I hope you enjoy the Footloose mention!
Lucky rolled his eyes as his father's voice filled his ears. "I know Dad. You've been telling me that since I was seven. Don't touch the private stash in your office. Got it." With an aggravated sigh he flipped his cell phone shut. Ever since Lucky had asked his father about using his club for Elizabeth's birthday surprise, Luke had called every day with a new concern and demand. Some had been down right ridiculous, like the one about no boy bands.
"I didn't think it was possible for him to get weirder when he got older but I swear to God he is."
"Wait until he finds out you're putting a boy band in his club without telling him." Patrick mused, slightly amused. "Why don't you just turn the phone to silent?"
Lucky shrugged. "He'd find some way to get around it. When he figured out I was screening his calls, he started calling from Mom's phone."
"Maybe this is his subtle way of thanking you for taking over parenting responsibilities for Leslie Lu." Cruz suggested with a sly grin.
"Don't even start with me about her." Lucky groaned. In the days that passed since she had been grounded, she only got angrier. And now he was almost positive it wasn't directed at him. He'd given up the grounding two days ago and she still was storming through the house. "She keeps muttering about the evilness of men. Cameron is terrified to come near her."
Patrick chuckled. "Pretty soon, she'll be asking you to braid her hair and screen her calls so Dipshit can't get a hold of her. I wouldn't want to be you right now."
Lucky flipped his cousin off. "Let's get this done. I have plans for tonight."
"If you add anymore candles, the whole building is going to go up in flames." Cruz warned him distractedly. He might have been here physically, but mentally and emotionally he was still in Bobbie's yard, throwing the custody papers in front of her face.
"I don't know. I think Mom and Bobbie would pay me if that naked picture of Helena got burned." Lucky pointed out. "Maybe I'll just put some more over there."
"Look what I found." Patrick held up a dusty bottle of 1960 Cognac. "And you said I was too curious for my own good."
"I hope you're a better bartender than you are set builder." Lucky started toward the bar. "Pour it."
Patrick smiled, hopping over the bar. "If you'll remember, I bartended my way through college."
"Yeah I remember." Cruz nodded. "You were broke."
"Got to check out the competition. Drunk guys would hit on the girls and I'd learn everything I shouldn't say to them. It was a great learning experience. Especially when they started slipping me their numbers." Patrick recalled, setting three tall glasses in front of him and pouring each about halfway full.
Lucky took a small sip. Smooth, just the way he liked it. "Must every conversation with you involve a discussion of how you pick up women?"
"Anything beats your 'Elizabeth this, Elizabeth that' stories." Patrick bit back a smile, his words hitting their target. Deciding it was time to take a risk he threw his drink down his throat and winced as it burned all the way down. Well that'd teach him. He poured another and took a baby sip. Much better.
Lucky narrowed his eyes and took another sip. "Anyone try to run away from you on a boat lately?"
"Did you guys hear about Stephen Valiquette? A goalie with a concussion and he was still trying to get on the ice. That there is dedication." Cruz hadn't kept up with the Rangers in months, other things having got in the way, like the nights he would fall asleep with Bobbie in his arms. Last night was the first he had been able to watch a Rangers' game since at least May. He wasn't sure if that made him lucky or just plain pathetic.
Lucky shook his head. "The Rangers? I thought you were at that party thing for Georgie?" He didn't want to say the obvious, but he knew Bobbie had been invited. He had assumed Cruz would be going with her.
Cruz's answer was simply to throw back a shot, mimicking Patrick and instantly regretting it.
"Pansies." Lucky threw back the remainder of his own with ease. Slamming the glass down on the table, he looked between the bottle, the empty glass, and Patrick. "Make yourself useful."
He had noticed both his friends had side-stepped his questions. He knew from his conversation with Robin and bits gleaned while Elizabeth talked on the phone, everything still wasn't right there. But what was going on with Cruz and Bobbie? And did he really want to know the answer?
Patrick filled his and Lucky's glass, lifting his eyebrow at Cruz who was nursing his drink. He hadn't gotten a chance to hang out with Lucky or Cruz in so long; he had forgotten what it was like to have free time. Frankly, he didn't much care for it.
Picking up the glass, Lucky paused halfway to his lips. "Does this feel like the time we broke in here freshman year?"
"Cruz isn't wearing Susan Giamatti's panties on his head and you don't have your nose in a book. Or wait. Did I get that backwards?" Patrick tried to remember, but decided it was time for another shot instead.
Lucky glanced over at Cruz, still silent and still nursing his first shot. "You still with us man?"
"What? Yeah, sure. I disagree." Cruz answered noncommittally.
"You don't have a clue what he just said do you?" Lucky accused.
"Not really." Cruz admitted sheepishly. "Have anything stronger?" He asked, glancing over at Patrick.
Lucky smiled. "I'll get the private stash."
Three bottles of cognac and two bottles of vodka later, and any pretense of actually working was gone. At this point, it would probably be more dangerous if they were trying to work. Lucky stumbled to his feet and tried to steady himself on the bar. "When did the room start spinning?"
"When you started walking. Take a load off." Cruz suggested.
Patrick caught Lucky's confused stare. "Where are you?"
"Here." Cruz answered, kicking out a chair. "Under the table."
"I am sitting right? I thought I was sitting." Lucky muttered. He tried to lift himself onto a stool, giving up after two failed attempts to actually manage sitting on it. "I'll just stand."
"You know what I don't understand?" Patrick asked, peeking into a clear shot glass. He was surrounded by them, from head to toe, none of them holding a drop of alcohol anymore.
"Women?" Lucky and Cruz answered in unison.
Patrick laughed harshly. "Who do I look like? I've never claimed to understand them...for long periods of time. I don't understand what people mean when they talk about never seeing the bottom of a glass. Look. I can see the bottom. It's not a scientific discovery."
"A glass shouldn't be empty." Lucky pointed out. "There should always be something in it."
"Well there's no more 'private stash' so what does that leave us with?" Patrick shot back, very little fight in his voice. He couldn't even sit up without his vision swimming. The bar wasn't so uncomfortable.
"Oh my God, shut up!" Cruz grumbled from underneath the table. "Just shut up."
"What's your problem? You've been a mope all night." Lucky shot back, trying to find his friend under the table.
"Piss off." Cruz retorted, cursing when his head collided with one of the chairs.
"See? Serves you right!" Lucky retorted. "No help for you."
"He's not dead is he? I'm not carrying his heavy ass if he's dead." Patrick declared forcefully, rolling the glass in-between his fingers.
"Nope. Just being a pain in the ass." Lucky slid down to sit on the floor of the bar. There, he decided. That was much better.
"Why can't women just be straight with you? They accuse us of playing games, but it's them." Cruz whined, using a nearby chair to get halfway to his feet. It was all he could manage.
"Because they hold all the power?" Lucky wondered.
"She's got you trained well Sparky." Patrick teased, reaching for what looked to be a full bottle, but it was just beyond his reach.
"I'm still talking to my girlfriend." Lucky pointed out.
"Cruz brings up a good point. Hold on. Let me remember what it was." Patrick thought for a minute. "Oh yes. Women and their games. It's not that they hold all the power. It's simply that they've made up new rules. You say 'commitment,' they say 'Prove it.' You say 'I love you,' they say 'Keep that to yourself.'"
"Exactly." Cruz agreed with a slow nod of his head. "You get it."
"Is that the sound of trouble in paradise I hear?" Lucky wondered.
"Is that the sound of eternal knowledge?" Cruz snapped grouchily.
"It's the sound of someone who's getting some." Lucky responded calmly. "Don't hate the player. Hate the game."
"What has the world come to when he's having more sex than either of us?" Patrick inquired in a shrill, terrified voice.
"It's enough to make you not want to leave the house." Cruz added, rubbing a hand down his face wearily.
"I think I should offended by that." Lucky looked up thoughtfully. "But somehow I'm not."
"You'll both be very happy to know that your wish has come true." Cruz informed them vaguely.
"Sponge Bob was cancelled?" Lucky asked hopefully.
"Can I buy a vowel?" Patrick asked, confused.
"I'm not dating your aunt anymore." Cruz explained solemnly.
Lucky looked between where Patrick lay and Cruz sat. "I didn't think I was drunk enough to hear things."
"Tough. The nearest alcohol is a mile away." Patrick muttered. "And what do you mean you're not dating Bobbie anymore?"
"We broke up." Cruz told them.
"Why?" Lucky asked simply.
"She doesn't want to marry me. We've agreed on joint custody or at least visitation. It's a little confusing." He clarified.
"Wait, marry you?" Lucky shook his head confused. "Did you ask?"
"Yep." Cruz punched the top of the table. "Damn that hurt."
"Please speak English. I'd swear you started mumbling in Spanish somewhere back there." Patrick pleaded.
"What? No 'I told you so's'?" Cruz inquired defensively.
"Why would we be rooting for you and Bobbie to not work out?" Patrick challenged, watching Cruz out of the corner of his eye.
"We aren't completely immature you know." Lucky chimed in.
They all laughed at Lucky's comment and then sobered, so to speak.
"It's been a few days. I don't think she's going to call." Cruz whispered.
"Have you called her?" Lucky offered.
"I've dialed the number at least a hundred times since it happened." Cruz admitted.
"Don't show up unannounced. They hate that." Patrick counseled his friend wisely.
"Yeah and if she locks herself in the bedroom, don't pick the lock." Lucky added, nodding his head.
"I don't know what to do. Every time I try to talk to her, she starts crying. It's terrible. I don't even have to yell. The slightest anything." Cruz sighed, stumbling over to the bar.
"Hormones." Lucky suggested. "Jess was crazy while she was pregnant with Cam. It's all hormones for nine months."
"How do you get around hormones?" Cruz wanted to know.
"Don't get them pregnant?" Patrick offered.
Lucky nodded in agreement. "I think that's it."
"Big help guys. I'm the youngest in this group. Where's the wisdom?"
"I'd say we left it in that last bottle of Cognac." Patrick assumed, making a sad face by sticking out his bottom lip. He studied it awhile before gnawing on the tender bit of flesh.
"I'm too drunk for wisdom." Lucky complained. "Care to settle for mildly helpful?"
"Sure. Why not?" Cruz shrugged in resignation.
"I'm only asking this because I probably won't remember it tomorrow." Lucky started with a sigh. "Do you love her?"
"'Course I do." Cruz replied with conviction.
"Then what are you doing telling us? Tell her." Lucky advised. "Talking to other people is bad."
"You'd know all about that, huh Lucky?" Patrick chuckled lightly.
"What are you picking on him for? At least we give a damn about our girlfriends. When was the last time you talked to yours?" Cruz retorted impatiently.
"When they decided to entertain Georgie's goodbye party." Lucky offered.
"Thanks." Patrick groaned, resting his hands over his eyes. "I had almost forgotten."
"I try." Lucky shrugged.
"How did Bobbie look?" Cruz wondered.
Patrick couldn't remember paying that much attention to his aunt. His agenda had been Robin. However, his friend needed some encouragement. Besides, he hadn't seen his aunt as happy with anyone else and that included the years she had spent with Tony. "She looked really sad. She put up a nice front though." Patrick figured it was probably true. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but his friend and aunt were a perfect match. Yep, he could feel the lightening of his wallet already. As if he wasn't paying enough for therapy.
"Think we can get me to a cab? I need to sober up. I hope Bobbie didn't plan on sleeping tonight." Though he had meant it differently than it had come up, both cousins made a face of absolute disgust. "Grow up."