Pray For Us (A Richie Jerimovich Story)

"Our Goddess Of Victory"

It was quiet for a bit as Richie started on the dishes, music in the background.

"Hey, can I talk to you about something?" Richie spoke up.

"Of course, what's up?" You asked.

"You haven't been like. Avoiding me or anything, right? I mean, we spent the night together after the funeral, and I haven't heard much from you since. I just, don't want things to be awkward or anything." He spoke quietly, something he doesn't usually do. And he didn't look at you, just kept his eyes on the dishes.

"Oh, no, Richie, I just got so stressed out and busy trying to find a place and move in. I wasn't at all trying to avoid you! I'm sorry, I should've called and made some time for you. I. I kind of, I don't know. I just kind of isolated, grieved. Why didn't you call me?"

"I don't know. I didn't know if you had left or if it would've been weird." He still wasn't looking at you.

"Richie, come on. How long have we known each other?"

"Yeah." He said, almost a whisper, "a long ass time, you're right."

"I told you I'm always here for you. I meant that and I still do. If you need me I'll be here."

"Thanks. I am too." He finally looked over at you and nodded.

"Besides, if I was avoiding you I wouldn't have shown up at the beef today, where you work. And then I wouldn't have invited you over!" You laugh trying to lighten the mood.

"That's true, and now I know where you live so you can't avoid me now- even if you wanted to!" He joked back.

"Exactly, see? All is well." You got up to grab another beer.

"You need another?"

"I'm almost done with mine." He said walking over to the table and chugging the last few gulps down.

"Now I need another." Richie smirked at you, you chuckled an "ok" then handed him a fresh beer.

"You know, I actually brought something. I was waiting for the right time, but. I guess now is as good as any." He shrugged. He picked up a bag he was hiding on the floor next to his seat.

"You know, it's party time- we ate, we talked, now it's time to get loaded. So I thought, what better way to celebrate." He pulled the bottle out of the bag.

"Whiskey Acres' straight bourbon whiskey, bottled in bond."

"Michael's favourite." You smiled and you felt your eyes get slightly watery.

"This is actually the bottle he gave me."

You're eyes went wide in surprise, "Are you sure you want to open it then? I mean. We can get another bottle of it to drink and we can keep that one." 

"I'm sure. Mikey would want us to drink it." Richie looked at the bottle solemnly. Then his tone changed. "He would want us to get wasted and party in his honour!" You both laughed a little.

"Yeah, he would." You agreed.

"So. Come here." He took your hand and as he held the bottle, with his hand on yours, he guided you to open it and you both opened it, the cork popping out of it.

"Here," you walked to the cabinet and grabbed two shot glasses, Richie poured the shots and you each raised one up.

"To Mikey."
"To Mikey."

"Our Goddess of Victory." You said.

"Pray for us." Richie responded.

"Let it rip." You both said taking the shot. It almost sounded like a third voice spoke with you two.