Maxie had shown up at his hotel room door shortly after he'd gotten off the phone with Andy. He'd hid the duck in his bed; otherwise, she'd make sure he never heard the end of it. "C'mon, old man, you didn't think you'd get out of coming out with us two nights in a row, did you?" She paused. "Did I wake you?"
He smiled and shook his head. "No, I was just talking to Andy."
Maxie stood in the doorway while he grabbed his jacket and room key. Putting her hands behind her on the doorframe, smirking, she casually said, "I still want to meet her. I need to size up the competition."
"You're too young for me," he said as they stepped into the hallway.
She smiled up at him. "Just because you've got 17 years on me doesn't mean anything. Yeah, I read your file before you ask."
Hours later, the two of them, along with Sergeant Amaral and even Captain Sullivan sat in a packed bar on Newbury Street. Bobby had been surprised to see Captain Sullivan, but outside of work, the guy actually seemed to have a soul. The bar was alive, pulsing with positive energy. The entire city of Boston was celebrating tonight, in bars, in homes, in the streets even. Afterall, the Red Sox had won the ALCS in an historic game. Bobby wasn't as well versed in Sox history as he'd liked to be, but that didn't matter. The energy was infectious. It was impossible to not be happy. Unless of course you were a Cleveland fan.
Maxie had bought the first three rounds of drinks, insisting on Guinness for everyone. At first, he'd been extremely apprehensive about drinking, not sure what to say to get out of it, wondering what Andy would think if he didn't get out of it. But it hadn't taken long for the jovial attitude of everyone in the room to rub off on him. He had every reason to be happy, even if his phone call with Andy had left him feeling a little unsettled.
Four beers down, he felt better than when he started. There had been a lot of bonding over the course of those four drinks. Sgt. Amaral was proving to be more and more of a father figure. Turns out he has four kids and a grandbaby on the way. The man loves Titleist golf balls, and of course, the Red Sox. He had words of advice about everything, from raising kids to keeping wives happy.
The silent animosity between Bobby and Capt. Sullivan was quickly fading, too. Tonight was a chance to clear the air and start fresh. Tomorrow, each man would have a new respect for the other, understanding each other better.
And then there was Maxie. The longer the party went on, the more she reminded Bobby of Andy. But in a way, she reminded him of Ada, too. She had meandered her way to the back corner of the room and had started singing 'Tessie'as she worked her way from the corner back to the small group of drunken cops. She was getting everyone to join in her song, waving her arms around to get people to sing louder. Bobby couldn't help but smile as he watched her weave through the sea of Sox t-shirts. Maxie laughed, wrinkling her nose and for a second, he thought she was Andy. It made him miss her even more, wishing she were here. Of course, she wouldn't appreciate this as much, but still, it'd be nice to have here beside him.
Looking around, listening to an entire bar sing a song he'd never heard before, he grinned stupidly. He was glad he came out tonight; glad he'd made the decision to help out the CPD. It had been... a very long time since he'd been able to go out with friend and actually be able to relax. He didn't have to worry about the stigma of being an alcoholic he faced each time he went out with Andy to bar night. Here, no one knew, no one would know. He was drunk, but he was so happy. He wished Andy could see it. He wasn't drowning his problems; he wasn't trying to find emotional numbness.
He felt alive.