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“Even with the weirdo in the basement?” She gives a little laugh as she tugs a washed oak tray from the pantry like she’s Mary Poppins. “I used to hear him digging through the recycling at all hours of the night.”
I flick my head up. “Yeah, but you’ve seen him, right?” My cheeks flush hot, remembering the one time I bumped into him in the laundry room at four in the morning. He was wearing nothing but a very revealing pair of joggers, and while I couldn’t see his face past the long hair and beard, I could seeeverythingelse about him, including his six-pack and his impressive half-erection.
She cocks her head and frowns.
“Wait,” I say, lowering my chin. “You haven’t seen him?”
“Is he cute?” Her pert cupid’s-bow mouth curves into an excited grin.
“He’s like… hairy but super built andsuperhot. But I swear, nobody except me has seen him.”
“Sounds like Sasquatch,” Faye says with a giggle.
“Hot Sasquatch.” I giggle back.
“It sure sounds like we should stop what we’re doing right now and pay him a visit.”
“Oh, he probably won’t answer.”
“Of course he won’t,” Faye says. “He’s Hot Sasquatch.”
“Oh, are you on about that again?” Ansley says, rolling her eyes. Especially when I pour her the first glass and pass it to her to taste. “Oh, it’s so good going down.”
“Me next!” Caro says, reaching out. I pour hers, and then Aly’s, and keep going around the circle. When I pass Lule hers, she lifts it and clears her throat.
“Ahem,” she says again, over enunciating the word. “Oh, I said I wouldn’t cry.” The girls titter as I start prepping a fresh pitcher.
“You had news!” Aly says, pulling one of her classic “squirrel” moves. She bumps my hand, knocking over the pitcher.
“Shit,” I mumble, grabbing some paper towels. This tequila isn’t cheap and I don’t want to waste it. Especially since I’m still unemployed and can’t afford to replace it. Hell, I might not be able to pay my rent next month.
“Alright, enough’s enough. What’s the news, Lule?” Faye says, nudging her former boss.
When I first met them, Faye had just quit med school and was working at Lule’s yarn shop, the Knitty Kitty. But then the shop suffered a fire, and it’s been a long road with renovations as they discovered some bigger hiccups in the reconstruction.
“Oh, is the store reopening?” I ask, tossing the paper towel in the garbage.
“If you will all stop talking, then I can tell you about how Pasha got traded to North Carolina and we’re moving next week.”
The room is quiet. I feel frozen, stunned by the news. Everyone blinks at our friend, who raises her glass in a toast.
“So, Na Zdorovie!” She clinks her glass against the ones the girls are holding, frozen, and then when nobody responds, she sets hers down on the counter. “Jesus, ladies. You had more to say about Val Kilmer than you do about my good news!”
“It’s just,” Faye says, searching for the right words. Or maybe justaword. “Surprising.”
“Sudden,” Aly says.
Caro shrugs, the wanderlust clear in her expression. “I see it.”
“You’re moving away?” Ainsley says, taking it in.
“They make the best barbecue there,” Caro says, trying to clink her glass against Lule’s, but Lule raises her hand to stop her.
“Kansas City is the best.”
“I guess we’ll have to try it out,” Caro says, flipping her dark hair with a competitive wink. Caro used to have a travel blog, and it’s no secret that the girl has wanderlust.
“So, you’re really moving? What about the Knitty Kitty?” I ask, opening a glass bottle of our favorite grapefruit soda.
