Chapter Twenty

Two days prior to Thanksgiving, Dr. Rashan called Mae with the scan results; Vascular Dementia confirmed. With stiff upper lip, Mae phoned Libby with the news, and in the same breath offered turkey-basting tips as though the life-altering diagnosis was nothing more than a runny nose.

Libby, rocked to her core, tore into the Cheese Bites.

“Why don’t you get out tonight?” Bob suggested on his way out the door for work. “Call Caroline and you wild women go shoe shopping, or something equally girly, and take your mind off everything.”

“I think you’re onto something,” Libby said between bites. “We could both use a break. Caroline’s going head-to-head with Trev lately; I know she could use time out.” She mentally checked off her to-do list for the rest of the day. “I think I’ve got Turkey Day covered, we just need a few odds and ends I can grab tomorrow. Can you handle the kids tonight?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested otherwise. You need this, Lib, go out and blow off some steam. We have a house full of dysfunctional family descending on us Thursday; take a break while you still can.”

“That reminds me, did you confirm what time Shelia’s flight lands?”

“Five, I’ll blow out of work around three and head to the airport.” Wisely, Bob cleaned and made the guestroom bed in preparation for his mother’s arrival. He knew leaving the task to Libby ran the risk of adding more stress to her already overflowing plate. “The guest room is all set, and I’ll grab Chinese food for us on the way home from the airport. Go straight from work tonight. Don’t come home, the kids won’t let you leave. Enjoy. We’re covered.”

When life handed Libby regrettable news, Bob was the first shoulder she cried on. Caroline was a close second. Her best friend’s sympathy was always accompanied by goldfish bowl-sized margaritas and overloaded nachos. Libby needed a mental jailbreak, and Caroline was more than happy to be her partner in crime.

Outside Redwood & Sterling, Libby spotted Caroline waiting by the door. “Hop in,” Libby said. Caroline jumped into the front seat.

Her sleek black suit made Libby feel frumpy. “Great. You look like a professional powerhouse, and I’m the sensible-shoe-wearing cute friend.”

“Knock it off,” Caroline laughed. “I didn’t have time to run home and grab a more get-your-drunk-on outfit. Anyway, the sensible-shoe friend is always cute, in a frightening androgynous way.” She adjusted her coat and settled in. “Did you ’fess up and let Bob know we opted for food and adult beverages in lieu of retail therapy?”

“Yes, he’s all in favor.”

The friends crossed Rhyme city limits and headed into Norwich for two reasons. First, The Cantina, an authentic Mexican restaurant on the water, served the best guacamole this side of Tijuana. Second, Libby was in no mood for chitchat with the PTO parents destined to be at locally eateries. She needed tequila; it was better outside city limits.

“So, let’s get the bad stuff over with on the ride so we can enjoy every wonderful calorie those Nachos Grande pack.” Caroline smacked her lips in anticipation. “How’s Mae since she spoke with the doctor?”

“She’s exactly how you would expect.” Libby shook her head. “Firmly avoiding the subject and focusing on anything and everything except what we genuinely need to talk about. Her obsession of the moment is Thanksgiving, and then it will be Christmas.”

She pushed her hand through her hair. “The sad part is until we pin her down; she’ll just keep going this way. I have to call Sean and Kevin and set up some kind of meeting of the minds.”

“Have you three talked yet? Do you have a plan?”

“We talked, but as far as a plan—it’s got to come from Mom.”

Libby took the exit ramp for Norwich. A mile up the road they pulled into the Cantina. The restaurant interior was lit with glowing red candles and hanging lanterns. Bright Mexican blankets hung above a nicked and scratched oak bar.

The host led Caroline and Libby to a booth in back, and within minutes, a young waiter named Rico brought warm homemade tortilla chips and fresh salsa. He took their drink order and disappeared.

“Busy in here tonight.” Caroline said, looking to the bar. “Is it just me, or is the crowd over there still in diapers?”

“It’s you. We’re older than dirt.” Libby reviewed the menu. “What are we eating?”

“I need cheese, nothing else really matters.” Caroline dipped a chip into the salsa and popped it into her mouth. “I’m not sure why chips and salsa taste so much better when we go out, it’s the same stuff I have at home.”

“It’s the taste of freedom that comes with them.” Libby closed the menu. “Let’s get the big nachos and fajitas. I’m hungry; forks will only slow me down.”

“Works for me,” Caroline agreed.

The waiter came back with their drink order. “God bless you, Rico.” Libby snatched the margarita directly out of his hand. With the first sip, her tension eased.

“Rough day?” Rico asked.

“Rough month.”

“Well, let’s take care of that for you.” His give-the-handsome-kid-a-big-tip smile was perfection. “What can I get for you ladies?”

“We’re going to have the Grande Nachos with extra guacamole and an order of chicken fajitas, extra tortillas, por favor.”

Rico grinned and turned on his innate Latino charm. “Ah, se habla español, señora?”

“Um...”—Libby no habla—“Sorry, I can only ask for the library, bathroom, or beer.”

Rico laughed. “Well, in the part of Mexico I’m from, that’s all you need to know.” He picked up their menus. “You ladies just wave if you need anything else.”

Caroline sipped her margarita. “No worries Rico, we’ll wave until we can’t feel our arms.”

Chuckling, Rico walked away.

Caroline took in the sight of his backside. “Okay, I think my men sabbatical is taking its toll. I blatantly checked his twenty-something ass without a shred of shame. I’m a horny old woman.”

“And I’m proud to call you my friend.” Libby grinned.

After half a margarita and power chip-grazing, Libby felt her stress level subside. “I so needed this. Thanks.”

“Hey, no thanks needed. You never have to twist my arm for a night out.”

Rico returned with two shots of tequila. “Ladies, the gentleman at the end of the bar wishes you to have these. Enjoy.” He placed the drinks down and walked away.

Stunned, the women looked to the bar. A heavyset bald man raised his glass. His size-too-small navy suit pulled across his thick waist.

“Help me out here,” Libby asked Caroline, “Are we flattered by this, or devastated at the caliber of guy we’re attracting these days?”

“Neither.” Caroline smiled and mouthed a big thank you to their alcohol fairy. “We’re thirsty. Just smile at the nice man like he stands a chance. Bottoms up, O’Rourke.”

Tequila is addicting, Libby discovered, and when consumed to excess, no amount of food will counter the mind-altering effects.

Alan, the stalker from the bar, joined them with a second shot after dinner. He was a copy paper salesperson from Ohio in town on business. He concluded the polite conversation after he discovered Libby was married and Caroline bragged about her mythical six children.

When the room took on a blurry glow, Libby called home. “Hi honey, I love you so, so much.”

Bob could hear the tequila in her voice and smiled into the phone. “How loaded are you?”

“I’m not loaded, I’m just happy. And I love you. You should be happy I love you. I am.” Libby rambled while intermittently humming along with the mariachi band. “Don’t you love me?”

“Yes sweetheart, I love you, even in your drunken state. I’m assuming you need a ride home. Did your accomplice tie one on, too?”

Libby turned to Caroline. “He wants to know if you’re as happy as I am.”

Caroline grabbed the phone. “I love you Bob—but not in a sexual way. To me, you will never have a penis. Lib owns your penis.”

“Crap.” He shook his head. “You are a bad influence. Put Lib back on.”

She handed the phone back. “He loves me, too...but he wants to talk to you.”

Libby got back on the line. “We both love you. Isn’t that great?” A small burp escaped. “Alan does not love either of us. He was nice, but we couldn’t love him.”

“Alan?” Bob questioned.

“He sells copy paper in Ohio and smells like cabbage. Caroline does not like cabbage or copy paper, so there was no way she was going to end her men sabbatical and head back to the Marriott with him. Poor Alan, no one to love.”

She paused only long enough to take a breath. “And then there’s Rico, he’s young and cute, and his name’s not actually Rico, it’s Dave—he’s a grad student in philosophy at UConn. Caroline may go all cougar and pounce on him. She gets a little scary when she hasn’t gotten any in a while.”

“You are going to be loads of fun tomorrow,” Bob said. He needed a plan to retrieve the duo. “The kids are asleep, and Dom’s at poker night, so he can’t stay with them.” He thought for a second. “I’ll ask Sean to come pick up your sorry butts. Stay put. If Alan comes back, tell him you have a big, mean husband who will kick his copy-paper-ass right back to the Buckeyes. And for Christ’s sake, put Caroline on a leash.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Libby answered. “You have the best ideas. Have I ever told you that? I love your ideas. I love you, Bob.”

“I got that. Sit tight. The cavalry is coming.” Hanging up, he dialed Sean.

“Hey Bob,” Sean said. “Everything okay?”

Bob laughed. “Oh yeah, everything is just great, but I need a favor.”

“Roof shingles come loose again?”

“I wish.” It dawned on him that Sean mighty have a date over. “Sorry, I should have asked right away if you are alone.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Bad for you, good for me. Your little sister and her evil sidekick managed to get toasted out at The Cantina and need a ride home.”

“Nice.”

“I know. I’m tremendously proud.”

“I’ll get them.” Climbing off the sofa, Sean slid into his shoes and coat. “How bad are they? Should I put towels down in the truck?”

“They’ve been drinking since six o’clock with an Ohio paper salesman that smells funny and a young stud named Rico-slash-Dave. Oh, and apparently they both love me.”

“Shit. I’ll grab the towels.”

At The Cantina Sean parked alongside Libby’s minivan.

Inside he spotted the pair at the bar with a group of men and women in mud-caked softball uniforms. Empty shot glasses and acres of beer bottles lined the bar. A Goliath of a shortstop, complete with eye black and muscle shirt, cozied up to Caroline with a predatory gleam in his eye. Sean growled under his breath and made his way to the bar.

Libby saw him first. “Yay, it’s my big brother!” she slurred. Everybody, this is Sean!”

Shouts of welcome sprang from the crowd. Sean hoped they all had a ride home—there was only room in the truck for three.

“Hey.” He wedged between Caroline and the cave man. “Big win tonight?” he asked with a keep off glare. The crowd erupted before the ball player could answer. Sean turned to face the mob. “I take that as a yes.”

A lanky brunette sidled up alongside him. “Have a beer with us, Sean,” she purred. “We never win, it’s time to celebrate, and you look like you need a good time.”

“Wish I could stay, but I can’t tonight.” He pointed to Libby and Caroline. “I’m just here to shuttle these two trouble makers back to sobriety.”

“Come on, just one little bitty drink?” Her mascara-drenched eyes batted.

He sighed. Libido won out. “Okay, one drink.”

Bob’s phone rang an hour later. He bolted awake and noticed Libby was still missing from their bed. He answered. “Hello?” Dead pause. “Hello?”

Sean spoke. “I love you, Bob.”

“Shit.”

Kevin pulled his sensible SUV into the lot next to Sean’s truck. Rumpled and sleep-deprived, he walked into the restaurant and located his siblings by their loud, pitch-less singing voices. Gathered around the bar, his target trio belted out the best of the ’80’s with a crowd of ball players, several off-duty wait staff, and three questionable-looking bikers.

Standing apart from the singing, Caroline saw Kevin first. “Hey look, it’s Kevin!” she said.

Shouts of “Kevin” rang throughout the bar.

“He was my prom date everybody. Isn’t he cute?” Her alcohol-soaked babble continued. “Kev is such a sweetheart, but his wife has implants. He’s such a nice guy, he deserves real boobs.” She turned to the bikers. “Don’t you think nice guys are entitled to real boobs?”

They nodded in agreement.

Mouth open, Kevin put his arm around Caroline’s shoulder. “Um, I’m just going to say, thank you and suggest it’s time for us to all get going. That sound okay to you Caroline?”

She planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “You are so sweet, Kev. I love you.”

“Yes, I hear there’s a lot of love going around tonight.” Kevin smiled in spite of himself.

He turned to Libby and Sean, both siblings leaning on the bar for support. “You’ve managed to drink the place dry, kids. Mae’s going to break out the rosary beads after she hears about this one. Get in the car and I’ll take everyone home. Some of us have to go to work tomorrow and, although this is extremely gratifying for me on so many levels, I need sleep.”

Sean grabbed Kevin in a bear hug and lifted him off the ground. “Thanks for coming to get us, Squirt. I promise not to puke in the dad-mobile.” He motioned to Libby and Caroline. “I’m not too sure about these two, though.”

“Great, I’m sure salsa vomit in the car will thrill Suzanne to pieces.”

Kevin paid the group’s tab. “Let’s go troops.”

A blast of cold November air hit them as they left the bar.

Libby ran for the car. “Hurry up, open the door,” she begged. Kevin popped the lock, and she tumbled into the passenger seat.

Sean slid in back and bumped into something hard. “You got a baby seat back here?”

“Hey genius,” Kevin snapped, “I have a baby. I can’t strap her to the roof rack.”

“How do I get it out?” Sean asked.

“For Christ’s sake, don’t touch it. It took me a freaking day to get that thing in there right. Just squish in, one of you sit on the hump between the seats. It’s a ten-minute ride.”

Caroline pulled Sean out of the car. “I’m smaller, I’ll ride the hump.”

Libby burst out laughing. “Drive over a lot of bumps for her Kev. It will be the most action she’s seen in months.”

Sean followed Caroline into the car. “Fine, Captain Horny, ride the hump, but if you puke, aim for the kid’s seat and away from me.”

Within two minutes of leaving the parking lot, all three inebriated passengers were asleep. Libby’s head was pressed up against the front passenger window, mouth open, nose pushed up on the glass. A faint trail of saliva dripped down her chin. Seizing the opportunity, Kevin snapped a picture with his phone.

In the rearview mirror, Kevin looked at Sean and Caroline and had an odd thought—the pair seemed to fit naturally together. Caroline’s head rested on Sean’s chest, his arm wrapped snuggly around her. A familiar intimacy existed between the couple, an intimacy Kevin failed to notice before now. He grinned to himself and planned a chat with his older brother on Thanksgiving about his revelation.

The O’Rourke’s front porch light came on as Kevin’s headlights cut across the front yard. Bob stepped out and walked toward the car. “Thanks, Kev.” He lifted Libby from the front seat. She was out cold. “I owe you.”

Kevin shut the passenger door. “You owe me nothing.” He showed Bob the picture on his cell phone. “This amount of blackmail ammo is worth more than you can ever pay me.”

Bob looked at the photo, then down at his wife. “Yeah, I’d hold onto that one. You never know when you may need it.” Bob peered into the back seat. “You need help getting those two home?”

“No, I’m good. I’ll make sure Caroline gets inside.” Kevin pointed to Sean. “I’ll drive by his condo and push him out onto the lawn.” He got back in the car and rolled down the window. “See you Thursday; we’ll pick up Mom on the way over.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

As Kevin pulled away, Libby regained a small bit of consciousness. “Bob?”

“Yep, it’s me.” He smiled. “You’re home, wild woman, time for bed.”

She rolled her head to one side, groaning. “I love you.”

“I know.” He gave her a small kiss and drew back. His face contorted into an awful expression. “Did you throw up tonight?”

“A little,” she grimaced. “Rico’s shoes are ruined.”