“We probably shouldn’t drink anymore,” Meg suggested, but they both laughed.
“Aren’t we here for my divorce party?” Gen laughed. “Don’t kill my buzz. Check out the hottie. Nine o’clock.”
Meg looked to the right, and Gen scowled. “Your other nine o’clock.”
“That’s your nine o’clock,” Meg pointed out, peering at the tall handsome waiter across the room. “But he’s delicious.”
“I think he’s Greek,” Gen said, almost falling out of her chair as she leaned to examine him more closely. He glanced at them, and they tittered and righted themselves.
“I am a dignified surgeon,” Meg announced to her sister. “I do not get drunk.”
“That ship has sailed tonight,” Gen answered, her nose pleasantly numb. “This is a nice way to kick off my new life, sis. Thank you for making me come.”
“That’s what he said.” Meg laughed hysterically and her sister rolled her eyes, but then got the joke and laughed, too.
They plowed through their steaks with abandon, without regard to calories or even manners.
“That was the best steak I’ve ever had in my life,” Gen announced at the end, when she finally decided to be ladylike and pat at her lips delicately.
Meg agreed. “They do it up right here.”
“How you doin’?” Gen said, looking up at the waiter, and he smiled as though he handled drunk women every night of his life.
“Quite well, miss. Should I hail you a cab?”
“We’re two independent women,” Gen slurred. “We’ve got this.”
She paid their bill, signing the check with a flourish. Miraculously, a cab was waiting outside (courtesy of the waiter) and they tumbled in. Gen practically fell into the back seat, and Meg laughed.
“You’re so drunk,” she giggled.
“You are, too,” Gen replied indignantly. In the rearview mirror, Gen saw the cabdriver smile.
“Not as much as you,” Meg informed her, prim and proper now, straightening her jacket.
Gen pulled out her phone. “Here. We gotta take a drunk selfie for Mom. She’ll be so proud.” They leaned together, and Gen snapped the picture, sending it off to their mother. Periodically, on the way back to the hotel, they broke out into uncontrollable laughter fits for no real reason.
When their mother replied to their text with, Oh, my gosh, you two. Don’t talk to strangers, they practically howled.
The doorman at the hotel opened the door, and Gen stopped to straighten his tie. To his credit, he didn’t even blink.
They laughed in the elevator up to the room, and when they burst into their suite, Gen went straight for her bed and collapsed onto it.
Meg came, too, lying down next to her sister.
“Is the room spinning, or is it just me?” she sighed.
“It’s spinning,” Gen confirmed.
Meg started to grin, but then she noticed Gen’s hand. In particular, the wedding ring.
She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you still wearing that?”
Gen shook her head, subconsciously covering it with her hand. “I forgot about it until earlier today. I haven’t taken it off in forever.”
“You should.” Meg nodded. Her eyes lit up. “Ohhhh, you could give it to me. Mine is small. Joe doesn’t like large rings. And yours has that giant diamond.” She sniffed as she looked at her own smallish ring. Gen rolled her eyes.
“It’s bad luck,” she announced, standing up. “Also, this ring has terrible energy.”
Her mood shifted into something dark, something angry, and her mirth was long gone. Thoughts of her ex-husband crushed it into the night.
The room swirled into a kaleidoscope of light, but she was determined. She marched to the balcony and stood by the edge. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to be rid of it.
Meg rushed to her, pulling her back. “Don’t stand there. You’re too close. You’re scaring me.”
Gen shook her off. “You’re just scared of heights. Wait a second.
“I hope that whoever finds this ring will have better luck with it than I have,” she said loudly, kissing the ring and then throwing it into the night as hard as she could.
They both peered over the edge, but obviously they couldn’t see where it landed.
“Oh, my God. I can’t believe you did that,” Meg said, staring into the darkness. “That thing was worth like a jillion dollars. I wonder where it landed? Maybe a homeless person will find it.”
“That would be nice. They could sell it.”
“You could’ve sold it,” Meg answered. “It was valuable.”
“I don’t want anything else from that man. Ever. Fuck him, and his whore.”
“Yeah!” Meg agreed. She slumped against the door. “Fuck them. I’m sorry, Gen. You don’t deserve any of this.” She reached out to rub her sister’s back, but Gen hated the sympathy.
The idea of someone feeling sorry for her... It was too much in this moment. She wanted to be alone. Her happy buzz was gone, and anger had replaced it.
“Feel sorry for him,” she suggested. “He’s the one who will be leading the empty life. Not me.” Meg nodded, but Gen could tell her sister thought she was just blowing smoke. “I mean it,” she insisted. “I hope he ends up with that whore, and she ends up cheating on him. And then they both end up miserable. Because...karma.”
“You’re right,” Meg agreed. “He’s an asshole.”
“I’m gonna go get some air,” Gen decided, her cheeks flushed and hot. She hated feeling like a bitter wench.
“We’re standing on a balcony,” Meg pointed out.
“Nah. I mean, I’d like some air alone,” Gen clarified. Away from the sympathetic eyes of someone who knew she was scorned. It was humiliating, even in front of her sister.
Before Meg could protest, Gen backed out the door.
“At least take a jacket,” Meg managed to call.
Gen grabbed her sister’s coat on the way out the door. She couldn’t wait to move away, to a place where they wouldn’t know the whole seedy story, or a place where she didn’t have to wear her humiliation like a coat. It was a label she didn’t want.
For the fourth time today, she took a ride in the elevator. She dropped the coat on the floor, bent to pick it up and stumbled. Annoyed, she tied it around her waist, tugging it hard.