She opened the door to find Addison, holding a bottle of wine and a package of Oreos.
“I heard you’re being silly,” Addison said. She smiled widely. “Why do you have a tennis racket?”
Zoey slid the racket behind her back. “You’re only allowed in since you brought Oreos.”
“The only reason I can bear being vegan is because I can still eat Oreos,” she said as she closed the door. Addison’s hair was perfectly curled and she wore a poofy floral dress.
Zoey checked her watch. “It’s three o’clock. I have work at four thirty. I can’t drink,” Zoey said.
“Oh, yes, you can. Taylor cancelled your shift.”
“What? Why?” Zoey asked. She almost took her phone off airplane mode to text Taylor, but she didn’t want to see any phone calls or voicemails or texts from Jonathan. She wasn’t ready. Her head felt groggy from the sleep deprivation, and the nap she’d taken had had the opposite effect.
“Have you looked at yourself?”
Zoey was afraid. She avoided mirrors like she avoided Wi-Fi. She looked Addison up and down. She looked too good for being a week out from a breakup. “Wait, didn’t you just break up with Derek? Why are you not a mess? You haven’t gotten back together with him, have you?” There was a moment two years ago where they almost broke up for good, and everyone was excited until she announced they were back together. Everyone ate a lot of ice cream after that.
“Oh, we’re still broken up. He called the day after, but I’m done. I promise.” She smiled but she saw the sadness in her eyes. She found the corkscrew and pulled out the cork and found a plate for Oreos.
“When’s your mom coming home?” Addison asked.
“Oh, she has a date tonight,” Zoey said. “My mother hasn’t dated in five years, but she picks tonight to finally give a man a chance. Typical.”
Addison handed her a glass of wine and set the plate of Oreos down. Zoey immediately grabbed one, twisted off the top, and licked the center cream out.
“What happened with Jonathan?” Addison asked.
Zoey shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Okay,” Addison said. “Can I talk about Jonathan?”
“Have at it. I’ll just keep eating these.” Zoey ate the cookie halves and started on the second one. She took a big swig of wine.
Addison folded her hands on her lap. “We’re all very disappointed in you.”
“Who’s we?” Zoey sprayed black cookie crumbs over her dirty shirt.
Addison splayed her fingers. “Me, Taylor, Brady, Dan, Caroline…”
Zoey leaned forward. Caroline was still on her honeymoon. “Caroline?”
“Your phone hasn’t been on for a while, so Caroline called me from Bora Bora to tell you to take a chance. Like, jumping-in-freezing-Lake-Tahoe chance.”
Zoey straightened up. She could not believe that Caroline was throwing that in her face when she had graciously given her ex-boyfriend to her on a silver platter.
“I know you’re still beating yourself up over a few hiccups,” Addison said. “Everyone makes mistakes and has things that didn’t pan out. It gets you where you need to go, I think.”
“I don’t want to go to Phoenix!” Zoey shouted. Maybe if she said it, she would start to believe it. If she did want to go and kept stopping herself for some reason, then she was a freaking idiot.
“Have you ever actually been to Phoenix?” Addison said.
Zoey heard another knock at the door. Zoey stared at Addison, who pursed her lips with her glass of wine in both hands. She pointed at her. “What are you up to?”
“It’s not Jonathan,” Addison said, taking a sip. She made no effort toward the door, so Zoey stood up.
She approached the door like she was in a horror movie. “Who is it?”
“It’s Taylor.”
Zoey opened the door to find Taylor in street clothes and wearing mascara. This was unusual.
“You’re not working tonight,” Taylor said, walking past Zoey. Taylor leaned in and smelled Zoey. “You smell like a trash bin at a water park. Like one of those plastic ones baked in the sun, with nacho cheese and….”
“Thanks, Tay, Addison already told me,” Zoey said. She rubbed her head. “Why do people nap? I feel like trash.”
“And smell like trash,” Taylor said. Taylor followed Zoey into the living room.
“Hi, Addison.”
“Hi, Taylor,” Addison said. “Wine and Oreos?”
“Sure,” Taylor said. Addison got up from the couch and walked to the cupboard to get Taylor a glass.
“We’re going out,” Taylor said. She pointed to Zoey. “You’re showering, washing your goddamn hair, and getting an overpriced cocktail with us.” She walked into Zoey’s room and gasped in horror. Taylor walked back out into the living room.
“You are twenty-eight years old, young lady. What the fuck happened in your room?”
“It’s been a rough few days.”
“You’re nasty,” Taylor said.
Addison came to her defense like a goddess angel mother. “Cut her a break, Taylor. It’s been rough.”
“We are too old to live like pigs, Addison,” Taylor said. Addison smiled and took a drink of wine. Taylor looked at Zoey. “Get your ass in the shower. We have a reservation at five thirty at Calla Cellars.”
“I can’t afford Calla Cellars,” Zoey said.
“Well, thankfully, you have nice friends, you freeloader.”
“Why are you so mean today? I had a terrible day. These kids…”
“No more talking,” Taylor said, clamping her hand together like a clam closing shut. “You are coming with us. You will be clean, and you will be rocking your signature bold lip.”
“Okay,” Zoey whined as Taylor pulled off Zoey’s black polo shirt in the middle of the living room. Zoey’s bra was dingy and gray.
“Oh, that’s bad, Zoey,” Addison said.
“And you will be wearing a clean bra,” Taylor demanded. “Do you have a clean bra?”
“Yes!” Zoey shouted with exasperation as she marched upstairs. She got into the shower and lathered her hair up, made sure all the soap ran clear, and then conditioned it. She made sure to shave and buff, even taking a loofah to the bottoms of her feet. She couldn’t remember the last time she cleaned the bottom of her feet or had a pedicure.
When she emerged with a towel around her, Taylor was arranging items on the bed. Her bed was stripped of sheets, and she heard the washing machine going. Taylor had relocated their glasses of wine to the bureau. Zoey looked at the outfit Taylor picked out and couldn’t imagine herself wearing that today. It was a floral romper with her trusty cognac wedges and delicate, dangly earrings. Taylor had spread her makeup all over the counter, clearly separating out what she wanted Zoey to use.
“I am not in the mood for this,” Zoey said.
“You will wear this and come drink rosé or a delightful champagne cocktail with us.” Taylor handed her the romper and a strapless bra.
Zoey gave in. She pulled on some underwear while Taylor watched with crossed arms. They had gone to enough workout classes together that it was no big deal for her to see her naked.