I’ve been drunk before, but I’ve never felt so high. I’ve always been scared about the future. But this time, for once, I’m excited about the possibilities. He tells me that when the offer is accepted he wants to begin work on the place right away, and try to open sometime in the early fall. He’s talking a mile a minute about his plans, and I realize it’s the way he is whenever he’s around a car he loves. But even so, I’ve actually never seen him quite this excited. “My parents sold their house,” I tell him. “They’re closing at the end of August. I was thinking of getting an apartment in town, maybe near the bar.” “Above Murphy’s?” he says. “Fuck that. That’s no place for my girl. Why wouldn’t you just stay with me in my apartment?” My girl? I smile, about to have a heart attack for the second time that day. That’s almost as astonishing as him telling me he loved me.
