“Me three,” Jacqueline says quietly.
“Bitch, you know I would’ve been there in a second.” Vonnie wags a pointy nail in my face. “What did you do?”
“It was fine, I’m here, aren’t I?” I say at the same time TK’s big-ass mouth says, “Maxwell picked her up.”
My friends even fell in love with snakes!
“WHAT?” Poppy shouts. “That’s why he left without saying bye? And you didn’t tell me?” She glares at TK, and I use all my self-control not to blow a raspberry his way and say “nanny-nanny boo-boo.”
His eyes go wide and he holds his hands in front of his chest. “She’s your friend, I thought she’d fill you in.”
She turns to me, her pregnancy hormones making her a really scary, angry person. “Why didn’t you fill us in?”
I swear, her eyes are two seconds away from glowing red.
“Because there was nothing to fill in. He took me home and that’s it.”
“Is it, Brynn?” TK asks, his lips pursed together but laughter in his eyes. “Is that really it?”
“I hate you,” I snarl.
TK is officially the newest member occupying my shit list.
“What else happened?” Jacqueline grabs my shoulders, shocking me so much that I accidentally tell them everything.
“He picked me up, we went back to my place and watched a few episodes of Parks and Recreation because, can you believe that he’s never seen it? I mean, Leslie Knope is a freaking icon and I couldn’t let him go through life without knowing—”
“I swear to God, if you ramble one more word about that old-ass sitcom, I’m going to end you,” Vonnie says, cutting me off.
“Geez.” I look at her with big eyes, but she’s not having any of it. Dammit. “Then he went home and picked me up yesterday morning to take me to the mechanic.”
This is why I was like a secret agent going out yesterday. “No witnesses” might have to be my new life mantra.
“That’s it?” Charli narrows her eyes like she’s some kind of human lie detector.
“Yes, crazy lady!” I lie, and throw the rag at her. “Now will you leave me alone?”
“Does anyone believe her?” Aviana asks.
“No.” Poppy looks greener now than she did a minute ago, but even near vomiting, she has no problem calling me on my shit.
This is why I was fine having one friend who lives almost two thousand miles away.
“You were all up in my business with TK. If you think I’m letting you out of this easy, you are so wrong.” Poppy rushes through the last words before spinning on a flip-flop and sprinting to the bathroom.
She has a point, and as bad of a friend as it might make me, I’m so thankful she has to throw up or she’d probably see the guilt written all over my face.
“And you.” I point an unpolished, in-desperate-need-of-a-manicure finger at TK. “You need a hobby. Or a job. Go get a job.”
He throws a large hand over his chest. “You wound me, Brynny Bear.”
“Boy, you better take your fine ass to go check on Poppy.” Vonnie points to the bathroom door. “That’s your job.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” TK salutes like he wasn’t itching to run after Poppy already.
I was right, obviously.
As soon as Poppy told TK she was pregnant, he turned into her dutiful servant. When I swung by her house Monday morning to bring her a muffin from HERS, TK had a pile of pregnancy books covering their coffee table.
Poppy told me that he also bought Ace and the baby matching shirts and Jordans.
“That man.” Vonnie clucks after him, color tingeing her cheeks. “He just does something to me.”
“I’m more of a Maxwell admirer myself,” Aviana says, her eyes glued to me for a reaction.
I roll my eyes. “He’s just a friend.”
“Suuuure.” Aviana nods, tossing her glamorous locks over her shoulder.
I shake my head, pushing past them and ignoring the cackling so I can wipe down the tables like I’ve been attempting to do for the last fifteen minutes.
Twelve
“Are you out of here?” Paisley asks from behind the bar.
“I am, but call me if you need anything. I’ll just be at my dad’s so I can come back fast if anything happens.”
My dad stopped by after the Wednesday meeting had finally cleared out, and made promises of my favorite seafood spaghetti and his homemade breadsticks if I committed to dinner at his house tonight.
Obviously I said yes.
I still haven’t gone to the grocery store and I’m not sure how much longer I can live on protein bars and spoonfuls of peanut butter.
“I think I can handle it.” She waves me off. “Tell your dad I said hi.”
“Will do, see you tomorrow.” I push through the heavy all-glass door I had installed over the summer, holding it open for a group of five women, all dressed to the nines, as they file in.
Friday nights are always busy, but on a night like tonight, when the stars are out, the weather is beautiful, and the Colorado air is so crisp you just want to bottle it up, it’s extra hectic. HERS has had a steady flow of customers all day long, and when I hit the sidewalk, I see we are not alone. Fresh has started staying open later, offering Friday night poetry readings, and people of all different colors, shapes, and sizes are packed inside. The window is full of plaid, denim, and cutoff tees.
Backspin Bistro, the restaurant with Ping-Pong tables covering half of their space, has a line out the door of people waiting to either play tennis or eat. Men in beanies, even though it still has to be at least seventy degrees out, chat with women who are determined to rock their short shorts until winter tells them not to.
It’s weird to me. That all of us can come to the same places, laugh, smile, and for a moment, our lives are in sync. But then we leave and those bonds we had so casually made are severed. The women you laughed with as you both fixed your lipstick in the bathroom are forgotten. We are so intertwined, yet at the same time, so distant that no cocktail or Ping-Pong game can ever bridge the gap. But for a moment, these places change that. For a small window in our lives, differences are forgotten and the only thing that matters is being happy with whoever surrounds you.
The chiming of the bells and rumble beneath my feet alert me to the approaching light-rail train. Even though it’s across the street, I still move closer to the building. It’s like that fear that the garbage disposal will magically turn on when I stick my hand in the drain to clear whatever utensil weaseled its way down there. I don’t know why, but the train freaks me out.