6.07 Twenty-One is The Loneliest Number. Much, much later that night.
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An ipod.
An ipod and a string of pearls.
An ipod, a digital camera, and a string of pearls.
An ipod, a digital camera, a cd, and a string of pearls.
An ipod, a digital camera, a cd, a leather journal, and a string of pearls.
An ipod, a digital camera, a cd, a leather journal, a pair of tickets for Der Rosenkavalier at The Met,
and a string of pearls.
An ipod, a digital camera, a cd, a leather journal, a pair of tickets for Der Rosenkavalier at The Met,
a vintage necklace (which warms her right through to remember,) and a string of pearls.
An ipod, a digital camera, a cd, a leather journal, a pair of tickets for Der Rosenkavalier at The Met,
a vintage necklace, a Waterford vase, and a string of pearls.
An ipod, a digital camera, a cd, a leather journal, a pair of tickets for Der Rosenkavalier at The Met,
a vintage necklace, a Waterford vase, a Coach wallet, and a string of pearls...
(She does a shot every time she remembers 'string of pearls' No one noticed the bottle of vodka gone she snuck... sneaked? ---took from the bar. Hee. Snuck is a funny word, rhymes with...)
Oh! Almost forgot: Engraved Monogrammed Stationery.
And; a Mont Blanc pen, three Irish linen handkerchiefs, an Hermes scarf, and a bottle of Cristal...
(Another shot for good measure. What the hell? She's alone in her room—the upstairs one which isn't hers at all really, anyway.A Backstreet Boys posterGeez. And, hey, does she even have a real room anymore? Is a strange, hungry, and hopefully not dead dog sleeping in it right now? Wait a minute. No. Not hers, that room. Twenty-one year olds don't live at home...)
Let's see... What else? What else?
What else can she remember as the bed spins below her in the dark, silent, perfect, pink room...
Oh! The antique inkwell and writing desk from Tweenie.
Jesus, what a lot of thank you notes. There goes all that engraved stationery.
(she did a shot for that.)
But there still sits that gift from her.
Right there. Didn't open that one yet.
No, shehas not.
Emily was too tired to notice (can't open gifts in front of the guests, Rory, we don't live in a trailer park, after all...)
So she'd hidden it away until Emily and Richard were down for the night.
(she listened then to Richard snore through the wall and did a shot for that too.)
But now, if she could just sit up, she'd could open her mother's present.
Her twenty-first birthday present from her mother.
(a quick shot on the way to the end of the bed where the present sits—it's a very large bed.)
Final Tally: An ipod, a digital camera, a cd, a leather journal, a pair of tickets for Der Rosenkavaklier at The Met, a vintage necklace, a Waterford vase, a Coach wallet, Engraved Stationery, a Mont Blanc pen, three Irish linen handkerchiefs, an Hermes scarf, a bottle of Cristal, an antique inkwell and writing desk, three books about wine, two about modern sculpture, a hot water bottle (what the hell?)...
And (now, at last, as she ripped off the ribbon and lifted the lid:) A videotape (vhs) of the CopRock Series Premiere (original commercials intact;) The purple My Little Pony (cause who'd want the pink?) Twenty-one packages of Abba Zabbas (the large ones)...
And...
(on the bottom wrapped specially in silver tissue)
A first edition autographed copy of 'My Life' by Rosa Parks...
Which is when she began to cry so hard, and in such large gulping sobs, that she had to wrap her arms around herself and rock a little, forgetting the game then, forgetting to remember 'the string of pearls' and the sushi, and the shots...
Wanting so badly to just go home.