Page 42 of Big & Lily

I take a long gulp of my beer, then ask the bartender for a shot of anything he’s got. What the hell. It arrives quickly, and I swallow it in one—having no idea what I just drank. The thick liquid flows like lava all the way to my toes. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and smile. Holding it together is for the birds. I put the shot glass down with a bang, ask for another, and meet my host’s startlingly blue, now slightly concerned eyes. “Brick, no offense, but can we stop talking about my sister? All I do is talk about Lily. All my life it’s Lily this and Lily that. I need a vacation from it.” I cackle, which is worse than a harrumph. “I need a vacation from this vacation.”

The shot arrives, and I take it out of the bartender’s hand before he can place it on the counter. I squeeze my eyes tight and swallow, ignoring the fire but relishing the afterburn. In my peripheral vision I see Brick making a swiping gesture at his throat to the guy behind the bar. He’s cutting me off. Guess I am about to put him in the red.

“Well then, Bridget. Let’s talk about you, then. Who is Bridget?”

I lean my elbow on the bar and my head in my hand. Above me, the stuffed owl peers down wanting to know the same thing.

“Nobody, really.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Okay, I don’t mean nobody. I guess I mean nobody special. I’m a housewife, a mom, a sister, a daughter. Just like a billion other people. I’ve got a lot of people counting on me all the time. I’m always feeling like I do too much and never enough.” I signal the bartender, but he doesn’t see me. Or pretends not to.

“Wow, that’s a full plate. And who does Bridget count on?”

“Bridget can take care of herself.”

The real answer is Tim. He’s the guy I turn to. The one I can always count on, have done for the past twenty-eight years, ever since we met at the construction job. I was only twenty-one, right out of college with a degree in Literary Criticism and American Studies—a decision my mother had argued against since my freshman year. She ended up being right. Turned out, knowing the narrative perspective and social, economic, and political implications ofPride and Prejudicewasn’t an easy stepping stone to paying my rent. For that I took a job at Costello Construction and met my own Mr. Darcy.

A pang of guilt clutches me. Tim is the guy I should be throwing back shots with. (Actually, Tim would know not to let me throw back shots, having fully experienced the aftermath of one of my few and far between sloppy nights.) But Tim is not here to stop me. Wonderful, steady, dependable Tim will be home when I get there, and our life will continue as it always has. Instead, I’m staring at this rugged mountain man who is buying me drinks and pretending that if Lily could do it, so could I. Which is so laughable I let out a guffaw that gets stuck in my throat and sounds like I’m trying to spit up phlegm. I’m sure my vocalization alone makes me instantly desirable to the opposite sex. Besides, things like that don’t happen to me. There hasn’t been so much as a flirtation unless you count the time a young man at the coffee shop gave me free whipped cream on my Frappuccino. Still, the expressionmarried not deadflows through my alcohol-soaked brain. Where is the line, I wonder, after a decades-long marriage? What does it mean to be flirty but faithful? Is it so traitorous just to admire—from afar? Something my married, albeit not for much longer, sister is not doing.

That thought brings me right back to why I’m sitting in a bar getting sloshed to begin with, and I’m steamed with my sister all over again. “You are such a nice guy to hang out with me, Brick.But like I said, I can take care of myself. You must want to get out of here. A wife to go home to or something. You can’t be expected to babysit your clients twenty-four seven.”

He takes a long drink of his beer and wipes the condensation from the glass on his jeans. “No one waiting—my ex is in Fairbanks—no home either. I winter in Seward, but during tourist season, me and the crew have a camp spot set up on the other side of the barn, away from the cabins, to give you all your privacy.”

“Well, some people aren’t shy about taking advantage of that.” I laugh and tap my empty shot glass on the bar. If I’m going to have to think about Lily right now, I’ll need another drink. The bartender raises an eyebrow for Brick’s approval, which gets my hackles up. I’m not a child. When Brick nods his head in agreement, he is forgiven.

“Let me ask you a different question, then. You could have vacationed almost anywhere. What brings you to Alaska?”

“Lily.”

Brick rolls his eyes. “I thought we weren’t talking about Lily.”

“But she’s the reason,” I say, and then I scooch my stool a little closer to him. He smells like whatever heat smells like. Whiskey, moss, wood, smoke. “Can I tell you a secret?” He leans in. “I don’t even want to be here. I came under duress.”

“Duress, huh? I’ll try not to take that personally.”

My drink arrives. I throw my shot back. The room starts to spin, but I hang on tight.

“Please don’t,” I say, pushing my stool back to its original spot. “It’s not you, it’s me. Or it’s my sister. She can be very convincing when she wants to be.”

“That tracks.”

“Ah, yes. You’ve seen her in action. She has an effect on people. Seriously,” I say, wagging a finger, “I’m always watching out for her. Lily is my, well, in many ways, Lily is my responsibility. And herhus— well, she’s had some trouble, and I want to be there for her. I guess, there is here. Alaska. How’s that for a convoluted answer?”

“It sounds like an answer from someone who loves her sister.”

I snort. Good God, I’m batting a thousand. “Well, I am protective of her, yes. Like the adult in the room, sure. Frustrated, often. Exasperated, absolutely.”

“Sounds like love to me.”

I run my finger around the rim of my empty shot glass. This man has a way of pointing things out you should have seen all along. The facts are obvious.

“Yes, I guess it does,” I say.

Brick slaps his hand on the bar. “Well, now that that’s settled, let’s get back to the matter at hand. Bridget, sister extraordinaire. How can Alaska serveyou? The Last Frontier will give you endless gifts if you let it.”

“I’m better at giving the gifts.”