The Beautiful Truth

// 74

"Thanks for the ride, Kerry," Talyn kind of laughed as my dad pulled our Tahoe into the driveway just before eleven p.m.

My dad, who had been not-so-quietly enjoying our drunken banter all the way home from Harlan's, turned to us and smiled. I was sitting cock-eyed in the passenger seat, having turned to animatedly tell Talyn a story about Seth and Alex. I forget why, but it was relevant five minutes ago.

Kerry Fitzgerald reached for the door. "You kids take your time. You know where to find me," he told me.

I wrinkled my nose and him. What did he think we were gonna do?

"'Night, Kerry," Talyn answered before I could voice my confusion. "Thanks again."

Having slid out onto the driveway, my dad turned before closing the door. "Anytime. You two aren't the only people in this car to get tanked at Harlan's at the age of nineteen," he winked. "I'm glad you called."

"Be inside in a second, dad," I smiled.

Kerry nodded, and shut the door.

"Why're we still in the car?" I asked.

Talyn grinned and sprawled himself out further on the back seat. "I dunno. It's warm. I don't wanna go home yet."

I looked at him skeptically. "We can go inside. It's not ev'n 'leven a'clock."

Talyn laughed. "OK, we'n do that," he winked. "But uh, SF...'re we OK?"

We were drunk. But that didn't change the answer. Even in my foggy stupor, I smiled warmly. "Yeah, Tally. We're fine. I had fun tonight."

He looked so relieved. "Me too."

I frowned, studying his face. "For the record," I began cautiously, vaguely aware that I'd never have the courage to tell him sober, "I lied. I'm not sorry...about most of...it. But, um," I looked down at my lap momentarily, then made myself meet his eyes again. "You know why we...why I can't do that again."

Talyn nodded slightly, somehow managing to frown and smile at the same time. He sighed, and glanced out the window. "Yeah, Say, I know. And for the record," he said, looking back at me, "I lied, too. I'm not sorry about everything either."

We looked at each other for a second, seeming to know exactly what each other meant.

"Wanna see if there's a spring training game on?" he asked, grinning.

I rolled my eyes and reached for the door. "Sure, you know I'll be out within twenty minutes."

Talyn laughed, walking inside behind me. "Go get ready for bed, SF. I'll find the game and get us some water."

I smiled suspiciously at him again, but soon turned and followed his orders. Ten minutes later, I met him on the couch.

"Yankees-Rays," Talyn announced, patting the seat beside him.

I sighed. Sober or drunk, baseball put me to sleep. Rather than sit next to him, I laid down and put my head in his lap.

Talyn sighed. Again, had I not been drunk...had we not just said those things to each other...

"You still wanna go with me to OU Tuesday?" I asked softly, feeling my eyelids growing heavy in the flickering light of the TV.

"Of course, babe," he said immediately, without pause.

It seemed natural. I didn't think twice about it. I closed my eyes and Talyn smoothed my hair off my forehead. It wasn't long before his playing with my hair, and Joe Buck's voice, put me sound to sleep.

I woke up the next morning tucked into my bed.