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Stevie knocked on Patrick’s apartment door. She shifted from foot to foot as she waited for him to answer. She thought back to their conversation from the previous week. She told him that she was going to stay at his place the night before the wedding.
When Patrick asked why she had shrugged and said everyone else was going to be at the motel and she didn’t want him to feel alone. He needled her until she admitted she didn’t want to be anywhere near his groomzilla the night before. Patrick had laughed and said she was more than welcome.
David was initially furious that she, his maid of honor, wouldn’t be with him on the eve of his wedding. David’s face had gone soft though when she told him she didn’t want Patrick to be all alone. She also pointed out that someone needed to make sure he wasn’t a flight risk. She smirked as she remembered how quickly he had kicked her out after that. At least one of them was still an idiot.
She was shaken from her reverie when Patrick’s door swung open. “Stevie! You made it!” He gave her a warm smile and stepped aside to let her in.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late. Drama at the motel.” She dropped her bag on the floor and rolled her eyes.
Patrick chuckled. “You don’t say. Do I want to know?”
“I can say with complete certainty that no you do not.” Patrick laughed and cocked his head to the side in amusement. She let out a long sigh. “David is…I don’t know if hysterical is the right word?”
Patrick crossed his arms and nodded before confirming, “No, hysterical is probably accurate. I actually haven’t heard from him in awhile and that’s always way worse.”
“Maybe you should call and check up on him then,” she suggested. He gave her a pointed look.
“Do you think I have a death wish?”
Stevie let out what felt like the first genuine laugh all day. She admired Patrick’s ability to just go with the flow when it came to David. It was a phenomenon she just couldn’t explain. She suddenly remembered the bottle of whiskey in her hand and raised it up. “Shots?”
“I have whiskey, Stevie.” He motioned to his mini bar.
“I just spent the past three hours with the perfect storm that is the Rose family. You being out of whiskey was not a chance I was willing to take.
“That’s fair. Have a seat and I’ll get some shot glasses.” She shrugged her jacket off and sank into the couch cushions. She let out a sigh of contentment and basked in the absolute silence of Patrick’s apartment. Thank God he didn’t still live with Ray.
“Okay, here we go.” Patrick placed two shot glasses on the coffee table before he plopped down on the couch next to her. She started to open the bottle. “Can-”
Stevie held up a finger. “One shot first.” She poured one for each of them and clinked their glasses together before knocking hers back.
Patrick shook his head in amusement but he followed suit. She winced at the burn in her throat and then pushed the bottle toward him as if saying you’re going to need this .
Patrick looked at her incredulously. “Okay, Stevie. Out with it. It can’t be that bad?”
She sat back and bit her lip. “Alexis ‘accidentally’ bought a wedding dress.”
Patrick let out a low whistle and poured himself another shot. “Does it…is it an actual wedding dress, or does it just look like one?”
“Oh, it’s definitely a wedding dress,” she nodded. “It even has a veil,” she motioned like she was putting it on. Patrick shot her a panicked look. She put her hands out in defense, “She’s not wearing it.”
“Well, small miracles.”
She poured herself another shot and gave Patrick a knowing look. “David on the other hand. You’re going to lose your goddamn mind when you see what he’s wearing.”
She downed the shot without breaking eye contact. She loved to troll him about what he thought of David’s appearance. Patrick's mouth dropped open and he felt himself turn bright red.
“So, what should we do,” he asked in a hoarse voice.
Stevie turned to look at him more fully. “We get drunk, Patrick. Very, very…very drunk.” She was already more at ease even though she’d only taken a few shots. “You better catch up,” she pointed to the bottle as if he had forgotten it was there.
“I don’t know, Stevie. I should keep a clear head in case David calls. When he calls,” he corrected. Stevie recoiled at the dopey look on his face so she took it upon herself to pour him another shot.
“He’ll be fine, Stevie.” He stopped to down his shot. “He’s not really upset about the dress.”
“Um, you weren’t there. He seemed pretty fucking upset to me!”
“Nah. It’s just nerves. Very little has gone wrong with planning the wedding so he’s had nothing else to stress about. He’ll be over it by morning,” he shrugged with an easy confidence.
“And you’re sure about that?”
“Yea. And honestly if the only thing he has to worry about tomorrow is whether people think he’s marrying his sister then I’d call us pretty lucky.”
“I guess,” she conceded.
Patrick let out a frustrated exhale. Stevie narrowed her eyes at him and decided to wait him out.
“He’s not as difficult as people make him out to be.”
“I know,” she said softly. She rested her head on one hand. “I know,” she repeated.
“There are a lot of things that set him off, Stevie. Like, a lot.”
“No fucking shit,” She deadpanned.
“I’m okay with that, though. He’s not perfect and neither am I.”
“I’m just warning you I will puke if you say ‘but he’s perfect for me’ or ‘but we’re perfect together’.”
He glared at her petulantly. “That’s not what I was going to say!” Stevie looked at him in disbelief but was distracted when he handed her another shot.
“I just wish people would see how smart he is. How kind. How special. And what a…a good person he is. Stevie snorted. She expected to see Patrick laughing, but when she looked at him...he wasn’t.
He really didn’t get it. “You really don’t get it do you?” she heard herself ask.
“Get what?”
“You’re the only one who sees it because he lets you see it.” You’re the only partner who has ever respected him and somewhere along the way he decided to trust you with his heart. Patrick’s eyes grew big as he listened.
“Oh.” His response was barely above a whisper.
“Plus he’s a giant dick to literally everyone else.” Patrick grinned from ear to ear.
“Yea, you're not wrong about that,” he mused.
“But…it seems like something else is still bugging you?” She asked tentatively. She squeezed her eyes shut hoping his answer wasn’t more dramatic than it had been at the motel. Patrick was a level headed guy but he was prone to blowing things out of proportion. He was entitled to overreact now and then.
Patrick slumped back against the couch. “It’s just. Why do I still feel like I’ll never be good enough for him?”
Fuck! When did this start to go sideways? Maybe drinking wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe Patrick drinking wasn’t such a great idea she corrected. She gently placed a hand on his arm. “Patrick, that’s not even remotely true.”
“Isn’t it? I don’t have much to offer him,” he shook his head. “I don’t have…I can’t buy him Giv-Givchy-the black sweaters he likes or eye cream from Paris.
“He doesn’t care about that stuff anymore. He hasn’t in a long time, actually.”
“So he says,” he clipped back.
“Patrick. When he first came here…he was so lost. He couldn’t…he didn’t… have lotta hope about his future. No one in New York gave a shit bout him after he left. Not one person,” she punctuated each of the last three words
“He lost absssolutely everything he ever knew. He jus-st sorta shut down and for some God forsaken reason I am his decoder ring. I don’t know why, but I love that asshole.”
“But you!” She pointed at Patrick like she was accusing him of something. “You’re in love with him and tomorrow he’s officially yours. He dssn’t come with a warranty and there’s no return policy. I hope you know that.”
A small grin spread across his face. “Yea, I do know that.” She noticed that, despite his reaction, his gaze was downward as if lost in thought.
She saw her friend was hurting but she was completely unqualified in this area. Her mind wasn’t particularly sharp at the moment either. But the truth remained that she wanted to try.
She actually had wanted to be here for him tonight. He had somehow weaseled his way into her cold, dead heart and she’d never admit this out loud, but she loved him. What the fuck had the two of them done to her!
She put a hand on his shoulder and when he turned to look at her she saw that his eyes were teary. Or maybe just glassy? She couldn’t tell for sure. She pulled him closer and said “C’mere, dumbass,” in a voice that almost convinced her she was capable of showing sincerity. She’d have to unpack that later.
He didn't move so she tugged him toward her. He went willingly this time and she wrapped herself around him from behind. She rested the side of her face on his shoulder and she felt him relax.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m being stupid.”
She hugged him a little tighter. “No, you’re not. What’s-wheress this is coming from all of a sudden.” He leaned his head, suddenly heavy, back against Stevie.
“Mhm. I overheard Mr. Rose telling you about the wedding David wanted b‘fore they lost their money. Bali. Jets.” How had he overheard that? She would have seen him if he was nearby. David always told her she never helped when in reality it was Mr. Rose who made all the blunders. Was he the one who led these two idiots to where they are now? She scoffed internally. “I can't even imagine having that much money at my diss-po-disposal. Don’t think I’ll everrr spend nuff money in my entire life than David spent on-” he paused mid sentence. “On-on one fall collection or whatever,” he huffed out.
“That’s cause you’re cheap,” Stevie mumbled. She smiled when he barked out a genuine laugh.
“Yea, well,” he sighed.
“Lissen, Patrick. You have to know David’s different now. He dossn’t give a fuck about Bali. Or jets. He cares about fucking you,” Stevie immediately giggled. She saw Patrick put his hand over his face but he didn’t say anything.
Stevie tried again. “The people from his old life are assholes. Okay? He tried to buy happs-happen-happenness and how did that work out for him?” She thought he’d fallen asleep when he didn’t answer so she nudged him.
“It din’t,” he murmured.
“You give him free stuff and he’s n’ver been happier. Your dumb heart eyes, your stupid face, the way you beam at his nonsense.” Patrick laughed because he knew it was all true. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it.
“Thank you, Stevie.”
“You want to know another reason why you’re different?” Patrick hummed. “He’d never give me any details. Like, sexy details. He’s n’vr held back before.”
“And you’ve asked for these sexy details!?”
“Yup,” she answered with absolutely no shame.
“Stevie! That’s…that’s…”
“I go through dry spells, Patrick! I have to live vicariously through other’s and you guys fuck like rabbittss.”
“He’s really never told you anything?”
“No. But one time I asked how big your dick is.”
“Oh my God, Stevie!” Patrick went to get up but she pulled him back down.
“All he’d say is that he’s very satisfied with your situation. But I think he only told me because he’s proud of it or something.”
“There’s a lot to be proud of,” Patrick agreed.
Stevie smacked his shoulder and cackled at his response. “I have to get you drunk more often.”
“I don’t think so.” He tapped her hand indicating that he wanted to get up. She fell back and sprawled herself across the couch. “Come on. It’s bedtime, Stevie.”
They held onto each other as they stumbled toward the bed. He tucked Stevie under the blankets and grabbed the quilt at the foot of his bed for himself.
Stevie snuggled up next to him and he pulled her in with one arm. “Thank you, Stevie,” he whispered. He leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Sometimes you do help.”