A few days later, Maggie left to visit her sister and return to Thurston. Kirsty had to assure her many times that she would be all right.
And she was all right, for a while. She spent a great deal of time cleaning out her closets and the kitchen cupboards. She wondered why she bothered to keep things so clean when no one else was in the house except herself. She hoped housework would keep her mind uncluttered, but nothing could stop her from thinking about Derek. Every time the phone rang she knew it was him. But she was too scared to answer his calls. She found excuses to leave the house so she would not have to feel guilty about avoiding him.
Kirsty realized how empty her life was and how hard it was to be alone when the only thing she could think of to do was wander around shopping malls and watch other people. She could feel their lives pulsing in significance while hers remained dull and spiritless. She thought of volunteering or getting a part-time job, but she wasn't sure what she would be good at and if she felt up to interacting with other people at the moment.
One night, she was sitting by the fire reading a book when she decided to have a party. She planned everything in her head - right down to her underwear. She decided she was going to feel alive and wanted for one night, if nothing else.
The next day she was very busy. She scrubbed the patio tiles, wanting them to look perfect. She hung tiny white lights among the trees in the garden. She knew they would look like stars when it became dark outside. She wanted to create her own world where nothing could touch her.
Next, she went shopping for food. She had not cooked for herself for a long time and was not accustomed to choosing what she liked. She spent the afternoon cooking some appetizers and cleaning the living room. Everything had to be perfect. She found an old case of champagne in the pantry, which was her favourite kind. There was no use in saving it for a special occasion; after all, there was no time like the present.
When it was time for Kirsty to get dressed, she had a long, hot, luxurious bubble bath. She almost fell asleep, but luckily, the phone rang and woke her up. She ignored the phone and got out of the tub.
Kirsty put on her favourite dress. It was the one she had worn on her first romantic evening at Thurston. She remembered how the rhinestones had glittered like the lights through the trees in the garden. It was no use trying to forget how wonderful that night had been. Why not celebrate the memory of it? The dress clung to her svelte figure and made her feel beautiful. She spent a long time brushing her hair and putting on her makeup. After she splashed on some perfume, she was ready to celebrate.
Kirsty felt like a queen as she descended the spiral staircase. Nothing was going to dampen her spirits tonight. She went over to the dining room and inspected the table, where she had placed all the appetizers. She poured herself a tall glass of ice-cold champagne.
Just before she toasted herself, Kirsty saw something that caught her eye. An idea formed in her mind as she realized that it was pretty ludicrous to toast oneself. She walked to the foyer and grabbed the coat rack. She carried it out onto the terrace, giggling to herself. She dressed it up in Derek's old clothes and it seemed life-like in the dark.
When Kirsty plugged in the white lights the effect was quite romantic. The garden was bathed in a filmy white light. Kirsty felt proud of herself as she picked up her champagne.
"Now," she said, as she walked out to the coat rack, "I will make a toast to you, the only guest who knows how much fun we're going to have." She swallowed the entire glass full of champagne in one quick motion. She knew it would rush straight to her head, but she did not care.
"You need a name," she said thoughtfully, staring at the coat rack.
"I'll call you George," she decided as she turned and walked back into the house.
Kirsty ate a few appetizers and she went over to her ipod station. She put on a playlist which had fast music and turned the volume up quite loud. She did not care if the neighbors could hear it. She wanted to be able to hear it when she was out on the terrace.
An hour later, Kirsty had polished off a bottle of champagne and ate most of the appetizers. She was having fun dancing with George. He was not a very good conversationalist, but she did not mind.
She was feeling so giddy that she forgot about the reasons why she had decided to have a party in the first place. For the moment, she was happy with George and her champagne. Kirsty worked up quite an appetite dancing so she decided to order out for pizza.
When the doorbell later rang, Kirsty lurched as she went to answer it. She smiled brightly as she confronted the delivery boy. He smiled at her, unsure of her sobriety. The music was quite loud.
"Thank God, it's finally here," Kirsty said, giggling. She grabbed the pizza and the weight of it almost caused her to lose her balance.
She handed the delivery boy a 50 dollar bill, too intoxicated to notice his look of mute surprise.
"Would you like to come in and have a drink?" Kirsty asked familiarly, not realizing he was younger than the legal drinking age.
"No thanks," the boy answered, backing away. "I have to get back to work. Thanks for the tip."
Kirsty saluted him with the pizza box. The box hit her in the forehead. She staggered back, almost losing her balance for the second time.
Before the boy got back into his car, Kirsty yelled, "I'm having such a good time!" She walked back into the living room and sank laboriously into one of the couches.
Kirsty gobbled several pieces of pizza before remembering to offer any to George. But he was not hungry.
"Such a shame," she muttered, taking another piece. "I guess I'll have to eat his share."
The pizza gave Kirsty renewed energy. She chose another playlist and cranked the volume way up. The music pounded in her ears.
She went out to the terrace and danced with George. She held onto the sleeves of his jacket and swung around. She soon lost herself in the music, dancing freely and seductively. The lightheaded feeling was so strong that it made her dizzy.
Kirsty stopped twirling around for a moment and stumbled along the path in the garden, admiring the lights in the trees. She grew cold after a while and went inside to pour herself another drink.
Kirsty later went back outside to the terrace. She waltzed George around, carrying her champagne with remarkable dexterity and never spilling a drop.
She was gulping the last drop out of her glass when the music suddenly stopped in mid-beat. Puzzled, she stumbled into the house. She squinted her eyes, not quite believing what she saw.
Derek stood over by the ipod, facing her with his hands on his hips. He was wearing a brown leather jacket and well-worn jeans that fit him like a glove. She could tell he was angry with her by the way his features were scowling. But she was outraged.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she yelled, waving her empty glass in the air.
Kirsty never gave Derek a chance to answer her question.
"Turn the music back on," she demanded, nodding toward the ipod. She did not care why Derek was there. She was too intent on pouring champagne into her glass without spilling any.
"You're drunk," Derek said, a gravelly edge to his voice. He stalked over to the dining table and wrenched the bottle and glass out of Kirsty's hands.
"Hey!" she yelled, reaching for them, but Derek jumped out of the way. She lunged toward him and miscalculated the distance. She tripped over a chair and hit the side of the table.
"You bastard!" she yelled, more angry at her clumsiness than his action. "Gimme back my shimpayne."
"Your shimpayne?" Derek said, stressing her pronunciation. He smiled for the first time.
Kirsty glared at him, realizing that he was enjoying her state of drunkenness.
"I didn't invite you to my party," she said, her hands on her hips. "Get the hell out!"
Derek still grinned at her. He made a pretense of looking around.
"This is a party?" he said mockingly. "I don't see anyone else here."
Kirsty resented him making fun of her.
"It just so happens, mister smartass, that I have a gennelman frien' here and he lets me drink all the...cham...pagne I want." Kirsty had to struggle to pronounce her words properly.
Derek looked at her in surprise. He had obviously misjudged her.
While Derek pondered Kirsty's last statement, she stumbled over to the ipod, kicking a few empty champagne bottles out of her way. She triumphantly turned the music back on. She whirled around and faced Derek. He was looking at her calculatingly. She did not know how beautiful she looked with her red cheeks and bright eyes.
Kirsty stalked past Derek, shoving him as she passed.
"Out of my way," she mumbled, shoving him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her tightly close to him.
"Where's this guy you're with?" he asked possessively.
"Why? Are you jealous?" she taunted. She was not afraid to look into his eyes. The alcohol had made her feel stronger than she had ever been while sober. She did not realize it, but Derek could still sense her fragility and the pain she was trying so hard to hide. If she had been sober, she would never have dared to look at him that way. She did not know how seductive she was. Derek would have kissed her if she had not pushed herself out of his grasp. She punched him lightly in the stomach. It surprised him more than hurt him.
Kirsty rushed out onto the terrace and grabbed George.
"What the hell is that?" Derek demanded, coming up behind her.
"Not what, who," she corrected. "This is George."
Derek stood looking at her with his mouth open. Then he started to laugh. He laughed so hard he doubled over.
Kirsty sighed and glared at him. How dare he laugh at George?
"Oooh...I hope you laugh so hard you choke!" Kirsty yelled, picking up the coat rack and stomping into the house. She went and placed the rack back where she had found it. Suddenly, it did not look like a George any more.
The effects of the alcohol were wearing off and Kirsty could feel her head start to pound. She went and turned off the music.
Derek was leaning against the patio door, still chuckling.
"Oh, Kirsty," he said, wiping a tear from his eye, "you are adorable."
"Shut up," she replied, mad because her giddy feeling was gone. "You ruined my party."
Derek suddenly sounded proprietary as he said, "It's time you stopped drinking, anyway. You are going to have one hell of a headache in the morning and I think you should go to bed and sleep it off."
"Who the hell do you think you are, coming in here and telling me what to do?" she demanded.
"You're not capable of thinking straight," he said matter-of-factly, coming toward her.
"Come on," he said taking her hand. "I'm taking you upstairs."
Kirsty pulled away from him, saying, "Oh no, you're not!"
Derek was too strong for her. She kept struggling until he finally picked her up in his arms and carried her upstairs. Kirsty swore at him and used words he never thought she would say. Instead of aggravating him, Kirsty only made him laugh and that made her angrier.
When they got to her bedroom, Derek threw her playfully on the bed.
"Hey!" she yelled, feeling a rush of nausea from such quick motions.
Kirsty tried to crawl away from him to the other side of the bed, but he grabbed her ankle.
"You're not getting away," Derek said in a teasing tone.
Kirsty kept struggling, but he only wrestled with her playfully while she was trying in earnest to get away.
Finally, Derek lay half on top of her and pinned her wrists above her head. Her face was red and she was panting with exertion. When Derek realized that Kirsty was too tired to fight him any longer, he let go of one of her wrists and softly caressed her cheek.
"If you weren't so drunk, I would take advantage of this situation," he whispered tenderly.
Kirsty blinked, still feeling angry.
"I hate you," she murmured gently in a tone which betrayed her true emotion.
"No, you don't," Derek replied, kissing her lips softly. She did not respond.
Derek sat up and pulled Kirsty into a sitting position.
"Help me get this dress off you and then you can crawl under the covers."
Kirsty complied obediently and sank into the bed, her head still spinning. Derek pulled the covers over her.
"I'll leave the bathroom light on," Derek said, kissing her on the cheek. "I have a feeling you will need it."
Derek was chuckling as he left the room, but Kirsty had already passed out and did not hear him.
******************************************************
True to Derek's prediction, Kirsty found herself embracing the toilet bowl several hours later. The only time the pain in her head subsided was after she finished vomiting.
She could not believe she had drunk so much champagne. She should have known better.
When Kirsty's stomach was completely empty, she crawled back into her bedroom and nestled under the covers again. She moaned, feeling sorry for herself now that her head was clear. She had made a complete fool of herself in front of Derek. But she would worry about that later. The first thing she had to do was recapture her equilibrium for the confrontation which she was sure was about to happen between Derek and herself.