Chapter 3
Barry and Lindsay stared at each other nervously for a minute before Barry finally broke the silence.
Taking a hand out of one of his pockets, he gestured back towards the bar. "I'm going to go grab that drink that I guess I forgot about," he said, smiling at her. Somehow they had managed to step off to the side and Barry had lost his place in line. He added, "Can I get you another of what you're having? Or anything else?"
Lindsay glanced down at her own drink. Since drinking was something she often did because she wanted to relax, the exciting-yet-tense introduction to Barry had prompted her to try and accelerate the process. Her glass was half-empty, and the alcohol had already begun to work its way into Lindsay's system. She was slowly starting to loosen up, and could feel the flush of heat that always accompanied her drinking begin to expand from her face to her chest. Though a lot of that was circumstantial- Lindsay hoped that she might be kissing Barry later on tonight, and just the thought of it was probably making her body feel a degree or two hotter than normal.
To that end, Lindsay realized that she should probably lay off the booze. If she drank too much too fast, she'd be a wreck by the end of the night. She definitely didn't want to let alcohol intoxication spoil anything between her and Barry.
"Maybe in a minute," she smiled. "I think I'd like to get something to eat first."
"Good idea," he agreed. "Give me a second and I'll join you." He hopped back in line to get a drink while Lindsay waited. He returned to her side a minute later holding a bottle of domestic beer.
"Let's head over there," he winked at her and gestured towards a corner of the living room near the kitchen. "It's the best spot to catch the wait staff." The Schweiber party had grown in size every year, so accordingly this year they had actually hired a caterer. Lindsay had spotted two waitresses balancing delicious-looking hors d'oeuvres on their trays as they brought the food in and out the kitchen, presumably where Barry was pointing. Barry grabbed her hand, and Lindsay's entire body tingled with excitement at the contact.
When they reached the spot of the living room, Barry gently let go of her hand, and Lindsay felt a twinge of disappointment. But it was quickly replaced with hunger as Lindsay realized that Barry was precisely right- delectable appetizers were already making their way towards them.
Lindsay and Barry each accepted several hors d'oeuvres, with Barry making several wisecracks about their close proximity to the food-service, and for a while he and Lindsay laughed and ate and drank and made small talk. Fifteen minutes later, she'd devoured half-a-dozen pigs in blankets, several bacon-wrapped scallops, and a ton of veggies and cheese cubes. Barry indulged, too- when Lindsay looked at him questioningly for consuming pork, he just shrugged.
Just then, apparently Barry saw someone he wanted to hide from and quickly grabbed Lindsay by the arms, pulling her closer and spinning them both around until they were each facing the opposite direction. Barry's warm touch on her arms and close proximity of his body to hers was almost too much for Lindsay to handle; the encounter and the alcohol and now the contact had really started jacking up Lindsay's libido. Thankfully, Barry interrupted Lindsay's rapidly wandering mind.
"Thanks for letting me do that; I think that's Melvin Latz over there behind my right shoulder," Barry explained with a smile. "I'm trying to use you as a shield; I'll bet you if he sees me he'll come over and ask me about which subspecialty of law I'd like to practice. I'm just not in the mindset to discuss it with him tonight. I might snap again."
Lindsay looked at him with a raised eyebrow. She didn't even have to say it.
"Oh, so now you want to know which subspecialty of the law I'd like to practice?" he asked her teasingly.
"No, not if you're going to snap again," she replied, smiling. This is all too reminiscent of the last Schweiber party, Lindsay thought fondly. I wonder if it will end the same way, too.
"Actually," Barry said, and his smile quickly turned neutral while his eyes went a bit overcast, "I'm thinking about becoming a divorce lawyer."
That sobered Lindsay up a bit. "That sounds a little depressing. Why?" she asked, him, though part of her already suspected at least a hint of the answer.
Barry shrugged and lowered his voice. "I don't know. My ex's parents got divorced a while back. The girl we talked about the last time I saw you, Janet? We broke up over a year ago. But being with her while she was going through it got me thinking about it a lot."
Lindsay nodded and tried to look sympathetic, murmuring her apologies about his breakup. She wasn't sure that she was convincing- truth be told, she was thrilled that Barry was single again.
Barry continued. "But mostly because of my parents, I guess. I would have thought they'd divorced by now, now that Neal's finally out of the house. Anyway, sometimes I just- and a few years ago I would never have said this- but now sometimes I just think it would have been easier on everyone if they had just gotten divorced. All the crap that my dad has done has really taken its toll on my mom in the last couple of years. And hearing the law perspective on it really got me looking back and thinking how it might have made things a lot easier on Neal and me, too. I came to the realization that it would make me feel better if I could help other kids so that they wouldn't have to see the all the crappy stuff their parents do to each other when they're out of love but still living under the same roof. Maybe there are worse things than your parents being divorced."
Lindsay nodded. She was glad that Barry felt like he could open up to her, though his confession had changed the mood of the evening substantially. "Barry, I'm so sorry," she said gently touching his shoulder with her hand.
He brightened at her touch. "It's okay," he replied. "Neal had it way worse than me, I think- I was older when I found out, and I've been out of the house for a while now. But anyway," he lightened his tone in an attempt to lighten the subject matter too, "How about you? How's school going? Do you know what you're going to do next year?"
Lindsay thought about those questions for a moment. They all seemed innocent enough- but a lot had changed this week. The truth was that she now had no idea.
Quite honestly, the whole time that she had dated Michael, she had never really known if he was the one. But Michael certainly seemed to think that he was. He talked about their future often, of his intention to work as a journalist and his willingness to move wherever Lindsay got a job. She had initially thought she wanted to go to graduate school, but she'd dragged her feet during the application process so she'd missed all of the prime interviews. That was okay, she had rationalized to herself- her grades were excellent, and she wouldn't mind getting some real-world experience before going back to school- which she felt confident that she would do down the road. She began scoping out jobs. While she might not have been willing to move for Michael, if he was willing to follow her, she figured she could at least apply to some interesting job prospects in the northeast. It was where a lot of the opportunity was, but in addition Michael was from New York City and would have loved to move home- so up to this point Lindsay had primarily focused her job search in New York and its surrounding areas. Now that all this had happened, though- she supposed she needed to look somewhere else, start over. And the thought of that was both depressing and overwhelming.
"Lindsay?" Barry asked her gently. Clearly she had zoned out and he was attempting to bring her back to Earth.
"Oh- I'm sorry," she muttered, suddenly fraught with sadness. She couldn't think of anything to say but the truth. "I- um- I have no idea." But she faked a smile anyway.
Barry saw right through it. "Lindsay, what's wrong?" Barry asked her softly, perceptive as always. He slowly reached his hand up to gently touch her jaw line. That was all it took for Lindsay's façade to come crumbling down. Involuntarily, her eyes welled up with tears and she broke down crying for what felt like the millionth time lately.
"Barry, I'm so sorry," she blubbered, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. "It's just- I mean- Michael cheated on me, this- this week with m-my roommate- and I broke up with him and that's why I'm, I'm- home, and-"
"Sssshhhh, ssshhhhh," Barry told her gently, a pained expression apparent on his face. He suddenly took Lindsay into his arms, engulfing her in a friendly hug. "Don't be sorry. Cry all that you want. I'm planning to change my shirt soon anyway," he teased her gently, referring to the fact that she was slobbering and snotting all over it. In response, Lindsay only cried harder.
"Sssssh, sssshhhhhh, I'm sorry, that was a bad joke," he apologized, arms running up and down the length of her back. "I'm so sorry that this happened to you. You don't deserve it," he told her fiercely, changing tone. After a few more seconds, he pulled away slightly, and Lindsay could see that his face had darkened. It was pretty obvious how angry he was. Seething, he added, "That guy is obviously a complete jerk. And if I saw him right now…." Barry let the start of his threat linger in the air for a few moments. "Anyway," he said seconds later, softening his voice and pulling her close to him again, "You deserve so much better."
Like you, Lindsay thought involuntarily. Being held against him like this felt so good. And the delicious smell of his aftershave was more potent than ever. For some crazy reason even though she had just been talking about Michael all she wanted to do was kiss Barry at the base of his neck which was a mere millimeter or two away from her lips. It took every ounce of self-control she had not to.
They held each other for a long time, until Lindsay's sobbing had turned into heavy breathing and then finally into a peaceful silence. Barry gently stroked the base of her hair, and even though the touch of his fingertips to her scalp was supposed to be soothing, somehow Lindsay found herself far more turned on than the situation had intended. Embarrassed, she pulled away.
"I'm getting tired of being miserable right now, but I'll be okay. Thanks," she said ruefully, giving him a little smile, dabbing at her eyes. "I appreciate it."
"Whatever you need, Lindsay," he replied sincerely. "Anytime."
Pulling herself together, Lindsay straightened her sweater and carefully wiped at the tears that had begun to dry on her cheeks. Her eye makeup was probably a mess right now. She needed to get to a bathroom. Noticing that Barry's beer bottle was empty, she asked him if he was heading back to the bar.
"Yep, I think after the last few minutes, another alcoholic beverage is in order," he replied, managing a grin. "How about you?"
"Oh, yeah," she said decisively. "I'll take another cranberry and vodka with a lime if you're offering."
"Sure thing," he said. A few minutes later when she had returned from the restroom (her makeup situation wasn't nearly as dire as she predicted, so it didn't take long to fix herself up), Barry stood in the same spot where she had left him, holding in one hand another beer for himself and in the other her signature girly drink.
"All right, Weir, while I'll always be a shoulder for you to cry on," he began matter-of-factly, offering her the glass, "I'd say the goal for the rest of this evening, for both of us, should be to have a little fun. Whaddya think?"
"Definitely," she agreed, accepting the beverage.
"To having fun tonight?" he asked, raising his drink to hers.
Lindsay couldn't agree more. "To having fun tonight," she echoed. She wondered what Barry's idea of fun was. The thought of what constituted her idea of 'fun' made her blush a little. They clinked glasses and she took a hearty sip of her drink.
