Page 78 of Offensive Plays

I’m alone at the bar in the back when I hear his voice, low and sultry, against my bare shoulder,“Hello, butterfly.”

I turn slightly to look at him. “Hey.”

Then I go back to giving him my back. Nobody can see us talking. Not tonight. Tonight of all night’s is off-limits for our little exchanges.

“What’s wrong, Lib?” He steps in front of me and leans against the bar casually watching me.

“Your family is here,” I say without looking at him. The bartender slides me my cosmo and I pass my card. Michael moves my card back toward me and he offers his own.

“Ferguson. And leave it open please,” he tells the bartender. “Anything she wants, put it on my tab.”

The bartender nods his understanding and goes back to his register.

“I can take care of my own drinks,” I say to him, sipping, when really I just want to gulp it down.

“Just because you can,” he says, “doesn’t mean you should.” He reaches for my arm and I back away.

“Not here,” I warn him.

He looks around the ball room. In the middle is an open dance space surrounded by circular tables. Considering a church co-sponsored it’s a little weird that there’s a cash bar. But, if the Heatwave is involved, alcohol is almost always involved too.

His dad and older brother are chatting with some guys at their table.

“Anything for you, sir?” The bartender asks.

“I’ll just have a root beer,” Michael says.

“Trying to stay sober?” I’m sure he wants to be on his best behavior in front of his family.

“Since I plan to take you to bed later,” he says casually, “yes.”

Oh. Then I do actually gulp down the rest of my drink.

“Would you like another, ma’am?” The bartender asks.

I look at Michael who’s holding back his amusement.

“You know what,” I look at his nametag,“Chris… keep the cosmos coming.”

Michael eyes me over the rim of his glass of root beer.

“Do you see her yet?” I ask, not turning to face the crowd.

He scans the room behind me. “Not yet.”

“Great, waiting for the Wicked Witch of the West is worse than actually being around her. How does she have this kind of power?”

Michael’s face relaxes. “She’s not all bad.”

I scoff, “Says the apple of her eye.”

Chris hands me another drink and I don’t hesitate to take down half of it before I look at Michael again.

“She wants the best for her kids. Every mom does. She just has a weird way of showing it.”

“For someone that’s been on the receiving end of her wrath, you sure have a lot of grace for the woman,” I tell him.

“Well, who are we if we don’t try to have compassion on those that hurt us?”