Annie's Rainbow - Fern Michaels [97]
Parker wondered if he was drunk. He peered at the contents of the bottle then and knew he was drunk. He drained it. So what if he was drunk? No one cared. He didn’t even have a housekeeper who could drag him to bed and cover him up. He needed to call somebody to find out why his love had dumped him so unceremoniously. Kiki might know. Tom might know. He had a right to know. Every damn right in the world. Damn it, now he was going to have to close down the laboratory.
Parker yanked at the drawer in his desk for his address book. He wondered why he didn’t know his love’s brother’s phone number by heart. Maybe he needed to put on his glasses. It took him ten minutes to realize he didn’t wear glasses, reading or otherwise. “Shit!” he said succinctly. His arm reached out to the small bar set against the wall. He snagged a fresh bottle of scotch just as Tom’s voice came over the wire.
“I need to know why your sister dumped me, Tom, my good buddy. Don’t give me any of that bullshit that you don’t know. Everything was fine one minute, then not fine. I got a fucking Dear John letter by Federal Express. What do you have to say to that, Tom, my good buddy? Your sister doesn’t want me but she wants my fucking coffee. Didja hear that, Tom, my good buddy. It don’t work that way. If I’m not good enough for your sister, then neither is my coffee. You got that, Tom, my good buddy? Why aren’t you saying something, Tom?”
“I was waiting for you to stop talking. I don’t know what it’s all about, Parker. You know I never interfere with my sister’s decisions. She has a mind of her own. I thought everything was roses for you two. Look, if you want to cancel the contract, that’s your decision. It has five months to run before we renew. Right now I think you’re three sheets to the wind. I suggest you sleep it off and call me so we can talk intelligently.”
“Are you telling me you don’t think I’m intelligent? Did your sister tell you to say that?”
“No, Parker, she didn’t. She’s on the road as we speak. I don’t know anything about any of this. Sleep it off and call me back. You’re drunk, Parker.”
“You’d be drunk, too, if someone left you standing at the altar with some shifty explanation that doesn’t make sense. Never mind, I’m going swimming.”
“Parker, wait, don’t do that. I don’t think you’re in any condition to go swimming. Parker, are you listening to me?”
“Why should I listen to you? You don’t say anything. I’m sorry I bothered you. I won’t call again. Tell your sister to have a good life.”
“Parker, wait . . .”
Parker staggered out of the house and down the path that would take him to the waterfalls. He fell twice but never lost his grip on the scotch bottle in his hand. Halfway to the falls he sat down on a rock to admire a perfect rainbow high in the sky. “That’s Annie’s Rainbow,” he said, taking a long pull from the bottle in his hand. He squinted to see how far he was from the falls. He lurched forward, looking over his shoulder every other minute to see if the rainbow was still in the sky. He knew that when it disappeared, there would be another one. Annie said she loved rainbows. She loved rainbows, but she didn’t love him.
He was panting and perspiring profusely as he made the way up the incline that led to the chair behind the falls. When he looked down he noticed he’d lost one of his sandals. He kicked the other one off and laughed as it sailed through the air. That little feat certainly called for a drink. Maybe two. Feat. Feet. He laughed uproariously.
By the time he reached the thick shelf behind the falls that led to the stone chair, he was seeing double. Maybe Tom was right, I am drunk. I deserve to be drunk. Maybe Tom was right about taking a nap, too. Hell no. I’ve come this far and I’m going to get to the chair if it kills me. The chair where he and Annie had sat professing their love for one another.
Precariously, step by step, Parker teetered this way, then that way, his arms swinging outward for balance.