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“I’m waiting to make a decision.”
I nod, then watch as she pulls a mixing bowl out of the cabinet and puts it in her tote bag.
“Why are you taking that mixing bowl?” I ask.
“You know how I hate to eat popcorn out of the bag.”
“It’s two weeks.”
She gives me a look that tells me two weeks is clearly a lifetime and how could I possibly suggest she eat microwave popcorn out of the bag for that duration. I lift my hands in surrender.
“What time are you leaving?” I ask, placing the golden-brown pancakes on our plates.
Sophie peeks out from behind the refrigerator door where she has loaded her arms with cases of bubbly water and diet soda. She glances at the clock on the counter.
“Piper is picking me up in ten minutes.”
I take the drink boxes out of her hands, giving her a questioning look as I set them on the counter.
“Necessities,” she says.
“They have Diet Coke in LA.”
“Sure, they do. But if I already have it then that’s one less thing to worry about.”
I refrain from teasing her more. Being prepared and having everything she needs is Sophie’s anchor. It stems from a childhood of chaos and uncertainty which we’ve coped with in our own ways. Hers is to be prepared, mine is to avoid those situations altogether. A situation exactly like flying to New York to pose as Emma’s husband which has more question marks than Jim Carrey’s The Riddler costume.
The microwave dings.
“Bacon’s done!” Sophie grabs out the tray.
I reach into the fridge for the berries and whipped cream.
At the table, we work together to assemble our happy face pancakes. Sophie placing on the bacon mouth, blueberry nose and strawberry eyes, while I use the can of whipped cream to spray on the hair.
We sit down to eat. Sophie digs in, stabbing her pancake’s blueberry nose. Then, she looks up at me.
“So, last night…” She takes a bite of bacon, then prompts me to answer by waving the crispy breakfast meat in my direction.
She wants the details.
“We went to Vibe.”
She looks thoughtful, her interest piqued.
“That’s not your scene at all.”
“I don’t have a scene,” I reply.
“I know. And if you did, it wouldn’t be there.”
“Reggie and Mike wanted to go.” I don’t bother mentioning Dallas. He’s the last person I would want to spend time with outside of work. “What did you do last night?” I ask, looking to pull the attention off me.
“I waited until it wasn’t a million degrees, then I went for a run.”
“Alone? In the dark?” The displeasure is clear in my voice.
“No. Geez. I went with Coco.”
