Drop Dead.

“Honey, can you get me the casserole out of the fridge?” I called to David as I stood before the counter. I was busy making stuffing and a pie for Thanksgiving. The Murphies would be arriving shortly and, since I had a nasty habit of doing everything at the last minute, I was rushing to make sure everything cooked and ready. David appeared out of the bedroom, attempting to tie his tie, but failing. I chuckled at him as he pouted, abandoning my post for a mere two minutes to loop his tie and pull it tight.

“Thank you, babe,” he gushed, grinning cheekily before pecking my lips. I smiled back and flicked the tip of his nose. I spun around, ready to go back to work, when the doorbell rang on David’s our apartment door. Then I panicked and began rapidly mixing the potatoes, making sure they were whipped and ready to be served. David went to the door and I heard him greet his parents, offering to take their coats.

Then the voices entered the kitchen and I turned to smile at Linda and Paul making their way over to me. I paused in my whipping briefly to hug them, kiss their cheeks, and wish them a happy Thanksgiving. Linda overlooked my cooking, smiling in approval. While David entertained his parents with wine and hors d'oeuvres in the living room, I finished the meal, leaving the covered finished side dishes on the kitchen table. All I had to do now was wait for the turkey to be done. When I was, I sliced of a decent amount of meat and set it on the table, calling the others in. We refilled our wine glasses and sat down, immediately digging into the food.

“So Charlotte,” Linda said, taking a sip of wine before continuing. “Have you heard from Mel at all?” I frowned. It had been months since I was kicked out of the apartment I shared with Melanie and in that time span, we hadn’t spoken once. The subject was still sore for me and I instantly refilled my glass, even though only a quarter of wine had been consumed.

“I’m sorry, dear,” Linda apologized, laying her hand over mine. I accepted her apology and sipped my wine, figuring I’d need a whole new bottle to get through this Thanksgiving.

When David offered to entertain his parents again, I didn’t argue. Instead, I scooped up my keys and left the apartment, bound for the nearest liquor store. When I parked, there were only two cars in the lot. The store was basically empty except for one cashier behind the counter. I picked up two more bottles of wine and brought them to the counter, handing the man my debit card.

“Charlotte?” I whipped around at the sound of my name. There, in the flesh, was the man who almost shot my relationship to hell.

“Oliver,” I said, my voice revealing the shock in my voice. He sent me a lopsided smile as he set his basket down on the counter beside him. I took a glance at it and noticed all the bottles of hard liquor, piled until he couldn’t fit any more.

“’ow…’ow are yeh?” he asked, shoving his hands in his pocket. I almost didn’t want to answer. I wanted to grab my wine, leave the store, and hole myself up in my room and drink until I died. But then I’d be just like Oliver.

“I’m…I’m good. Yeh?” I asked him, not really interested in hearing his answer. In fact, I just wasn’t interested in staying any longer.

“Been better,” he muttered, looking down. If he was going to guilt-trip me, then I wasn’t staying. Snatching my card from the startled cashier, I grabbed my bottles of wine and left the store. Behind me I heard Oliver tell the cashier to ring up his things and that he’d be back in a minute. I rolled my eyes as Oliver’s footfalls followed me to my car.

“’ave yeh talked to Mel at all?” he asked me fearfully. I unlocked my car, set my bag down on the driver’s seat, and turned to glare at him.

“No, I haven’t. And I have yeh to blame for it,” I shot harshly at him. He flinched, but I felt no remorse towards him. Only anger and the growing urge to slap him. But I refrained and continued to watch him.

“I said I was sorreh, Char,” he pleaded, his eyes showing his sincerity. I gritted my teeth.

“And your apology’s not accepted, Oliver. Because of yeh, I lost my best friend, my home. Yeh just lucky I didn’t lose David.” He looked stunned after I mentioned David.

“So…yeh still wiff ‘im?” he asked quietly, sadly. I nodded sternly.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he muttered, pulling bottom lip between his teeth. “’ave yeh married ‘im then?” I held up my left hand to reveal my engagement ring. David had proposed two months after everything with Melanie headed south and we were hoping to be married in June.

“Engaged,” I corrected, though I didn’t know why I bothered. Before an awkward silence could settle over us, I bid Oliver goodbye and a happy Thanksgiving. He didn’t return the sentiment and I didn’t watch him walk back into the store to pay for his liquor.