Tuesday night finally arrived, and I managed to greet each of the guys at the door, though I was a total wreck inside, and couldn't look at their eyes. When Bob arrived he took one look at me, nodded, and said quietly, out of everyone's earshot, "I know what you're going through, but you can do it. Buck up."
That really did help, and I kept telling myself, 'He did it last week; You can do it, too. You owe it to him.'
What didn't help was that Nancy brought out beer and pretzels, and I could see the guys trying to hide grins of anticipation. When she disappeared back into the kitchen, though, we settled down and started playing poker.
Soon the phone rang, and Nancy told me someone named Vince needed to talk to me. When I hung up I told everyone that we had an emergency at work, and I had to be there. I told Nancy not to wait up for me; that it was going to be a long night. As I walked out the door I heard her assuring the guys that of course they could stay and finish their game. She certainly wouldn't be saying that, I thought wryly, if she had any idea what sort of game they had in mind.
Naturally I didn't really go to the office. Instead I went to the nearest bar and start getting plastered. Nearest bar because I hoped to make it home without killing myself on the road. Plastered because I hoped it would dampen the thoughts swirling through my head and deaden the pain of the knot in my stomach. It turned out that the alcohol didn't have either of the desired effects.