guilty for noticing how pretty Lily looks today. Plus, there is the fact that we’re here celebrating the life of my dead wife. Other than that…just like old times.
A few hours go by, and the crowd starts to diminish. I’m left with final hugs and well wishes from Stella’s friends and family. I turn down offers to go out with the guys, but I promise them that we’ll stay in touch.
After Ben and the guys leave, I start to regret not taking them up on their invitation to go out. Dread starts to sink in when I realize that I have to go back to my house…to our house. I just want this illusion of happiness fed by good food, alcohol, and friends to remain a little longer. I know that once I step foot into the house I shared with Stella, the ghost of what I lost is going to haunt me again. I’m not ready for that. It has been so long, even before her death, since I have felt this light, carefree. I can’t face the darkness yet.
I turn to Lily. “Little, I don’t want to go home.”
“Then, don’t,” she answers. “What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, we could go to another bar around here?” she suggests.
I think about it for a moment. “No…definitely no.”
Not only will all the bars around here remind me of Stella, but I’m also sure to be recognized. The last thing I want to do right now is take a selfie with a drunken college chick or talk about the game with all the football know-it-alls of the world. Definitely no.
“Okay. Well, why don’t we just hop in a cab and see where we end up?” Lily shrugs her shoulders and grins.
“Hop in a cab?” I question. “And just see where we end up?” I slowly repeat her words.
“Sure. Why not? What else do we have to do today? Let’s have an adventure.” She giggles.
“How much have you had to drink today?”
She shrugs. “Not so much that I can’t think straight but enough that I can’t think clearly.”
“That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.” I chuckle.
She playfully hits me on the arm. “Yes, it does. It makes total sense.”
“No, Little. It really doesn’t, but I think I’m right there with ya.”
Our families along with the rest of the few remaining guests leave. I say my good-byes to Stella’s parents, promising that I won’t be a stranger.
Lily and I exit the restaurant.
“Okay. Let’s go over this.” She hiccups. “Did you call a cab?”
“Check,” I answer.
“Do we have our wallets?”
I feel for my wallet in my pocket. “Check.”
“Do we know where we are going?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Then, check.” She smiles.
The yellow cab pulls up, and we hop in, sliding across the slick backseat.
“Where to?” the driver asks.
Lily turns to me. “Real quick. East or west?”
“What?” I question.
“Come on, Jax. Would you rather go east or west? No thinking. Just answer.”
“How come our whole lives have been filled with questions?” My drunken brain takes over. “Shouldn’t we know the answers by now?”
“Jax!” she whines.
“Fine. East,” I answer.
Lily claps her hands together and speaks to the driver, “Can you get on I-ninety-four and go east?”
“Sure. Where to?” he responds.
“We don’t know yet. Just head east.”
“Okay…” the driver says, clearly confused.
The car pulls onto the highway.
“So, now what?” I ask.
“I don’t know. We’ll know when we know.”
“Right. We’ll know when we know,” I repeat.
Lily and I sit together in the middle of the seat. We’ve been in the cab for almost half an hour, playing the shortened version of our childhood game Would You Rather.
“Shots or beer?” she asks.
“Beer.”
“Bottle or tap?”
“Tap.”
“Disney World or Disneyland?”
“World.”
“Mangoes or peaches?”
“Mangoes.”
“Diamonds or pearls?”
“Diamonds,” I answer.
“Why?”
I think for a moment. “They’re strong, shiny, beautiful, and forever.”
“Yeah.” She nods her head, deep in thought. She sits up abruptly. “Did you see that?”
“What?”
“That place. We just passed a place. It was called Diamond something.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“Hey,” Lily calls to the driver, “we just passed a place called Diamond something. What is it?”
“It’s a country-western bar.”
She claps her hands together, looking to me. “Did you hear that? It’s a bar! It’s a sign.”
“It’s a country bar. We don’t even like country music.”
“Exactly! It will be fun!” She leans up to address the driver, “Can you turn around and take us to that bar?”
“Sure thing,” he says, sounding relieved.
We pay the driver and make our way into the bar—or Saloon as it says in its title. We’re immediately met with a loud country music