Page 98 of The Do-Over

“I shouldn’t have any more to drink,” I said, sliding into a chair across from her.

“Nonsense! You can never have too much alcohol or chocolate.”

“I’m pretty sure you can.”

She shrugged. “Just have a little and stay with me. I doubt your mother will come over here anyway. You’re safe.”

Good point. I nodded and sipped at the drink. The sugar and heat of the bourbon warmed me from the inside and went straight to my already fuzzy head. I set the glass to the side.

Mimi patted my arm. “You’ve done a great job. The food is delicious.”

“Yep. It’s all going along swimmingly.” Swimmingly was a good word, and it reminded me of Sal, and that reminded me I’d much rather be home, curled up with a good book or maybe making out with Nate in a closet while Lilah watched a movie. I hiccupped and giggled too loudly.

“You have had a bit to drink, haven’t you?” Mimi frowned.

My head felt heavy and light all at the same time. How was that possible? New Perci shrugged. Who cares?

“Let’s get you some water.” She pushed the plate toward me. “Try the artichoke dip while I get it. Good stuff.”

Pressing a finger to my lips, I studied the plate before choosing a baby carrot and dipping it in hummus.

Mimi placed a cup of water at my elbow. “There you go. Now, drink up.”

But I didn’t drink it. I hunted down the artichoke dip and a cracker. This was much better than dumb vegetables, and I was hungry. A gnawing sort of hunger that seemed bottomless. I shoved another cracker in my mouth. “This is delicious.”

Mimi scooted the glass closer. “Now, slow down and drink that water too.”

I ignored her. Dip fell off a cracker on its way to my mouth and landed half on my cleavage, half on my dress.

“Well, shoot.” My voice sounded loud to my own ears. I used my fingers to scrape off the dip and shove it in my mouth. It was good dip, no need to waste it. In the process, my elbow banged into the cup of water, and it took a dive off the table and landed in my lap.

I sucked in a breath when the ice water made contact and shot to my feet with a loud—and very impolite—curse word.

“Oh, lawd,” Mimi muttered. She stood and started dabbing at me with little white-and-gold napkins I’d had made for the party. They read: Craig and Roberta Mayfield, Thirty Years of Wedded Bliss. Underneath that was their wedding date.

Lies.

My whole life was surrounded by lies. My parents had lied about their wedding date. My mother lied about how she felt about me. My sister was lying about Joel Allen. I couldn’t be blamed for all my lies lately, could I? I was following in the family tradition. Liars beget liars, or something.

“Here comes your mother,” Mimi said. “Let me handle her.”

I was tired of lying, though. It took a lot of energy.

“What is going on over here?” Mom hissed. “Everyone is looking at you.”

When I glanced around, dozens of eyes were fixed on me.

“Are you drunk?” Mom asked, wrapping a hand around my arm.

“Maybe? I don’t know.” I frowned. “I have to tell you something.”

“Lower your voice.”

I straightened and scowled. “No. You can’t tell me what to do anymore. New Perci is her own person.”

“Let’s go in the house and talk.”

“Nah-uh. I’m going to say it now.” I flung an arm out. “I pretended Nate was my boyfriend because I didn’t want you to think I was pathetic Old Perci who couldn’t get herself a date. But guess what? We’re dating now. Oh, yes, we are. A-and he’s a construction worker. Ha! Oh, I lied when I said I had my job even though I have it now, but I didn’t have it then, and now it’s closing, and I won’t have any job.” I turned to the crowd of gawkers. “And Brent and I didn’t go our separate ways like my mom wants me to say. He broke up with me on the radio because I’m boring.”