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“I forgot about going out tonight,” I said, looking down at my mud-spattered clothing.
“Go shower and change. Olivia’s here to do our hair and makeup.”
I looked out at the rain, falling harder than ever. “Won’t it be hard to get to town in a storm like this?” Part of me was looking for an excuse to get out of it. More than part of me. I was so tired lately. I wanted to go upstairs with a glass of wine, take a pill, then sleep. Sleep and sleep and sleep with no dreams.
Ruth just waved a hand. “It’ll probably have stopped by the time you’re done with your shower. Besides, I haven’t been out dancing in ages and we’ve all been cooped up in the place for way too long.”
I nodded, knowing once Ruth got something in her head there was little chance of changing her mind. And she was right, we had been cooped up here. Maybe that was why I’d been feeling so… off lately.
It was just a little harder to get out of bed in the morning. All the fire and steam that had brought me this far, gotten me out of Jeff’s house finally, pushed me through the mad dash across the country, and seen me through the first month here… well, I was running out of steam.
Leaving was supposed to fix everything. It was supposed to be the end of all the bad stuff.
I was supposed to be able to start over as a new person.
I went upstairs and blasted hot water for several long moments, feeling the hot needles punching through the numb cold of my toes, my shoulders, my nose.
How did people do it? How did they keep putting one foot in front of another, day after day, year after year, for an entire lifetime? I slumped against the shower wall. Some days it felt impossible.
The water had started to run lukewarm by the time I finally washed and rinsed my hair and stepped out. That was selfish of me, in case any of the guys needed to shower. But I’d just sort of blanked out in the enveloping heat. That happened sometimes lately. I’d just kind of drift out…
I shook it off and got dressed, then ran back downstairs. Ruth was right about the storm. It wasn’t raining anymore. It was so strange, completely different from California. There when it rained, it rained all day, for weeks at a time sometimes. And there was rarely, if ever, thunder or lightning.
Here it seemed like the storms were determined to live up to the state motto, Don’t Mess with Texas. They had to be bigger and better. Louder, flashier. Storms came in with dramatic thunder, even more dramatic lightning.
They could roll in, dump gallons of rain that sometimes caused flash flooding, then be done thirty minutes later. It was completely nuts.
Ruth and Olivia had replaced the noise of thunder with loud music in the kitchen and the TV in the living room blaring some reality TV show. It was no less jarring after the silence and solitude of the shower.
Right as I stepped into the kitchen, the cacophony got even louder as Olivia hit the blender on what looked like a margarita mix.
“I thought we were going out,” I said, gesturing at the blender.
“These are the pre-bar drinks. I like to have a buzz before I get there.”
I shook my head but Olivia just grinned. “Why do you think I drive over? It’s so I don’t get stuck being the DD.”
Ruth rolled her eyes. Then she looked at me and said quickly, “Not it.”
“It’s fine with me. I don’t mind.” And I didn’t. After my last experience with the weed, I wasn’t in a hurry to lower my inhibitions again anytime soon.
The door to the kitchen and Buck and Jeremiah came in.
“Ooo.” Ruth grinned. “Jeremiah can be the designated driver. Then Charlotte can get smashed with us.”
Jeremiah grimaced. “What am I getting volunteered for?”
Ruth looked appalled. “We’re going to the bar tonight! Don’t tell me you forgot.” Then she looked over at Buck. “You’re invited too, of course, Buck.”
Buck nodded, dipping his head as he took off his hat. A small river of water poured off the top of it onto the kitchen floor as he did. “Sounds like a good time.”
“Well, I’d be your DD,” Jeremiah said, “But I don’t think we’ll all fit in one vehicle. Gonna have to take two.”
“Seriously,” I put a hand on Ruth’s arm. “I don’t mind.”
“Okay well, still, take a sip.” She held out her margarita to me and obligingly, I took a sip. “Delicious.”
Their good moods were infectious and I was feeling a little more in the mood for whatever they had planned tonight. I hadn’t been out dancing in… well, ever. I mean, I’d been to exactly one party in college before being swallowed up by Jeff, and no one was exactly dancing at the sloppy kegger. Jeff himself hated dancing, so there’d been no opportunity after we were married, not even at our wedding.
