Chapter Twelve
Eric's teammates took him out for a night of heavy drinking to mourn his impending loss of freedom, but he had a second bachelor's party two weeks later when he returned home to Odessa for part of the summer. It consisted of only three guests. His best friend Grady came, since he had also come home to Odessa for the summer, as did his cousins John Paul and Philip Andrew. They made a bonfire on a gravely inlet down by the creek, and Philip Andrew brought some beer he'd brewed in the bathtub, which he poured out in plastic cups.
"Your dad lets you get away with brewing beer at home?" Grady asked. "And you're, what – only 18?" Philip Andrew was graduating from high school in a week.
"He sees it as an expression of Philip Andrew's love for learning," John Paul said. "My brother's very scientific about it. He can also quote you every Bible verse that praises beer."
"Because that would be none," Philip Andrew said. "The Bible does have quite a bit to say in support of wine, though."
"It's not bad," Grady said, "for bathtub beer. But don't you have like nine people in that house?"
"Six," Philip Andrew said. "Three of my brothers – including John Paul here - have moved on. Don't worry, though, it's all very sanitary."
"And when we run out of beer," John Paul said, "I've brought this." He reached into his backpack and pulled out a jar of moonshine.
"Damn," Eric said. "I haven't touched that stuff since grandma's funeral." John Paul had smuggled a jar of moonshine to the wake at the Taylors' house. The boys had been fifteen at the time, and they had both loved their grandmother, a warm and witty woman. The two cousins had gone outside into the woods and hiked through the fallen leaves to a ravine and toasted the old woman – several times.
Uncle Andrew had found them two hours later, vomiting into the creek. "Let me get you cleaned up, boys," he'd said. "And sobered up before your father sees you, Eric." He'd taken them in his car back to his own house. Eric didn't remember much after that, except that he'd woken up the next morning on a sleeping bag on the floor of the bedroom John Paul shared with Philip Andrew, his head screaming. Eric's uncle had drawn him aside that morning and had a good, long talk with him about drinking responsibly and never burying his grief in alcohol.
"That is the devil's liquor," Philip Andrew said.
John Paul laughed. "Oh, you're too pure, Philip."
"Nah. But that moonshine just shows you what evil is. Nothing but a perversion of good. Why have the perverted good when you can have the real good?" He raised his cup of beer.
"Because sometimes you run out of the real good," John Paul said. "Besides, Eric's getting married tomorrow. We've got to celebrate that somehow."
"By making sure he looks terrible at his own wedding?" Philip Andrew asked.
John Paul shook his head, unscrewed the cap to his moonshine, and took a swig. "Oh, Christ," he said. "That's god awful." He put the cap back on and set it down on the ground. "When are the strippers coming? Are they going to burst through the woods?"
"Tami would have my head on a platter if I had strippers," Eric muttered.
"Yeah," Grady said, "me and the other guys on the team tried to drag him to a strip club for his other party a couple of weeks ago, but he dug in his heels." Grady made a cracking sound and flicked his wrist like a whip.
John Paul smirked. "Well, who needs strippers when your wife has a body like Tami's?" He cupped his hands in front of his chest in the shape of breasts.
"Hey!" Eric raised his beer cup and pointed it at him. Then he took his finger and drew a line in the dirt. "That's the line," he said. "Don't cross it."
"I wouldn't dare, cuz. But you've got to allow me to brush up against it every now and then. It's just my nature, you know. As a man among men."
Eric laughed. "This beer really is pretty good."
[*]
Tami's bachelorette party was equally tame. She went out to and early dinner with her sister Shelley, Angie, and her old high school friend Cindy. Tami and Angie had become fast friends over the spring semester. In April, they'd gone hunting for a two-bedroom apartment together, reporting back to the boys when they had narrowed it down to their top three choices. Grady and Angie would get the master bedroom and bathroom, while Eric and Tami would get the guest bedroom and second hall bath, since they would be paying a lower rent.
After dinner, they went back to Cindy's house – since her parents were out of town for the evening - and did each other's nails on the living room coffee table.
"I so have to pee," Shelley said and got up from the table.
"She's going to ruin her nails," Cindy murmured.
"My sister's giving me such a hard time about the maid of honor thing again," Tami said when Shelley was gone.
"Just demote me," Angie insisted. "I'll just be a bridesmaid. It's not worth the headache."
"Are you sure?"
"Tami, this is your day, girl. I'm not going to let your little sister ruin it with whining. t, blood is thicker than water."
After the nails, they watched Better Off Dead on VHS. They split two bottles of white wine while they watched the movie, laughing so hard they could barely breathe. Shelley was the only one who wasn't laughing. She was grumpy because Tami wouldn't allow her more than half a glass of wine.
"Doesn't Lane look kind of like Eric?" Shelley asked.
"What?" Tami asked.
"John Cusak," Shelley said. "He looks like Eric."
"Maybe a little," Angie said, tilting her head. "In profile."
"No he doesn't," Tami insisted. "Besides, Eric is much better looking."
"Can I have more wine?" Shelley asked for the third time.
"Absolutely not," Tami insisted. "You're fifteen."
"You told me Eric's uncle let all his kids drink it at Thanksgiving."
"First of all, I'm not your parent. Second of all, Philip Andrew was the youngest one he let drink, and he was seventeen then." Tami knew it was legal to drink with your parents, but she'd still been surprised. Her mother would have a fit if she knew Tami had been drinking alcohol at the age of seventeen, and there Philip Andrew was, asking his father, ever so politely, "May I have another?" and his father replying, "In an hour. You've had enough for now."
"I want my two sips of wine!" Angie cried. "Give me my two sips of wine!"
Everyone but Shelley laughed. "What?" she asked. "Is that supposed to be a play on the two dollars line in the movie?"
"Obviously," Cindy said.
"Why doesn't Lane just give the paperboy his money?" Shelley asked. "Is he as tight as Eric too?"
"He looks nothing like Eric!" Tami insisted.
"You gotta admit," Cindy said, "he kind of does just a little bit."
"Eric is way sexier," Tami insisted, "Especially when he's rescuing kittens."
Angie laughed. "This is good wine."
"So, speaking of guys," Shelley said, "I met Mom's beaux. She took me to Dallas for spring break just so she could spend time with him."
Tami had spent her spring break in Houston, apartment shopping with Angie and signing a lease and taking a two-day trip to the beach at Galveston.
Tami whirled on her. Why was Shelley only telling her this now. "Really? What's he like?"
"His name is Antonio," Shelley said, rolling every syllable. "He's Italian."
"No shit?" Angie said. "I'd have guessed Scottish."
"You told me that already," Tami said. "What's he like?"
"He's kind of short. Like, 5'8"."
"That's not that short," Angie said. "Grady's only 5'10"."
"He's got gray-black hair," Shelley continued, "and he's, I don't know, a little handsome I guess. Mom thinks so anyway. I think he's kind of…eh."
"But what's he like?" Tami insisted.
"I don't know. He's totally polite but he doesn't talk much. He pulls out her chair and opens doors for her and holds her coat and weird stuff like that. He's not a gambler or a heavy drinker like Dad," Shelley said. "He has a steady job. He seems to like Mom." She paused. "And he's never tried to molest me, so there's that."
"Good Lord, Shelley," Tami muttered.
"Well, that's what you really wanted to know, isn't it?"
Tami refilled her wine glass. "Maybe," she admitted. "Is it serious? Is he coming to my wedding?"
"He's in El Paso on business for the next two weeks, so I doubt it."
Tami let Shelley drive them home, even though she only had her learner's permit, because Tami was buzzed. They snuck into the house, glad their mother was already sleeping. Tami waited until Shelley had gone to bed to call Eric from the kitchen phone and have drunken phone sex with him. He'd apparently had more to drink than her, because halfway through what she imagined to be a very sexy monologue on her part, he started to snore. She shook her head, hung up, and went to bed.
