Lottie snorts. She’s got Kit in her arms, bouncing him gently as he watches the gulls circle overhead. “Sure, because I can raise a kid, but one sip of champagne is just way too adult for me.”
“Champagne, huh?” I whistle. “Expensive tastes. I was thinking more beer and barbeque.”
Lottie smiles. “Really, anything is good. I just want to be able to dress up, stay out late, and pretend like I’m a normal twenty year old for one night.”
“Normal is overrated.” Delilah yawns. “I barely even remember my twentieth. I think I got hammered on tequila and went back to the dorms with some basketball player?” She squints, like she’s trying to peer through the haze of time. Dee brightens. “Chris! No, wait, Clive?” She shrugs and takes another sip of her Bloody Mary. “Anyway, it wasn’t exactly epic.”
“We can do better for you,” I reassure Lottie. “I’ve got the babysitter all lined up. It’ll be a great night.”
“I don’t know.” She looks hesitant. “Your idea of a great night is staying in watching old episodes of Friends. Can Dee help you plan something? Not that I don’t appreciate it,” she adds, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “But you’re not exactly the party girl around here.”
I try not to feel hurt. She doesn’t know a thing about my wild partying days. Ever since coming back to town, I’ve made it my mission to live a quiet life as possible. “Sure. Whatever you want. Dee?”
“I’m on it.” Dee yawns. “Just one question: would you rather wake up in Charlotte with a strange tattoo, or Albuquerque with a minor rodeo star?”
Lottie laughs. “As long as I don’t wake up with barf of my shirt and a guy wailing in the crib, I don’t care.”
“I can’t promise that.” Delilah grins.
We finish up, and once we’ve paid the check, Lottie happily passes all Kit’s diaper bags and toys over to me. I take him every Saturday while she works a shift at the salon, and I always love the time we spend together. “What’s the plan, Stan?” she rhymes, kissing him goodbye.
“I was thinking a walk along the boardwalk, then maybe go visit the ducks and stop by the library.”
“Go crazy.” She settles him in the stroller. “I’ve got a couple of clients this afternoon, but I should be done at the salon around four.”
“See you then.” I hug Dee goodbye, and set off along the boardwalk, pushing the stroller while Kit yawns and waves his pudgy little arms at the gulls perching on the fence.
My mind wanders back to Lottie’s comment. It’s ironic, her saying I don’t know how to party. She has no idea what I got up to in New York. Nobody does, not even Delilah. I kept those years under lock and key, hiding my wild nights and reckless days from everyone, even my parents. My own secret. Because the truth is, the things I did would shock them all: a blur of alcohol and pills, and nameless, faceless men. Looking back now, it feels like a stranger’s life to me.
I don’t know how it spiraled out of control, but it did. It happened so fast it made my head spin. After the heartbreak of senior year, I set off for drama school determined to leave my past behind and prove I could survive without Finn. I could start my life fresh where nobody knew my name or the ache that still lingered. I remember taking that first cab ride over the Brooklyn Bridge and vowing that things would be different this time.
I’d do whatever the hell I wanted, and not let anyone hurt me like that again.
So I was. I threw myself into everything the city had to offer, and it turned out that my roommate, Gracie, was only too happy to take me along for the ride. She was a city girl, equipped with scarlet lipstick, sarcastic smiles, and all the insider information. Like which doormen looked the other way at the downtown clubs, and how to flirt your way to a free hit of molly at the Brooklyn raves that pounded into the night. With her, the party never stopped. Every night was a different club, every morning waking up to a killer hangover in some stranger’s bed. It soon blurred together, metallic as the day-old soda I would use as mouthwash before stumbling into morning class. Months slipped by while I barely kept my grades above water. All the while, my heartbreak didn’t seem to mend. It was still there once the high wore off, reminding me of everything I lost.
Everything I was supposed to be.