The bedroom door burst open, scaring Paige so badly she nearly fell off of her desk chair. Rather than fall, she was able to right herself by doing a sort of undignified hop, which left her a few feet away from the desk.
"Are you sure you're an athlete?" Adrienne asked closing the door again behind her as she waltzed into the room. "Shouldn't you be more graceful?"
"Shh!" Paige shushed her sharply before she continued in a whisper. "Emily is sleeping."
Adrienne's eyebrows creased in confusion as she quickly looked around Paige's room. Seeing absolutely no one, she started to ask, "Wha-" but Paige cut her off with one finger over her lips and the other pointing at her laptop, which was open on the desk.
Emily's face was framed in the silver casing of Paige's computer. And as Paige had said, she was fast asleep, mouth slightly open and breathing heavily.
"You've got to be kidding me," Adrienne huffed, in a slightly softer tone.
Paige pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, then moved quickly over to Adrienne, grabbed her by the upper arm and steered her quickly into the bathroom, shutting the door behind them both.
"What are you doing here? We didn't have any plans tonight."
"Sorry," Adrienne said. She sounded genuine, but Paige never could tell with her. "I got off my shift a little early so I came by to see if you wanted to hang. Your grandma let me in. What's the big deal?"
"Emily and I have a Skype date tonight," Paige stated, still irritated. "And I'm already behind on my homework from yesterday because I let you drag me to the bar."
Adrienne stared at Paige for a moment, her eyes wide. It was clear from her expression, she thought Paige was losing it. "Dude. She's asleep."
"So?" Paige retorted.
"Seems like a pretty shitty date." Adrienne shrugged and leaned back against the counter.
"Shut up," Paige said, real fire in her eyes now. "Emily has had a rough few days, and if she needs to rest, then I am more than happy to let her sleep. I don't need her to entertain me. I'm happy just to spend time with her."
"This is exactly why I don't do relationships," Adrienne replied.
"That's fine. That's your choice," Paige said. "But you don't get to act like I'm nuts because being in one makes me happy."
"Alright, alright," Adrienne said, putting her hands up to show she was surrendering the argument. "I don't want to fight with you, okay? I'm just bummed you don't want to hang out."
Paige relaxed a bit, her shoulders un-tensing now that she didn't need to be on the defensive. "You know I like hanging out with you, but now that I'm in school, I just can't do it as often. You already have a career. I'm still trying to figure mine out."
"I get it," Adrienne said. "Nursing school was a bitch. I only had time to go out like 4 times a week."
Paige ignored the sarcastic comment and went on, "And I want to be around more at night for Em. Something's been going on with her. She seems...depressed or something. I don't know."
"What do you mean?" Adrienne asked.
Before Paige could answer, though, the sound of Emily's sleepy voice could be heard calling out from the bedroom. "Babe?"
Paige immediately reached for the door handle, opened it, and made her way through the room and back over to the desk where her girlfriend's face was peering out of the open video chat. "Hey, sleepy head," Paige grinned. Her entire demeanor had changed from the conversation she had been having in the bathroom. Her tone was soft and warm and comforting.
"Where'd you go?" Emily asked, rubbing her eyes adorably.
"Adrienne showed up unexpectedly," Paige explained. "I took her into the bathroom to talk so we wouldn't wake you."
"Oh," Emily said. "Do you need to go?"
"No," Paige answered. "Not at all. I was just throwing her out."
"She was," Adrienne piped up as she headed toward the bedroom door. "Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds. Text me when you wanna do something, Paige."
"'Kay," Paige answered with a small wave of her hand, still staring at Emily's face on the screen. She didn't even look up as she threw out a "bye."
Adrienne paused at the top of the stairs, just for a moment, looking carefully at Paige, who was completely enraptured with her barely conscious girlfriend. The corners of Adrienne's mouth turned down almost imperceptibly as she took in the sight, but she turned her head sharply and was gone before Paige had even started to tell Emily how much she wished she could kiss her.
It had been four days and Emily hadn't found a job yet. Nor had she been able to bring herself to tell Paige about her forced leave of absence from Vallance. She hadn't told anyone about it, as a matter of fact. Each morning she got up, got dressed, ate a single granola bar for breakfast, and pretended to leave for class. Sometimes the other girls were up and about, getting ready for their respective days, but sometimes it was just Emily. The only difference during the mornings on which Emily was alone was that she didn't have to walk around the block before heading into town to make it look like she was going to campus. She wasn't even sure why she was doing it. She just had a burning need to keep this secret, to keep the shame her own and not let anyone else see it. She sometimes felt like she was over complicating things whenever she thought about her situation and how she felt about it, which was nearly constantly. In the end, her thoughts always led her down to the same solid foundation: embarrassment. And the longer she kept it a secret, the more daunting it seemed to tell anyone. She tried to convince herself that once she found a job she wouldn't feel so awful about the whole thing, but there was a kernel of doubt in her mind that she couldn't shake off.
Later that night, after she and Paige had finished their date, Emily was just beginning a Google search for jobs in town when there was a knock at the top of the basement stairs. Her door was open, which meant that the person standing the shadowy doorway was certainly Jo. Eden and Charlie rarely knocked when the door was closed and never when it was open.
"Hey," Emily called up, shutting her laptop quickly in case Jo came down. "What's up?"
"Do you want to have a beer with me?" Jo asked. "If you're not busy?"
"Sure," Emily answered. "I could use a drink."
"Have your classes been hard?" Jo inquired after Emily had climbed the stairs and joined her in the kitchen.
"Just a rough few days," Emily said dismissively.
Jo grabbed the six pack of Budweiser she had bought off the counter and led Emily into the living room.
"Holy shit," Emily whispered, her eyes going wide as they walked into the room. "Charlie wasn't fucking around."
"I know," Jo agreed, chuckling. "It's like the inside of a Christmas tree in here."
Charlie had apparently "rescued" an old box full of Christmas lights over the break that her mother was planning to throw away. The night before, when Emily had gone to bed Charlie was climbing on various furniture with a hammer and mouthful of nails, tacking them in wherever she could reach. Now there were about 30 strands swirling and zigzagging and twisting all over the walls and ceiling of the room. It was absolute chaos, but it was also kind of magical.
"It looks TERRIBLE when they're off," Jo commented kicking off her boots and settling down on the couch under an electric blanket. "But this is definitely cool." She leaned her head back against the sofa, soaking in all the colors twinkling and swirling around the room.
"Yeah," Emily said, grinning and turning in place so she could take in all 360 degrees of the room before she sat down. She let out a laugh, feeling marginally lighter than she had for the past few days.
Jo pulled up a side of the blanket and Emily gladly joined her underneath it. The Log was maybe not the best-made house. It was drafty and in the winter the house seemed nearly impossible to keep warm, especially at night. That's why they always kept three or four electric blankets out on the sectional. Emily was careful after she had sat down cross-legged beside Jo to tuck the blanket around her toes.
"When I buy my first house," Jo mused as she used the opener she kept on her keyring to uncap two of the beers, "it's going to have a fireplace in every room. 3 layers of insulation in the walls. And no windows."
"You could just move somewhere warm," Emily suggested. "California, Florida…"
"The sun," Jo finished for her, taking a giant gulp from her bottle.
"There you go," Emily laughed.
The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, shoulders touching, knees touching under the blanket. Emily wasn't sure how long they sat there just drinking and not talking. Time seemed to slow. Somewhere in the middle of her second beer, Emily started to feel warm and syrupy, like she was sinking into the leather of the couch. It was lovely.
"I had a brother, you know," Jo stated, more to the universe than to Emily.
In fact, Jo wasn't looking at Emily at all. She seemed lost in thought.
There were pictures on Jo's bedroom wall that Emily had noticed over the years, family portraits from when Jo was very small. Emily knew that her mother had died when Jo was a teenager, but she'd never spoken of her brother in the three years that Emily had known her.
"He died when he was 10. In the summer. He drowned," Jo went on.
"Oh, Jo," Emily muttered quietly under her breath without meaning to speak at all.
"It was so long ago, that sometimes, it doesn't seem real. He doesn't feel real. Or maybe...it's like I'm not sure what parts of him were real anymore. I still think about him so often, but it's not memories. It's always abstract. I wonder about him, about what he would have been like now. I imagine what it would be like if he were here. But it's...that's not really him. Not who he was, you know? I always hated when people would tell me that I could keep his memory alive. God that would piss me off. Because memories aren't alive. They aren't the real thing. They're just…" Jo trailed off and took another drink of her beer.
"What do you think he'd be like?" Emily asked.
Jo turned to her finally, and Emily was a bit surprised to see that she was smiling.
"I think he'd drink beer," Jo answered. " I think we'd drink together like this."
"What was his name?" Emily asked then, accepting the new bottle Jo handed to her.
"Jonathan," Jo told her quietly and Emily thought the name sounded a bit brittle. "But…"
"What?" Emily encouraged her friend when Jo shook her head slightly.
"I just think he would have started going by Nathan, eventually. Maybe in high school. He always hated when people called him Jon."
"To Nathan, then," Emily said raising her bottle just slightly.
"Mmmm," Jo hummed in agreement, but she didn't say his name again before clinking her bottle against Emily's.
They both drank.
Emily was expecting that they would both lapse back into silence but Jo spoke again just a few seconds later.
"They posted the cast list after classes this afternoon."
Emily had completely forgotten that was happening today, she'd meant to text the girls and ask which parts they'd been cast as.
"And?" Emily prodded, her eyebrows raised.
"Eden is the mother, Hannah Pitt, in Part 2 and Charlie is the Angel in Part 2. They get to make out on stage. They're both very pleased." Jo chuckled dryly. "Oh, and Tuck was cast as Prior, of course. We all knew he'd get that."
Emily pressed, "But, who are you? Is it a speaking role?"
Jo took a long drink and let out a deep sigh before answering.
"I'm the doctor, Henry," Jo told her. And after a pregnant pause, added, "They cast me as a man, Em."
"Well, that's...that's okay," Emily said cautiously, trying to read Jo's mood before she said anything more.
"He has a lot of lines, " Jo said, and Emily thought she looked a bit green, but a moment later she still managed to throw back the rest of her beer in a few desperate gulps. "For me, I mean. It's a lot of lines."
"I can help you," Emily stated without missing a beat. "We all will. We'll go over it until you can say them in your sleep. Don't worry."
"I feel kind of weird, Em," Jo whispered. "I feel…"
"Drunk?" Emily supplied, trying to lighten the mood of whatever was happening.
Jo looked at her finally, face so crumpled with concerned that Emily actually felt a little scared.
"Can I sleep with you tonight?" Jo asked. Her eyes were glistening slightly and Emily thought she might start crying at any moment.
"Of course," Emily answered, worry for her friend growing by the second.
"Can we go to bed now?" Jo sounded like she was pleading with her.
"Yes." Emily stood up quickly and found she was a bit dizzy but ignored the feeling. She set their bottles on the coffee table, switched the blanket off, and then held out both of her hands to Jo.
Jo placed both of her hands into Emily's, closing her eyes as she did so, taking in a long, shaky breath. Emily pulled her up, wrapped an arm around her waist, and led her it of the room. Neither of them stopped to turn the lights off.
Down in the basement, Emily found a simple t-shirt and pair of shorts for Jo to change into. She knew her friend well enough to occupy herself while Jo stripped off her clothes. Emily pulled the various open and dog-eared books and laptop off her bed, making sure her back was to Jo as she changed. After the detritus was removed, she attempted to straighten her sheets and comforter out, giving the blanket a good shake to make sure there were no crumbs on it. Emily felt as if she'd been decomposing the past few days and her bedroom looked accordingly. She continued to worry over the state of the bed until Jo came around and climbed into the other side.
Emily was already wearing her pajamas. She'd changed into them as soon as she gotten home from that day's wash of a job search, so all she had to do was click off the lamp beside her bed.
The room felt a bit like a tomb, Emily thought, chilly and pitch black and silent. She didn't want it to feel like that, but it did. She wondered if Jo felt it. She turned to try and see her friend, who she knew was just beside her on the queen size mattress, but her eyes had not yet had enough time to adjust to the dark. She couldn't even make out the shape of Jo. She wanted to try to get a read on her, which was difficult in broad daylight sometimes, but it seemed nearly impossible now that she couldn't see her face. Emily had a feeling, though, that Jo wasn't feeling like talking anymore, so instead, Emily scootched over until she located Jo's body.
"Roll over," she instructed and felt Jo move on to her side so that her back was toward Emily.
Emily scooted a bit more and situated herself behind Jo as the big spoon, her right arm wrapped around Jo's waist.
"Okay?" she asked simply.
"Okay," Jo responded, giving Emily's hand a squeeze.
With that, Emily closed her eyes and before long, fell asleep.
Emily woke up the next morning when someone turned on her overhead light. She shut her eyes more tightly and groaned, trying to burrow into her blankets. She thought it was probably Jo getting up, but then the light-turner-oner flopped down in the bed next to her and Emily knew it was Charlie from the smell of her shampoo. She cracked open one eye and sure enough, there was Charlie, grinning widely at her, her slightly damp brown hair fanned out over Emily's pillow.
"Hi," Charlie chirped.
"What time is it?" Emily mumbled.
"7:45 am."
"Why are you in my bed?" Emily wondered aloud.
"Well, first of all," Charlie said, much louder than necessary considering they were nose to nose. "I can't believe you had a sleepover and didn't invite me. I could understand if you didn't want Eden to come because she's a complete blanket hog and sometimes sings in her sleep, but I am a contentious and generous bedfellow. You can ask anyone."
"Eden told me you drool," Emily smirked, her eyes still closed.
"Well that is just ludicrous," Charlie huffed, "and shame on you for believing her."
"She thinks it's cute," Emily went on, "the way you sleep with your mouth wide open."
"I'm sure it's adorable," Charlie stated, without a hint of sarcasm, "but you're steering us off topic, Em."
"My apologies," Emily responded, opening her eyes in earnest now. "You have the floor."
"Thank you," Charlie continued. "As I was saying...um...oh yeah! Tuck is mad at you."
"What? Why?"
"Because we've been back at school for like a week now and he hasn't seen you or spoken to you."
"Well, I haven't seen him or spoken to him, either!" Emily retorted, her argument not quite as eloquent as it might have been if she was fully awake.
"He said he sent you three texts and you never responded." Charlie shot her down.
"Oh...yeah, he did," Emily admitted, remembering now Tuck's multiple attempts to contact her. She'd been so preoccupied and desperate to get a job, that she'd completely forgotten to respond to him each time he'd reached out. "I suck."
"We've got our first rehearsal tonight now that everyone's been cast," Charlie informed her, "but after that Tuck is coming over and we're going to celebrate being the coolest people on the planet and you can beg his forgiveness then, okay?"
Emily rubbed her eyes distractedly and felt the familiar sensation of dread settle into her stomach, as it had since her first day back on campus, now coupled with the guilt of having ignored one of her best friends. She sat up and let her head fall into her hands.
"Em?" The usual joking lilt in Charlie's voice had given way to a more serious tone. "Are you alright? You know Tuck's not really mad at you, right? He just wants to see you."
"I...I know. But I still feel bad," Emily responded, dodging the inquiry.
Charlie didn't look exactly convinced, but Eden called out to her just as she was opening her mouth to say something.
"We've gotta go!" Eden shouted from the hall above.
"We'll be home around 9 tonight, okay?" Charlie said as she took off for the stairs. "And we left you some french toast on the stove. We used this loaf of Challah Eden picked up and it's so fucking good, Em. You have to try it! See you tonight!"
Charlie dashed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and was gone before Emily even had time to shout a quick thank you to her. She heard the front door creak open and then slam shut and the house was silent once again.
A few states to the east, Paige was just starting to cook breakfast for herself and Grandma Hazel. She could hear her grandmother futzing about in the breakfast room but didn't go to check on her as she would have only a couple of months ago. Hazel had been improving steadily since she'd been released from the hospital November. Her dedication to doing her rehab exercises each day had really paid off and, with the help of her walker, she could now sit, stand, and move from room to room by herself. She couldn't remain standing for very long or do any of the household chores anymore, but she could dress and even shower on her own while sitting in the shower chair the doctor had prescribed for her. Paige still insisted on helping her into and out of the shower because it was such a big step, but other than that, she felt comfortable allowing her grandmother to be as independent as possible.
Paige was just beginning to fry the first few pancakes when she heard the telltale sounds of Hazel's approach; the crinkly, plastic rolling of two small wheels, the soft drag of the tennis balls that covered the two back legs of the walker, her grandmother's shuffling house slippers, and the quiet puffing rhythm that Haze's had begun to breathe in since she started using the walker.
"Could you grab the juice from the icebox, dear?" Hazel asked. "I can't taste the pills as much as when I take them with water."
Hazel made a grimacing face as she caught Paige's eye, making her laugh.
"You know, these are called refrigerators now," Paige teased as she grabbed the bottle of orange juice and moved to the cabinet to get out two glasses.
"Old habits die hard," Hazel mused and gave her granddaughter a little pinch on the arm as came up beside her.
"Ouch!" Paige laughed.
"Don't sass your grandma!" Hazel chuckled.
"Okay, okay," Paige surrendered, handing Hazel her morning pills and then the glass of juice.
She waited dutifully for Hazel to swallow the pills, then took the rest of the juice, along with her own glass through to the table in the breakfast room.
"Pancakes are burning," Hazel said, moving over to the range and picking up the spatula, turning the pancakes over almost as easily as Paige remembered her doing on so many mornings of her childhood.
"I'll get that, you sit down." Paige hurried back over to the stove and surveyed the pancakes. They were a bit past what one might consider "golden brown." Hazel handed over the spatula and made her way back to the table, easing herself into the wooden chair in which she always sat. For Christmas, Paige had bought a thick memory foam cushion covered in yellow fabric to replace the flat, pale pink one that she was sure Hazel had been sitting on since before Paige had been born.
Paige smiled broadly as she heard Hazel lower herself into the chair and huff happily, "It's like sitting on a cloud!" She commented on the wonder that was memory foam at least once a week and Paige had already purchased a pair of memory foam slippers for Hazel's birthday that summer. They were tucked away in her closet upstairs. Paige couldn't wait to hear her ooh and ahh over them when she gave them to her.
Paige continued to amuse herself with thoughts of the slippers as she finished cooking the pancakes and loaded them onto two plates.
"These look delicious," Hazel remarked when Paige set a plate down in front of her.
"Thank you," Paige replied. "I learned from the best."
"Speaking of which," Hazel said, "I think it's time I pass this on to you." She reached over and picked up the small, metal recipe box that was sitting near her on the table. It was often out and about, in and around the kitchen when she was growing up, so Paige hadn't given it a second thought when she'd seen it on the table that morning. She'd thought Hazel might ask her to cook a certain recipe or teach her one they'd never made together before, but give her the entire box? Her grandma might have been handing her a box full of gold, as far as she was concerned.
"My days of cooking are over, honey," Hazel told her. "You're the one doing all the meals around here now. It only seems right. I want you to have it."
Hazel picked the box up now and placed it in Paige's hands. It was a careworn object, for certain, but still beautiful, Paige thought. She'd often admired it as a child. It was painted yellow with a plum tree design. The branches wound around the top and sides, heavy with their purple fruit. On the top, the word Recipes was painted in black cursive.
"My mother gave that to me as a wedding present," Hazel explained as Paige opened the lid and began to look through the recipe cards inside. "She wrote out some of our family recipes so I could make them for Frank."
"Are they still in here?" Paige asked, amazed.
"Sure are," Hazel answered. "That's mother's handwriting there." Hazel pulled out a card that said "Brisket" at the top and Paige carefully read through the recipe. It was a bit difficult to make out some of the words, but she got the gist of it.
Paige also recognized Hazel's writing among the cards, her own mother's, aunts, and even what looked like might have been her father's handwriting from when he was much younger.
"Thank you so much, Grandma. This is incredible." Paige couldn't think of what else to say.
"You're very welcome," Hazel smiled. "And be sure to share that with Tuck if he ever feels like making more than a sandwich."
"I will," Paige chuckled. "I'll make him help me sometimes." She was still holding the recipe for brisket and she angled it toward her grandmother now, asking. "Could we make it this weekend?"
"Only if you finish your homework first, young lady," Hazel retorted in a faux stern voice, waving her finger. Then she added in an undertone, "And you pick out a dessert to make, too." She gave Paige a wink.
"Deal!" Paige blurted out happily. She stuck out her hand so that they could shake on it, but Hazel grabbed her by the face and pulled her in, giving her a loud kiss on the cheek.
"You want a job." The small, balding man sitting behind the counter was staring at Emily like she was crazy.
"Yes," Emily answered. "If you have any openings."
"You want a job," he said again in a monotone. "Here." At this, he gestured around the large room, which was completely devoid of any people.
"Um…" Emily hesitated, looking around at the rows and rows of DVDs that were displayed neatly on the metal shelves that filled the building. "Yes?"
"No one rents DVDs anymore," Richard, as his nametag read, explained to Emily in a tone that clearly indicated he thought she was an idiot and he might next have to tell her that the sky was blue.
"Right," Emily replied tersely. "Sorry to waste your time."
"If you can make people start renting movies again, I'd love to give you the job," Richard went on, throwing his arms wide. "Hell, you can take the damn place over if you can manage that."
Emily didn't bother responding, she just gave the man a small nod and forced smile and headed toward the exit, pulling the hood of her coat back up and over her ears. The video store had been her tenth stop of the day inquiring about open positions. She hadn't really expected to find a job there, but she was desperate and freezing cold. She'd mostly gone in because her toes were starting to go numb, and once she was inside she'd figured she might as well ask. That had clearly been a mistake. She should have just perused the videos until she warmed up.
As she stepped outside a frigid blast of wind caught her full in the face, taking her breath away. She lowered her head and walked as quickly as she could down the street to the next establishment, not really bothering to look up at the building or the sign as she pushed open the door and moved into the warmth.
"Welcome to Dairy Queen," a polite, chipper voice greeted Emily as she pulled off her hood again and looked up, meeting the eyes of the middle-aged woman standing behind the counter. "What can I get for you?"
Emily knew what the answer would be before she asked it, but forced herself to ask it nevertheless. "Are you hiring, by any chance?"
"No, not right now," the woman said, leaning over and resting her elbows on the counter. "Come back in May if you're still looking. That's when we really start getting busy. We just operate with a skeleton crew in the winter."
"May," Emily repeated dejectedly. "You don't sell coffee here, do you?" she went on, hoping for something that might warm her up a bit.
"Sure, we sell coffee," the woman said, though she made no move to stand up and enter the order on the register, and Emily understood why when the woman cocked one of her eyebrows up and finished by saying, "but it's all ICED."
Emily let out a long sigh, her shoulders dropping, every bone in her body aching. "Can I just...sit down for awhile?"
"Knock yourself out," the woman replied, gesturing at the empty red booths spaced evenly around the restaurant.
Emily slumped gratefully into the booth nearest to her, folded her arms on top of the table, laid her head down, and tried very hard not start crying in the middle of the Dairy Queen.
She woke up abruptly when someone shook her shoulder.
"Hey, lady," a teenage boy was standing beside Emily.
"W-what?" Emily stuttered out, casting her eyes around, completely disoriented. It was dark outside.
"We thought you might be dead," the guy told her. "My manager sent me over to tell you that you need to leave now."
Emily looked over at the counter where the same woman was standing, but now her arms were crossed and she didn't look amused or friendly in the slightest.
"When I said 'Knock yourself out' it was an expression," the woman called over to her.
"Sorry," Emily muttered, scooting out of the booth. She was mortified. She couldn't believe she'd fallen asleep in Dairy Queen. What was the matter with her?
She made a beeline for the door, intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible and never, ever, showing her face there again.
"Hey!" the woman shouted at her. "Hold on a second. Come here."
Emily turned around to face her but hesitated. The woman must have noticed because she unfolded her arms and made a placating gesture. "I'm not gonna bite you, hun."
Emily walked up to the counter, not sure what to expect, trying to look as confident and dignified as her current predicament would allow.
"A girlfriend of mine works over at the Calico Cat," the woman began. "It's that little knick knack shop over on Sycamore, just past Arnaz's Pub, across from the train station. She told me they're looking for a girl to run the jewelry counter during the day. If you're interested, go over tomorrow around 10 am and ask for Shonda. Tell her you're the girl who fell asleep in the Dairy Queen. She'll know who you are."
"She will?" Emily questioned, her eyes wide and confused.
"I texted her a pic of you when you fell asleep. We got to talking and we both feel kinda sorry for you," the woman explained.
Emily couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Oh my god," she stammered. "Seriously? Thank you! Thank you so much!" She made a move toward the woman, wanting to hug her, to show her, somehow, what this meant and how grateful she was, but the woman stepped back and held up her hands.
"Hey, why don't you just order some chicken fingers or something," the woman suggested.
"Oh, yeah," Emily said, trying to calm down. "Sorry. Um," Emily scanned the menu. "I'll have the bacon cheeseburger meal. Please."
The woman cocked an eyebrow at her. She seemed to be waiting for something.
"To go," Emily added quickly.
"Mmmhmmm," the woman agreed and put her order into the register.
Thankfully, the house was still dark when Emily got home. She didn't want to have to explain why she was walking in with a bag of cold Dairy Queen food and the imprint of her coat sleeve still fading off the side of her face from her two and half hour nap.
Emily spent an hour or so eating her burger and texting with Paige, who wanted Emily's help deciding what dessert she should try out that weekend from her "new" box of old family recipes. After Paige had explained a few of the things she was itching to try out, they decided on Black Bottom Cupcakes, which were chocolate sponge on the bottom and a sour cream vanilla sponge on the top. Paige also sent her a few selfies of her and Grandma Hazel hanging out and studying on the couch together and making silly faces. They made Emily's heart ache for what the future might hold for them and terrified that she was screwing it up even now. But Paige looked so happy and she was so excited to spend the weekend cooking and Emily put off telling her girlfriend about her troubles for another day. Next week, Emily promised herself as she and Paige set up a cooking Skype date for the following afternoon. She would tell Paige everything next week.
After that Emily did a quick clean up of the living room, throwing about 10 pairs of discarded shoes into the hall closet and picking up trash. She had to make three trips to the sink with tottering piles of dirty dishes but didn't have the energy to wash them. Instead, she collapsed on the couch and helped herself to the leftover beer she and Jo had abandoned the night before. One of the bottles was open and only half finished and there was another which was unopened. Emily finished them both and then went back to the kitchen and looked in the freezer for more alcohol. She just wanted to get to that warm, happy place that happened right before she got truly drunk. That's what she told herself anyway, that she just wanted to forget her troubles for awhile. It was Friday night after all. In a moment of foresight, she set an alarm on her phone for 9 am to make sure she'd have time to get over to the Calico Cat by 10 the next morning. Then she poured herself a shot of whiskey.
"My friends are here!" Emily yelled when the front door opened and let in a gust of terribly cold wind but also her 4 best friends. She maybe, probably, was already past that warm, buzzed place and just plain drunk. "My thespian friends!" Emily shouted. Then added, a look of delight on her face, "And my lesbian friends! Friend," she clarified, flouncing over to the group and poking Jo in the stomach. "I'm a lesbian friend," she added then, poking herself in the stomach. "We are two."
"Well, I was intent on being mad at you tonight," Tuck announced as everyone peeled off their coats, hats, and gloves, "but you're clearly already drunk and acting adorable so the effect would be lost on you."
"I love you, tooooo!" Emily cooed and threw her arms around him, throwing him off balance so that his focus was shifted toward the ceiling.
"What the fuck happened in here?" Tuck asked staring up at all the Christmas lights crisscrossing above him, Emily's arms still wrapped around his neck.
"I happened!" Charlie shouted. She was loud even when she wasn't intoxicated.
"She's a very happening gal," Eden confirmed. "I'm ordering pizza. What do you guys want?"
Everyone chorused out what toppings they wanted, Charlie demanding stuffed crust, Emily begging for black olives, Jo politely requesting a plain cheese, and Tuck suggesting a meat lovers, which just resulted in Charlie screaming "You love penis!" until Jo went and retrieved the tequila just to shut her up. Eden, of course, thought they should order veggie pizzas, and soon she had lapsed into an explanation of how bell peppers come in male and female varieties and you can tell which is which based on how many lobes they have. No one believed her and everyone was unnaturally quiet for about 15 minutes while they all researched bell peppers on their phones, during which time, Eden snuck away and ordered the pizzas, which meant they were all going to be vegetarian. So they decided that for her penance Eden had to take three shots of tequila and wash enough plates for them to eat on. Eden was happy to do the shots, but rather than washing the dishes, she whispered something into Charlie's ear that had the twofold effect of making Charlie's eyes go as big as saucers and causing her to scurry off to the kitchen to wash the dishes.
"You are so powerful," Emily said in awe as Charlie ran out of the room.
"I am," Eden agreed, nodding sagely. The tequila may have been starting to take effect.
"But you were wrong about the peppers," Emily told her very seriously. "Peppers are genderless beings."
"Ah, but maybe I knew that already," Eden said in a flowy voice, "and I only made the claim to distract you all long enough to order the pizzas that I wanted."
"You inspire me," Emily told her, "every day."
"I know," Eden replied.
"I am way too sober for this nonsense," Jo mused, rolling her eyes and following Charlie into the kitchen, presumably to pour herself a much-needed drink.
By the time the pizza arrived, which turned out to be two large veggies and one plain cheese for Jo, everyone was feeling pretty good. Jo was on her second gin and tonic, Tuck was enjoying a $7 bottle of gas station blackberry wine in his favorite mug, and the other three had just been shooting whiskey. They made short work of the pizza and when everyone's plates were empty, Charlie turned to Eden with an expectant look on her face.
"Now?" she asked her girlfriend, bouncing up and down on the sofa cushion. "Can we do it now?"
Eden nodded enthusiastically in response and Charlie ran off up the stairs.
"What's happening?" Jo asked.
"Well," Eden began, her eyes sparkling, "for Christmas, Charlie and I went in on a present for each other."
"You gave yourselves a joint present to yourselves?" Tuck laughed.
"Yes, we did." Eden stated, then added, "I'm still not sure where to send the thank-you card."
Jo rolled her eyes at that.
"I should probably go help her, actually. There's a lot of parts to it." Eden headed toward the stairs, too.
"I figured you'd just promised her that you'd finally try anal," Jo commented.
"How did you know about that?" Eden asked curiously, stopping with her hand on the banister.
"We share a wall," Jo shrugged.
"Ah," Eden nodded. "So we do. Alas, we're still in the negotiation phase of that particular venture."
"What is there to negotiate?" Tuck asked.
"More than you would think," Eden said honestly. "I'm very detail oriented. I think Charlie was going to talk to you about it actually."
"You're our resident expert on anal!" Charlie shouted from the top of the stairs.
"Fair enough," Tuck shrugged and sipped his wine.
"Please tell me how that conversation goes," Emily laughed, leaning her head onto Tuck's shoulder.
He nodded at her, "Oh, I will."
"I mean, for instance," Charlie said, struggling through the doorway with a speaker and various black cords in her arms. "Do you think 9 inches is too big?"
"YES!" Tuck, Jo, and Emily chorused together, their faces aghast.
"See? I told you!" Charlie shouted in the general vicinity of the ceiling.
"Mind over matter!" came Eden's reply.
"Which one of you is going to be receiving?" Tuck questioned, looking confused.
"That's part of the further negotiations," Charlie informed him, beginning to set things up.
"You bought a karaoke machine, didn't you?" Jo laughed.
"Yeah, we did!" Charlie replied with exuberance. "It's got 4 microphones and two speakers and you can just use it with a laptop or whatever, with Youtube!"
"Wow," Jo said in an amused tone as Eden walked in the door with another speaker and small mixing board. "How much did this all cost?"
"Only like $300," Eden chimed in. "A real bargain! For hours of family fun!"
"You have to promise to sing some songs that aren't show tunes, Edie," Emily told her, foreseeing how the evening might turn into something that more closely resembled a Broadway review than a bunch of drunk college kids singing karaoke.
"I will make no such promises!" Eden declared. "And how dare you even suggest such a thing!"
Eden and Charlie worked together to set all the equipment up and soon they were all taking turns singing and laughing uproariously at one another.
Two hours later, as Charlie tried to convince Jo to duet Summer Nights with her and Eden finished her second song from Les Miserables, Emily felt her mind surfacing a bit from the haze of alcohol she had sunk into earlier in the night.
Tuck seemed to sense this, and asked, "You want me to see if we have any more of that marshmallow vodka?"
Emily considered it but shook her head, declining. "Nah, I'm alright." For the first time all week, sobering up seemed like it might be more pleasurable than being drunk.
