I nod. "I'm really nervous. I can't seem to stay away. Hoping to see everything set up tonight so I can sleep without worrying."
"It'll go well," he says with confidence I don't feel. "Out of curiosity, how did you convince the club board to let you have livestock on the veranda?"
"I didn't ask. I told them I was doing it." I smile.
"Good girl." He gives me a quick hug. "I'll save a shot of whiskey for you."
"Petr-" I start.
"Nope. I'm a grown man. If I want to drink, I will." He draws himself up to his full height of right around six-foot-one. "Deal with it, sis."
"Whatever." I love Petr, even when he's trying to act all tough like he is now. "Don't forget a tie tomorrow morning."
With another exasperated shake of his head, he leaves the club for the car waiting out front.
I watch him then turn back to the clubhouse. The event is taking shape, filled with sparkles and decorations and happiness that rubs off on me. I can't help smiling, knowing I made this possible. I'm proud of myself.
With an optimistic guess that I'll be out of there by nine o'clock, I dive in to help lay out silverware in the dining room.
***
It's past midnight when I get home. The pre-party crowd has spilled out onto the deck, and I make my way through the throng, intent on reaching the back stairwell and escaping up to my room. Deck furniture surrounds several fire pits, and an open bar is located in the center of the open space.
Too tired to find Petr and remind him about the morning, I don't bother stopping. I barely hear someone call my name until he's right behind me. Jarred out of my daze, I turn to see Harris there.
"Hey," he says.
"Hi." I haven't seen him since this summer. I assume his family was invited as usual to the holiday bash. A little leery after our last exchange, I find myself growing alert. He wouldn't do anything in front of all these people. Of course, I won't think twice about socking him if he does.
"Great party, as always," he says, lifting his glass. He seems a little unfocused. "You, uh, got a minute to talk?"
"Yeah."
"I mean away from all this." He waves at the crowd.
"Um, not really. We can talk here."
He glances around and inches close enough that I can smell the alcohol on his breath. "I thought maybe … you know. I could apologize in private."
I hesitate. He's drunk, and I'm not afraid to hit him. I'm pretty sure that puts us on even ground.