Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes Page 26

His face was inches from mine, his eyes full of mischief, but they quickly clouded over and turned dark and serious. He sat up, looking stiff and uncomfortable. “I’m gonna go get us somethin’ to eat. You wait here and don’t drink anything else.”

“But there’s another beer in there!” I protested in earnest.

He grabbed the bottle and stood up.

“That’s mine! Give that back!”

“I will, after you eat something. Since you’re new to drinkin’ I'll teach you all about it.”

That got my attention. “You will?”

“Yeah, when I get back. Just wait right there.”

I watched my last bottle of beer leave with him. My hands settled in my lap and the receipt poked my palm. I unfolded the strip, smoothing it out. How long ago had I written my list? It felt like a lifetime.

I started reading, surprised at the number of items I could already mark off. I’d been more wicked than I thought. I’d completed three of them: numbers one, ten and eighteen—get a cell phone, drink a beer and wear high heels. Three items of twenty eight. I still had a ways to go, but those were three things I’d never done in twenty-four years. I’d made pretty good progress.

“What are you lookin’ at?”

My head jerked up at the sound of Joe’s voice. “Huh?”

“What’s that?”

I loved beer. Normally, I would have been shy and hid my list, but beer gave me confidence I'd never had before. “It’s my Wish List.”

Joe handed me a bottle of water and a paper plate with a sandwich and some chips. He sat down with his own plate and water.

“Where’s my beer?” I asked, panicked that he might have lost it.

He laughed. “Don’t worry, I put it in your fridge. Rule number one of drinkin’: Beer is better cold.”

I picked up the sandwich and took a bite. “Oh…”

Joe leaned over toward me. “That one is very important.”

I nodded, seeing the seriousness of it. “What else?”

“Beer before liquor, you’ll never be sicker.”

I scrunched my nose. “What does that mean?”

“It means don't drink beer and move onto harder stuff; you’ll get a pretty nasty hangover.”

“Okay.” I took another bite of my turkey sandwich. “Why did you bring me a sandwich? Why’re you being so nice to me?”

He shrugged and grinned. “You gave me a beer, I repaid you with a sandwich. Good trade. Besides, that brings me to the next rule: don't drink on an empty stomach. Bad idea.”

“Wow, I had no idea drinkin’ had so many rules.”

“You have no idea. Next rule: drink plenty of water so you don’t get dehydrated.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, take another drink. It will keep you from gettin’ a headache tomorrow.”

“I’m gonna get a headache?”

“If you drink too much and don’t eat or drink water. We’re gonna try to stop that from happenin’.”

I took another sip.

Joe finished his sandwich and set his plate on the floor. “So what’s on your list?”

“Wishes.”

“Wishes? What kind of wishes?

I handed him the list.

He took it and raised his eyebrows. “A Wal-Mart receipt?”

I shrugged and nibbled on a chip. “I didn’t have any paper.”

“Number one, get a cell phone. Two, commit all seven deadly sins in one week.” He jerked his head up, smiling. “What is this?”

The fuzzy feeling in my head was going away and I didn’t want it to. “Can I have my beer now?”

Joe gave me a weird look as he went in the front door with the receipt still in his hand. He must have run because it felt like he’d just gone in when he came back, handing me an open bottle. He had one too.

“So about this list…”

I took a drink. Joe was right; beer was better cold. “I told ya already, it’s my Wish List. It’s all the things I wanna do.”

“Looks like you took care of number ten tonight, drink beer.”

“Yeah, lucky for me Uncle Earl left it behind.” I giggled.

Joe continued reading. “Number fourteen, kiss a man.” He looked up. “Rose, are you tellin’ me you’ve never done anythin’ on this list?” He sounded like he’d just been told there was no Santa Claus after believing his whole life.

“Oh, no…”

“Good, I didn’t see how…”

“I hadn’t done any of those things before last week. I’ve done three of them now.” I held up three fingers to show him. “I bought a cell phone. I wore heels to Momma’s funeral and I didn’t fall over. And tonight I’m drinking beer.” I lowered a finger as I ticked off the items, leaving my middle finger for the last. A second later I realized what I did and broke out into a fit of laughter.

When I stopped, Joe stared at me, his face very serious. “Rose, why did you write this list?”

I took another drink of my beer. “Cause I was tired of not livin’, you know?”

“No, what do you mean?”

I sighed for all I was worth. “I wanted to live my life instead of havin’ my momma tellin’ me what I could and couldn’t do and tellin’ me how evil I was.”

Joe took a drink of his beer, quiet for a moment. “Rose, when did you write this list? Number four is Get my own place.”

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