Free December Rain by A. L. Goulden Page A

but his eyes are on Monica.
     
    Tristan: When r u coming? They r already wild! Note Jack’s
    stare.
    Antonio:Oh no. On my way in thirty ish :)
     
    Other people start joining in the dance, which before long kills their private party. Robin can’t drink a martini while dancing so she hits the barstool as well, pulling Rianne along with her. She hoped Monica would link on, but she stays on the dance floor.
    “We give her “Little Red Corvette” then she’s taking five.”
    Ri laughs at Robin. “You know you’d be a great mom.”
    “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding? That’s not gonna happen.”
    “No? Not even with the right man?”
    “It would take one hell of a man to deal with me and a kid.”
    They start looking at the photos on Tristan’s phone. Ri sees Jack drooling over Monica immediately and looks around for him just as he takes a seat at the other end of the bar alone.
    “Johnnie Walker Black, neat.” Jack’s eyes focus on his gnarled thumbnail as his nostrils flare.
    Rianne’s face falls pale as she walks over to him and takes a seat. “You’re having a drink?”
    “Yep.” His eyes avoid her judgment as the bartender sets the glass on the black napkin. Jack just sits and stares at it.
    She notes a Rolling Stones song playing now and drifts her focus back towards Monica who’s tossing another drink down with fervor. Ri’s stuck in a familiar place. Robin shakes her head in surrender and gives a warm smile that makes leaving Jack’s side a little easier. She walks over and sandwiches herself between Robin and Tristan.
    “This is not what I really had in mind you know?” Robin says.
    “I know. It’s fine. I know she’s upset.”
    “So what’s Jack’s excuse?”
    “She’s upset.” She shakes her head. “He doesn’t really need an excuse… you know that.”
    “I thought he stopped?”
    “He did. It’s been seven hundred and sixty-three days sober.” Ri watches him, still staring at the glass. Robin’s mouth drops. “We have a little dry erase board at home.” Tears start to shimmer in her eyes. “He’s always so proud to swipe that number and rewrite a new one. Every day.” She swallows hard and motions to the bartender.
    “You want another Crown and Coke?” he asks.
    “No, a ginger-ale, please.”
    Tristan cuts in, “Can I get another water with lemon please?”
    “Sure, why not?” The bartender stays focused on Ri, making her connection to Jack. There’s a look of sympathy in his eyes as he slides the drink. “You good?” he asks Robin.
    She stirs her martini. “So far.” With a familiar nudge from Ri a smile breaks between them and Ri’s head drops to Robin’s shoulder. “Why can’t they play in churches?”
    “Rock ’n roll revivals?” Ri laughs hard. “Can you imagine him at a holy roller jam?” Their laughing is excessive for an image that isn’t truly funny, but it feels better than crying. “Oh God!” Ri holds her side now leaning on Tristan’s shoulder.
    “Oh man, we shouldn’t be laughing… oh.” Robin settles a bit. “We should be taking his glass away.”
    “He’s been in a hundred bars since he stopped and hasn’t flinched for a drink.” Rianne says still winded. “He came here looking for it tonight. I could kinda tell.” She shrugs. “He’s the one who has to cry over it tomorrow. You know interfering only escalates it to a dare.” The defeat in her sigh settles between them.
    “Well, I think we should still suggest they learn to play a few hymns,” Tristan adds with residual giggle.
    The lightened mood only lingers for a moment until Monica slides closer to Jack. The ladies can’t hear her, but they can see a whole lot of inappropriate intention in her face.
     
    “Thought you quit?” Monica asks Jack.
    “Don’t,” he warns.
    “Easy. Jeez.” She finishes sucking down the last drop in her glass and taps it on the bar.
    “Think ye’d slow up a bit though?” he says with his thick Irish accent.
    “Look who needs