“Ireland does produce some wonderful, wonderful things,” Siobhan said with a small nod. “I don’t think alcohol and sadness really mix period. I don’t do well being sad and drunk. I just manage to cry and look like an idiot if I get too drunk.”
“Drunk crying. I'm familiar." She joked, tilting her head at her. "My mom used to say that sad drinking is juet cheap therapy... She was always drunk though, so I wouldn't take her word for it."
As Raul listened to the recounting of the night’s events, he oscillated between amusement and concern. Amusement because it was Halloween and of course, he would walk into a room to find Alba sitting them nursing a wound; the universe just worked like that sometimes. Concern because she’d mentioned a head injury and there was no telling how serious it was until he’d had the opportunity to run some tests. Not to mention the cuts.
“Good evening, Ms. Sutton, I’m Dr. Vargas and I’ll be taking care of you tonight.” Raul extended a hand in greeting, his lips twitching in slight amusement. Still, he was a professional and this was his place of employment. “Just looking at your charts, I’ll have to order a scan.” There was no telling with head injuries. He wouldn’t be able to ethically rule out bleeds or swelling until he’d had the imaging done. “Unfortunately the night tech isn’t quite as fast as the day guy.” Though what he lacked in speed, he certainly made up for in efficiency and bedside manner.
“Please follow the light,” he gently commanded as he shone the small light he’d pulled from his coat pocket in her face, paying attention to the way her pupils dilated before moving the line of the light to the left, right, up, and down. “I’ll have someone come in to look at your cuts. If you’re lucky, you won’t need stitches though I can’t make any promises. Do you have any questions for me?”
The universe hated her, she was sure of it.
She hesitantly reaching forward to shake his hand. Right, this was where he worked. Ever the stickler, they had to retain a professional air about them. “Nice to meet you.” She murmured, pursing her lips lightly. It seemed ironic that she disliked hospitals, but was perfectly comfortable shacking up with a doctor a few times a week. Probably because she and Raul didn’t really dig that deep when it came to each other. It was easy to separate the man from his profession when they never really talked about it. She knew what he did and she knew that he was good at it -he had stated so several times- butseeing him standing in front of her in scrubs was a bit jarring.
It was nice he was getting some kind of kick out of it, she mentally rolled her eyes at the slight uptick of his lips. She blinked a few times in surprise when he flashed the light in her eyes, following it just as he gently instructed. Alba guessed if she had to have a doctor, Raul wasn’t that bad. However, when he mentioned scans and stitches, she bristled at the thought. Alba shook her head. “Is that really necessary, R- Dr. Vargas?” She spoke up, gesturing slightly to her hand. “My head doesn’t even hurt, it was just a bump. A few aspirin and I should be good. And I have three articles due this week, I kind of need my hand. My coworker is dramatic, I’m fine.” Her head actually did hurt and she was pretty sure that her hand was bleeding through the towel, but Alba and hospitals didn’t mix well. She has spent long enough in one to know that she wasn’t a fan by any means.
Mariana frowns as she watches her friend but still she offers her a soft smile. “I get that, well if you change your mind or it doesn’t float away you know I’m here and you have a fair point but maybe Iain or Elias could help get us out of the assault charge.” She can’t help but smile as she kneels to hook his leash to his harness. “I think he adores you too, look at that face he loves all the Alba love. and he’s officially part of the family, I signed the papers a bit ago”
“Trust me, I’ll let you know if anything changes in that subtle way I always do.” In truth, she probably wouldn’t if she had any say in it. It was how she always dealt with things, she kept them bottled up until she could deal with thrm properly. Not that she ever actually did that in a healthy way. “Well welcome to the fold, Ali. My advice? Stay on Terry’s good side and do not get addicted to Mari’s cooking because you will get fat.”
“This is a fair point. I’m saving bartenders from having to make a ridiculous amount of mai tais and cosmos and apple-tinis” He couldn’t help but chuckle at her response, it wasn’t what she said but how she said it. She had so much conviction she could make him believe anything. “I could try, though I’m not sure where I’d look. Though honestly I would need to know where it would need improvements”
“And I’m sure the bartenders of the Upper East Side appreciate it.” Alba joked along, looking down at the dark, Amber liquid in her own glass. Drinking made her chatty, it always had. A tipsy Alba meant stories and declarations galore, usually tied together with her lamenting some sad part of her life that she usually wouldn’t speak about. “I just don’t get how I got settled with shitty parents. Well, parent. I don’t even know if my father knows I exist, but if he does, then his fucking loss.” She frowned and downed the rest of her drink, forcing it down her throat with a grimace. “You think I did something in a past life? Pissed some the wrong people off?”
He reached for the bottle to pour himself another glass. “You sure about that? Pretty sure we’ll have to pour you into a cab long before this bottle is empty.” He nods faintly as he takes a drink. “Alright, I’m pretty sure that’s not how liquor works but we can try it”
Alba scoffed. “Oh please, I might be small, but I can drink like a champ. I’ve been blessed with a strong liver. Blessed…cursed, one of those.” She raised a brow at him, a small smirk slipping on to her lips. “Okay, Upper West Side. Tell me how liquor works then since you’re such an expert.”
Siobhan nodded in approval at her choices. “The Irish make the best whiskey after all,” she said with a grin. “I mean the others can try and make a worthy adversary, but they just can’t top it completely.” She had some strong opinions on whiskey. “I love tequila though. Tequila mixes so well with fruity drinks. It’s like heaven.”
“Yet another thing the Irish can take credit for. That and producing my favorite twins.” Alba joked half heartedly. She nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Tequila’s great, I’ve just been personally victimized by it one too many times. Sad Alba and Tequila do not mix well. Sad Alba and whiskey though?” She dangled her glass between two fingers and shrugged. “Works out just fine for me.”
Mari found hearing her friends words and turned toward her hoping to get her attention. “Alba, you are my girl, you know that. It doesn’t matter what I’m going through, I will always be here for you and want to know what’s going on. We are here for eachother through everything. If you are going through some shit I wanna know about it, especially who I need to beat up.” She smiles and nods as Ava comes over to let him out so they can take him home “Of course he is, he’s gotta be a looker to hang out with us”
“I know... I just,” For a moment, Alba almost told her. She almost poured out her heart to her best friend and told her that her mother’s visit had upended all the hard work she had done to get over the damage she had done. “Honestly, I just kind of want it all to float away into obscurity. The less I talk about it, the faster it’ll pass. Besides, do we really need another possible assault charge? I don’t think we can talk ourselves out of two.” Alba smiled and knealed down to pet Ali, letting him sniff and lick at her hand. “You know, Ali, you just might be the guy that gets my heart because you are too cute.”
He chuckles and shakes his head reaching for the bottle to pour more into his own glass. “That’s not it. First of all, lets be real, there aren’t really any happily ever afters. Life just isn’t that easy. And there’s a difference between moving on and forgetting. So you had a crappy childhood, Look how strong you are now, look how far you’ve come from that. Second of all, I don’t think you are batshit. Just had someone come in and piss you off..what’s got you grinding your gears about your childhood right now?”
"This... is not strong.” She said, gesturing to the now half full bottle of Jameson. She was drunk enough that the lights seemed brighter and the bar was slowly devolving into swirls of color. “This is sad. Even I’m not in that much denial to say it’s not. And honestly? I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to drink and forget about... all of it.”
“Exactly why you are my favorite” He smiles to her before taking a drink from his glass. He shakes his head faintly. “Honestly sometimes I feel like i’m taking advantage but reality is if I don’t do it someone else will and maybe they need to know the truth like you said.” Setting his glass down and turns to her. “Now come on what can I do to put a smile on that face huh?”
“Taking advantage? You offer a service that people need. Can you imagine all the broke, upper east side ex-wives if there weren’t P.I.’s? Manhattan hotel bars would be swamped.” She was drunk and probably talking nonsense, but she was passionate in her words anyway. She appreciated the information he gave her. It contributed to some of her best articles. At his question, she frowned as she swallowed down the last of her drink, her face scrunching from the burning sensation. “Can you get me a new childhood? That would be great.”
Siobhan nodded. She understood why someone wouldn’t like that question, but sometimes it was a good reason to ask it. Siobhan decided now might not be the best time to press with her questions. “What’re you drinking?” she asked, switching the subject for now.
Alba felt bad. Worse than bad, if she was being honest, but it didn’t make her want to let her emotional dam break and confess to Siobhan everything that had happened in the past couple weeks. Her mother, her job... She loved Shiv like the big sister she never had, but that was a load she had to bear in silence. “Jameson, straight up.” She said, gesturing to her empty glass. “Tequila seemed too cliche.”
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