelle was much more steady on her feet.
Michelle turned to look back at Lila with small eyes, “I know this is serious. That is why I am doing it.”
“But you can’t base telling someone about something so big on a coin flip. It has got to be more rational than that.” Lila may have had a few cocktails but this reasoning sounded like a sober one.
That is until Michelle responds with, “more rational? How about, you should have thought rationally before you made a poor decision and she should be told.” Michelle turns around and makes a b-line to the curly haired woman sitting on the other side of the U-shaped bar.
Lila can’t argue with that logic. Lila shrank back in the barstool and looked down at the empty martini glass in front of her. She figured she had two options, to flee the scene and leave Michelle behind or to face the consequences. Lila decides that she is the one who made a bad decision. She is the one who made a mistake. It is time to rip off the band aid. She made her grave. Now it was time to lay in it.
Lila flagged the bartender down with a single finger, “a shot of Patron, please.”
By now Michelle was on the other side of the bar. Lila watched the interaction with interest but tried not to stare. Michelle pointed at Lila and the curly haired woman looked at Lila. At first with interest and then with rage. In Lila’s drunkenness, she is tempted to wave, but that felt inappropriate for the situation.
There is now fire in the woman’s eyes. Her name is Kathrine. But she goes by Katie. Kate. Kathy. Something like that. I wouldn’t know because I have never been properly introduced to her. I only know who she is from the link on his Instagram. From Joe’s instagram. The curly haired woman was tagged in his posts with captions like “A greatly needed date night” and “Finally, a night without the kids.” He is not a big poster, but when Lila found her Instagram she couldn’t help scrolling.
“Liam’s first birthday #ProudMommy”
“Ava is such a handful #NaughtyChild”
Katie/ Katie/ Kathy says something to the blonde next to her. Lila doesn’t recognize the blonde. She is not in any of the Instagram posts. At least she doesn’t remember the blonde being in any of the posts. It’s mostly family pictures anyways. Pictures of the family of four.
Lila’s shot of tequila is placed in front of her with a splash. Not a drop leaves the tiny shot glass until she picks it up and it’s gone.
The blonde takes a wallet from her bag and places dollar bills on the bar with force. Katie/ Katie/ Kathy now has tears streaming down her face. The blonde grabs Katie/ Katie/ Kathy’s arm and drags her out of the bar. The tightness in Lila’s chest is released. She can go back to a drunken night with her best friend.
Michelle walks back to her original barstool with authority. She doesn’t sit. She grabs her own bag and pulls a wallet out from inside. She throws three twenties on the bar.
“Don’t call me ever again,” Michelle, my best friend for the past three years, says. Under her breath she adds, “homewrecker.” She then follows in Katie/ Katie/ Kathy’s footsteps out the bar door.
“Another Patron,” Lila says to the bartender, shining a glass nearby. He pauses, looking at Lola from the top of his glasses. Then pulls the bottle from the shelf.
The next morning, as Lila nurses the hangover from hell with a cup of strong black coffee and enough Advil to feed a small country, she stares at the wall. She couldn’t remember how she got home. But she does recall some yelling and crying was involved. Lola’s heart was heavy and she felt it in her hangover. She felt like this was a hangover she deserved.
It all started with a conversation. It was innocent at first. Three weeks ago, Lola ventured out to a dive bar in an effort to get out of her stuffy apartment. Since the pandemic, her company turned to work at home which meant she never left her house and never talked to a soul except her pomeranian, Curtis.
She sat down next to an average man with blonde hair and light scruff on his face, and without any intentions except to experience human interactions, she sparked up a conversation. Simple questions like, “what do you do?” and “Where are you from originally?” But it turned into flirty banter faster than Lola had expected. Flirty banter turned into kissing. Kissing turned into going back to her place. Going back to her place turned into…. She never got his number, but knew his name, Joe Farley. She did what any normal woman in her 20s would do, she looked him on on social media. She found him almost instantly. But then she found Kathrine Farley almost instantly as well.
And now she has the hangover from hell to pay for it.
Lola opened Instagram on her phone, finding “Kathrine Farley”. Lola squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them to see that in the most recent post on Kathrine’s Instagram. She was dressed in a white fluffy sweater. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were flushed. She was wearing little if no makeup and all the caption read was “#heartbroken”.
