Shut Up and Talk

Chapter 27

I found myself going down to Paul's place a lot, maybe because I didn't feel like I could go to Ian's anymore. One evening I showed up to Paul's unexpectedly with a bottle of wine in hand. By the smell of him, he'd started drinking without me and his choice of beverage was heartier than anything I'd come with. I couldn't fault him for wanting to unwind with a shot of whiskey. The last few weeks would've driven anyone to drink.

"Are we celebrating?" he asked, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with two full glasses of wine.

"No, just trying to forget the bad things in life. I'm going to be thirty-one."

"Is that old?"

"Yes! In man years I'm old enough to be Ian's mother, so this calls for an occasion to get drunk."

"He's barely speaking to me, you know. Reckons I'm the one who started all this."

"So you're getting the silent treatment. Maybe you're the lucky one."

"Ian's problem is that he's too busy trying to be someone he's not," Paul said.

"You said so yourself; he's weak."

"I'm not going to put up with any of his crap."

I sipped my wine while Paul downed his glass in one swallow. He hobbled back into the kitchen and brought back a half empty bottle of whiskey. "Forgive me, but I'll stick to the good stuff." He poured himself a liberal glass and slunk into a chair.

I stretched out on the sofa, cradling my glass and savouring its contents. "Did you know about the American?"

"What American?"

"The one he disappeared with."

"First I've heard of it. How'd you find out?"

"People have been gossiping."

Paul gulped back more whiskey. "Why do you care?"

"I don't."

Paul's eyebrows rose. "You don't?"

"I'm a little curious, that's all," I said in a failed attempt to be flip.

"This new ride of his making you feel old and dreadful?"

The shot burned. "Thank you for putting it so gently."
"How old's this one? Seems the older Ian gets, the younger the birds are."

"About twenty, or so I've heard."

"Twenty? You are quite a bit older." He whistled unfavourably and threw back the rest of his whiskey. To my astonishment he poured another glass. I'd barely finished my glass of wine and he had consumed enough alcohol to give me a three-day hangover.

"Your math skills are impressive."

"Leda, you really mustn't envy Ian's girls."

"Who said I was envious?"

"Just admit you're smitten with my brother."

I scrambled up to a seated position. "Are you insane? The whiskey must be drowning your brain cells."

"I know it, you know it and Ian knows it."

For a second I couldn't find my breath. "You know nothing! Have you and Ian been discussing this?"

"No need to get angry. We haven't."

"Then I'd appreciate if you didn't talk about it."

He let out a chortle. "Until a moment ago I wasn't sure how you felt about him. Now it's obvious."