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Alice narrows her eyes at me suspiciously again.
“That is not some kind of metaphor for my perfectly normal three way relationship by the way”, I insist.
“It’s a relationship now?” Alice asks. “I thought you guys were going slowly.”
“I’m designing the treasure map”, I say excitedly, ignoring Alice’s ironic skepticism. “Well part of it.”
“That’s your job now? I’m so jealous.”
“Not entirely, no”, I confess. “I’m also working on a film.”
“A film?”
I feel guilty just thinking about it. Alice works her ass off and gets paid hardly anything while I’m living the life of my dreams. “Jack wants me to come up with some original ideas.”
Alice raises an eyebrow. “I bet he does.”
“No, not like that”, I say, suppressing a giggle. “Although that too. Ideas for a comic book film.”
“Fucking hell , Penny. What else are you going to tell me next? You’ve won the lottery, you’ve discovered a cure for ageing, you left the house this morning without returning.”
I can feel myself going red. “I know”, I say. “I’ve got to be the luckiest person in the world.”
“You know, I joke around because I care about you and we’re friends, but I’m happy for you, really happy. You look happy. Happier than you’ve looked in a seriously long time. And I don’t think I’ve ever used the word happy so often in one go. You deserve it. I know things haven’t been great for you for a while and everything else, so you really deserve it.”
“Thank you, Alice, that means a lot.”
“Just don’t forget about me when you become a super famous comic book artist. I know your sexy humble beginnings remember. If you sell me out I’ll start running tours in all the subways and bars you’ve left your spunky marks.”
“Alice!” I remonstrate, “You wouldn’t.”
“That depends on how well you behave”, she says.
“I’d never leave you behind. Where else would I buy my flowers?”
“Ooof, don’t remind me. Just make sure it’s not for a wedding, okay? I don’t want to do another of those for at least a hundred years.”
“It might be another hundred years before they make it legal”, I say. “So I think you’re okay.”
“It might be a hundred years before I finish this one”, Alice responds. “Who invites five hundred guests to a wedding and then insists that the whole place is absolutely covered in so many flowers it looks like a botanic garden?”
“People with more money than you and me”, I say. “At least it’s good for the business.”
“It’s definitely not good for my hands”, Alice complains, holding up her palms to me. “I don’t think people understand sometimes that flowers don’t magically appear out of thin air in delightful bouquets and carefully weaved wreaths, and nor are they always in season. You can’t expect cornflowers and dahlias to be available in spring if they don’t come into bloom until summer.”
“Exactly”, I say, having no idea what either of those two flowers look like. “That happens all the time with anything artistic. People look at the finished product, and have no idea how much time goes into making it. It’s hard work being creative.”
Alice finishes the last dregs of her coffee.
“You want another?” I ask her.
“I want to stay here all afternoon, complain about the job that I love when someone isn’t phoning me every thirty minutes to find out where their parrot tulips are, and listen to you tell me in minute detail exactly what Logan and Jack look like naked, but unfortunately, I don’t have the time. I have to get all of this done before the end of the day otherwise I’ll have to come in tomorrow as well, and you know how much I love my bed.”
“No-one should work on a Sunday”, I say. “Francis didn’t even make me do that at the comic book store. Sundays are for nostalgic films, ice cream and anal sex.”
Alice looks at me jealously. “I wish my sundays were like that. They’re not exactly my type, but if you ever find your hands too full you can always let me borrow one of your twins if you like.”
I widen my eyes at her.
“Alright”, Alice says, her hands up in the air passively. “I’ll just stick with Tinder.”
I finish my coffees, and make sure all the three coffee cups are aligned before we leave. Outside, without even considering to begin walking back to the shop until she knows I’m ready, Alice leans up against the wall and waits for the moment to arise.
“I’m just going to-”, I say, half way through the script before I open the door I’ve shut only seconds before, head back inside to where we were just sat to look on, around and under the table for something I know in the back of my head has no chance of being there.
Alice loops her arm in mine as I reemerge and together we walk back towards the florists like two old ladies forming a shopping shield on sales day.
“I’m happy to stick around and help”, I say. “I don’t have to meet Mom until later.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll probably be faster without you to be honest. If you’re here I’ll just get distracted.”
“You make me sound like a bad influence.”
“Well, you do like to vandalize walls with porn”, Alice jokes.
“Erotic drawings”, I correct her. “They are works of art.”
“And bury skulls”, Alice goes on.
“That was an educational experiment”, I say.
“And have sex with two men at once-.”
“You’re just jealous.”
“You’re right”, Alice says. “I’m just jealous. Who wouldn’t be? Either one of those men would be heaven on their own, but two, that’s just out of this world.”
“I promise I’ll tell you more next week”, I say.
We’re back at the shop, Alice behind the counter already with a bunch of flowers in her hands that could be dahlias or just as easily parrot tulips for all I know. The way she falls into what she does with such automatic routine makes me think of myself when I have a sharpie in my hand.
“Just make sure there’s still something to tell”, Alice says. “I don’t want to find out Jack and Logan have decided to abandon you.”
“That’s not going to happen”, I say, absolutely convinced it won’t. “Mom’s got more chance of bringing back the holy grail.”
“You should thank her for bringing back Mr. Money Bags”, she says. “Without him, you wouldn’t have met Jack in the first place or Logan again.”
“I don’t think that was what she had in mind”, I say.
“I don’t think it was what anyone had in mind but you”, Alice says, and then with a cheeky smile, “I still can’t believe you managed it.”
I shrug proudly. “What can I say? I guess I’ve just got swag after all.”
Alice can’t help but laugh. “Okay, that’s enough”, she says, waving me away with the scissors. “Whatever you’ve got, it isn’t swag.”
“I’ll call you”, I say, moving away from the counter.
“Don’t give them everything at once”, Alice advises. “Keep them wanting more.”
“I will”, I say, almost at the door.
“And call me”, Alice says, “I’ll be mad if you don’t call me.”
“Don’t work too hard”, I say.
“And find out of they have any sexy friends, or even another brother somewhere!”
I blow her a kiss and head out onto the street. A second later I’m back inside.
“I just need to-”, I say.
“Go right ahead”, Alice says. “Don’t mind me, slaving away all day here while you laze around, living the dream.”
I ignore her and continue my pointles
s search. There’s nothing of mine here, but I knew that already.
“See you soon, Al.”
“Don’t eat too much ice cream tomorrow”, she warns, before I’m out of the door for good.
Chapter Twenty
Mom has asked me to get dressed up for tonight, but refuses to tell me what her secret is until I’ve arrived. I don’t really do dressing up - about the smartest thing I have in my closet is the stuff I reserve for interviews and first days at work - and even then it’s not exactly what I know Mom probably has in mind. I settle for something I would usually wear: Jeans, T-shirt, wool jumper, and hope that whatever she wants to tell me isn’t affected by the fact I’m not wearing a little black dress. At the end of the day, I’d prefer to be comfortable and obsess less, than be the most elegant girl in the room, who ticks more than rainman.
To check that I’m still coming, Mom sends me five messages on Whatsapp, leaves one voicemail and then calls again while I’m in the middle of listening to it.
“Just making sure you know where we are going”, she says, as a thinly veiled excuse for her call.
“Are you okay, Mom?” I ask. “You sound suspiciously happy.”
She actually sounds like she’s on drugs, but I don’t want to predict something that could be right. Maybe Mr. Money Bags is some kind of Scarface style international drug smuggler and she’s got Mom hooked to keep her quiet. Maybe tonight is going to be some kind of tell all confession that results in them both emigrating permanently to Columbia. Maybe they want to recruit me into the business instead, and make me some kind of long distance drugs mule smuggling swallowed condoms full of heroin out of Afghanistan.
“Just make sure you aren’t late”, Mom says, bringing me back to reality. “Get a taxi if you need to.”
I might be able to get a taxi if I had any money, but I still haven’t been paid yet and I feel weird asking Jack for an advance. I get the bus instead, which is much more appropriate for the kind of lifestyle that I’m used to. Mom might have already become accustomed to living the high life with Mr. Money Bags - I must try and remember his name before I get there - but I’m an independent woman, and even though Jack is clearly well off, I’m not the kind of girl that likes to be supported. I’m happy to eat at ludicrously expensive restaurants if I’m being invited, but I want to keep my feet on the ground too, and buses are great, especially on Saturday evening. Having my car turned into a set of kitchen knives has really allowed me to appreciate just how diverse this neighborhood really is. Arriving by bus also gives me quiet time inside my own head, which I use to prepare myself for the awkwardness that is likely to follow, and distract myself with thoughts about Jack and Logan. I drew a new scene this afternoon - the first erotic drawing I’ve done in a while, simply because I haven’t had any spare time - and it’s something I can’t wait to try out with them.
