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“I’ll need some ID,” the bartender says.
Shit.
“Um…” I look over at Kathy, not sure what I should do, but she’s already digging in her own purse. Then a thought occurs to me, and I quickly reach for my wallet. Next to my real driver’s license is the license Deklan used that time he took me to the hospital—the one with the name Kera Malone on it. It has my birthday as three months earlier than it is. “Here you go.”
The bartender gives the ID half a glance before handing it back to me.
“What would you ladies like this afternoon?”
Kathy looks at me sideways but doesn’t say anything until after the bartender takes our orders.
“Let me see that.” She grabs the license from me and snickers. “You with a fake ID. Who woulda thunk it?”
“Hush, you!” I grab the ID out of her hand and shove it back in my wallet. “It’s for emergencies.”
“Vodka is an emergency.” Kathy nods seriously.
The bartender brings us our drinks, and we clink them together. Being underage and rather sheltered, I’ve rarely had any alcoholic drinks, and by the time we are halfway through the second vodka-cranberry, I’m already feeling it.
“So, you don’t even know what he’s doing on this trip to Chicago?” Kathy drains her glass and orders another one.
“No clue,” I say. “He doesn’t tell me anything. I’m just glad he left me the car, or I would have been looking for an Uber to come meet you.”
“I’m sorry I
don’t get to meet him,” Kathy says. “I was kinda looking forward to that. Then again, a girls’ weekend is better. Now, show me how big his dick is with your hands.”
“No!” I laugh and feel my face getting warm. “It’s big enough.”
“But he’s tall, right?”
“About six foot four.”
“So, is it proportional?”
“Kathy! I am not talking about my husband’s cock!”
“Yeah, you will.” Kathy raises her hand and beckons the bartender. “My friend here needs more alcohol. I need her to give me some information regarding her husband’s penis, and she is thus far refusing my inquiries.”
The bartender grins and hands me another drink.
“I’m not even done with this one!”
“Catch up.” Kathy leans back in against the barstool and grins. “I need deets.”
I shake my head, finish my second drink, and move on to the third. I need to get her ranting about something so she’ll forget about Deklan’s dick.
“How was the flight?” I ask.
“Bumpy.” Kathy rolls her eyes. “And the airport—ugh! What is it Douglas Adams said? Airports are ugly.”
“Profound.” I down the rest of my drink and nibble at the basket of pretzels on the bar.
“He said they were really ugly.”
“Uh huh.” I roll my eyes.
“Context!” Kathy slams the palm of her hand on the bar. “You’re just going to have to read the book.”
