Page 23 of Don't Go
"Address?"
"What?"
"Where. Do. You. Live?"
He thought about it. His mouth opened. He produced three sounds that weren't words. He produced one word that wasn't an English word. He smiled.
I went back to Kit.
"I asked him."
"And?"
"He gave me the address in Klingon."
"Sabrina."
"What do I do?"
"Let him sober up. Cut him off and give him a glass of water every twenty minutes. We'll figure it out at close."
I did that.
I cut him glasses of water. He drank some of them. He kept on about my boyfriendBabyfor the rest of the shift. He asked if Baby was tall. He asked if Baby was nice to me. He asked if Baby liked dogs.Dogs.He told me Baby had better appreciate me. He told me, very serious, that if Baby ever made me cry he would personally deal with him.Hewould definitely deal with him.
I poured him another water. I didn't answer.
By close, he hadn't sobered up so much as moved into a second phase, which was sleepy-drunk, with his cheek on the bar and his eyes shut. Kit was already gone. His cousin had come for him because his car was in the shop. He'd waved at me on his way out, said good luck, and smiled like he saw it coming.
I shook Beau's shoulder.
"Mr. Cross."
He jerked his head up. His hand went into his jacket pocket like a man who'd been mugged in his sleep and came out with his wallet. He started counting bills onto the bar with great solemnity.
"For the drinks."
"That's nice of you, Mr. Cross."
"My—my mother—saiid pay for your drinks."
"Your mother sounds great. Where do you live?"
He looked up with a stunning, sudden seriousness—eyes focused for the first time all night.
I thought,Here it comes! Finally, an address. I'll get an Uber. I'll tip the Uber. I'll go home and forget this man exists. Here it comes!
"In your heart."
I closed my eyes.
Inhale. Exhale.
I opened them.
"Mr. Cross."
He smiled. The smile was sloppy. But for some odd reason I didn't hate it.
