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A car pulled up outside Will's house just after nine at night. The dogs crowded around the door and poured out onto the porch when he opened it. Beverly held a take-out bag out of their reach and strode through them to thrust it into Will's hands.
"It's probably cold by now," she said. "I got lost in the land of no street lights back that way." She waved a hand over her shoulder. "I was expecting banjo music any second. Do you like Indian?"
"Sure," Will said, and stood aside so she could come in.
The dogs milled around her and made it impossible to take more than one small careful step at a time. She seemed happy to give them the attention they wanted, so Will let them be. He went into the kitchen to put curry and rice and saag paneer on plates.
"What are their names?" Beverly asked.
He pointed them out, one by one. "Buster and Winston, Sunny and Zoe, Bear, Dammit, and Alfie."
"Dammit?"
"Most stubborn dog you'll ever meet. It was supposed to be Chip, but he responds better to Dammit now."
She smiled and sat on the edge of his bed and repeated the names under her breath. Will watched her. People didn't generally even try until the second or third visit, which made Alana the only one besides him who knew them all. He set the plates on the table.
"Beer?"
"Yes, please," she said fervently.
They sat down to eat with two bottles of Sam Adams and a profound silence. Beverly drank more than she ate, until the bottle was gone and she'd started on the next, and then she ate naan and samosas and left the rest of it to Will.
"Is there a case?" he asked.
She shook her head.
Winston nudged her hand until she reached down to scratch his ears. Bad manners, but Will let him get away with it.
"You staying here tonight?" he said.
She looked up at him, startled for a second and then quickly sliding a neutral expression into place. He stole one of her samosas.
"You can have the bed," he said. "I sleep in the chair often enough anyway." She nodded slowly, and he got them another bottle each. "This is it for the beer. We'll have to switch to whiskey when these are gone."
"I'm good with that."
They did the dishes together. Will poured them whiskey. She lay on the bed, and he sat in his chair by the window. The dogs settled in front of the fireplace, coats tinted orange by the warm glow of the space heater. Wind and a thin snow hissed around the corners of the house.
Beverly balanced her glass on her chest, both hands wrapped around it. "You know why I came here tonight?" she asked.
"No."
"Because you were the only person I could think of who would let me show up at your house at nine o'clock at night and not ask me what was wrong."
"I won't ask. You can tell me if you want."
She was quiet for a minute. "My brother gets in trouble sometimes. Drinking, drugs. He got in a car accident."
"Is he okay?"
"He will be. I had to call everyone. And now they're all at Mom and Dad's house. There's a lot of us, and everyone's talking about him like they always do, and it's-- You don't know what it's like."
"No. I don't."
"Mom's birthday is in three days. She'll be sixty. We've been planning the party for months, and my brother's in the hospital, and he's done this so many times that all I can think is, why the hell couldn't he wait until after the party?"
"So you came here because you didn't want to talk about it."
She smiled a little and flipped him off. "There's nothing to talk about, except that I'm a terrible sister, and I'm sort of hoping someone gets killed so I can skip the party, so I'm also a terrible person."
"You're not a terrible person," he said softly.
She finished her whiskey and set the glass down. "What about the other thing?"
"When someone's bent on destroying himself, eventually you run out of...passion. You still care, but you find yourself saving up your emotion for the next time, because you know it's going to happen again."
She turned onto her side to look at him. "Wow. So, that's personal experience."
"My dad drank a lot."
"Dead?"
He nodded.
"Sorry."
"I think he was glad to go. He was never a happy man. Not when I knew him, anyway."
"We're so much fun I can hardly stand it."
He smiled and drained his glass. "Life of the party."
"Want to put that to the test and come to my mother's birthday party with me? I guarantee it'll be awful."
"I will if you want me to."
She stared at him. "Really?"
"Really."
She stared some more and then yawned abruptly. "Zeller thinks you're creepy."
"A lot of people think that."
"I don't."
"Thanks. You want something to sleep in?"
They both changed for bed, Will into t-shirt and flannel pajama pants and Beverly into a t-shirt twice her size and sweatpants with the drawstring pulled tight so they wouldn't fall down. She climbed under the covers and looked at him.
"This is stupid. Just get in bed."
He hesitated. "I get nightmares."
"You think I don't?"
He switched off the lights and lay down beside her in the dark. She curled up on her side, facing away from him. For a few minutes, he didn't move, but if she wanted to be alone, she wouldn't have come. He turned onto his side and scooted up behind her, one hand very lightly on her waist.
"Okay?" he said.
She gripped his hand and pulled his arm around her. They fit together easily. Will smoothed her hair away until it stopped tickling his nose. She leaned back against him, body relaxing as she slipped into sleep. It took Will longer to drift off, but when he did, he slept until morning.