The Beginning of the End, Part 21

Not another word was ever mentioned by either myself or Marc about the events of that night. In fact, Marc wound up moving out only a week after he moved in. He had found another friend to stay with – someone who had a little more room than we had. He still came around, and we still partied together, but the tension was gone. And Kevin never knew.

The days began to blur together, every day a repeat of the previous one. Work, party, sleep. Work, party, sleep. The only problem was that there never seemed to be enough time to sleep. I was becoming physically exhausted and more dependent on the drugs to keep me going.

Summer turned into fall, and soon it was Thanksgiving. With no money to get home for the holiday, and since both our work schedules were pretty busy, we stayed put. While Kevin went out to score, I heated up some spaghetti-o’s on the hot plate. As I ate my Thanksgiving meal alone in the motel room, I felt a pang of homesickness. My family was probably watching football and eating turkey, while I spent the day with Chef Boyardee. I pushed the melancholy thoughts to the back of my mind and instead tried to concentrate on the next holiday – Christmas. I was going home for Christmas thanks to my parents, a plane ticket would be waiting for me at the airport on the 22nd. I was looking forward to seeing my family and old friends, and although I was disappointed Kevin wouldn’t be joining me, I understood that he couldn’t afford to go. All our money went to the room and partying, saving for a plane trip was something that just seemed laughable.

I was shaken from my daydreams by the sound of Kevin barreling in the room. “Happy Thanksgiving, babe!” he said with a grin, pulling out a larger-than-usual bag of coke. “Let’s get started!”

And so went my first Thanksgiving in Reno.

The next day at work, my fellow employees were buzzing about the big Christmas party. It seemed that every year, there was a huge party held in a local hall, with dinner and an open bar. The restaurant would be closed for the evening just so everyone could attend.

“But I’m going back to Chicago,” I told Shelley.

“How early?” she asked. “The party is two weeks before Christmas. Management knows that a lot of people out here are ‘transplants’ and keep that in mind around the holidays.”

My spirits lifted. “Really? Great! Then I’ll definitely be there!”

“It’s really a good time,” she told me. “Last year, Angelo climbed on one of the tables and sang ‘O Holy Night.’”

I laughed at the image of the stout Italian waiter belting out the serene carol. Angelo was one of a kind.

“You’re going to bring Kevin, right?” Shelley asked.

I hesitated. “I’m not sure. He might have to work.”

“Oh, tell him to take the day off. It’s fun!” she pleaded. “And it’s better than locking yourselves in that damn motel room all the time.”

I looked away. Shelley was no fool, and had commented more than once on the subtle changes only a friend would notice – the lost weight, the jitters, the dark circles under my eyes. She covered for me when I came in late, and helped me out when I needed “just a few extra bucks.” But she didn’t like it, and tried often to get me to commit to quitting.

“We’ve been cutting down…” I said meekly.

Shelley snorted. “Yeah, right.” With a sigh of exasperation, she put her hand on my arm. “Look, Dasi, I know it’s hard. But getting out and doing things will make it easier. For you and Kevin. And honestly it really is fun.”

“Ok, I’ll try to get him to come,” I sighed.

“Yay!” Shelley clapped her hands like a little girl. “Shit, I’ve got to get breadsticks to table eight. Later!”

I watched her practically skip back to the kitchen and laughed to myself. Shelley was such a good person, and she really gave a damn about me. About me and Kevin, actually. She was right. Maybe going to this Christmas Party would be just what we needed to start being more social, and to cut down on the drugs.

When I got home that night, I brought it up to Kevin.

“You know I hate those things. I don’t even know anyone,” he whined.

“Oh, come on, Kev! You do too! You know Mike, and Shelley, and Angelo…” I drifted off, watching him roll his eyes.

“I think I’m working.”

“You don’t even have your schedule for that week yet. How could you think you’re working?” I said with frustration.

He shrugged. “Well, because I usually do work on Saturday nights.”

“So request the night off,” I pleaded. “Please, Kevin? I don’t want to go alone.”

“I’ll think about it.”

But the night of the party, Kevin decided not to go. I got dressed in angry silence, while he made excuses.

“It’s your work party, after all. You’ll have fun without me.”

“Whatever,” I replied frostily.

“Oh, come on, babe! I promised Matt I’d meet him for a drink.”

I glared at him. “You knew I wanted you to come. You even took the day off.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I changed my mind. I don’t feel comfortable with those people.”

My eyes narrowed. “You don’t feel comfortable with ‘those people?'” I mimicked. “Why, because they’re not junkies?”

Kevin didn’t say a word. And I was so angry, I stormed out the door and into the night without waiting for him to.

My eyes burned with tears I refused to release. I was going to have fun with or without him, I didn’t need him anyway. Let him go out with Matt. I didn’t care.

But the fact was, I did care, and it really hurt me that he was so damn stubborn.

The walk to the hall took longer than I expected, and when I arrived, the party was already in full swing. Shelley noticed me immediately, and her face clouded with concern when she saw I was alone.

“He’s not coming?” she asked, steering me towards the bar.

“Nope,” I replied. “But so what? Let's get a drink.”