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The door slams behind Amber, and I glance around the place. A lot has changed since I was here last. For one, there’s a new couch, and it looks much more comfortable than the last one.
I make my way to the fridge and grab a bottle of water. So this Phoebe is hungover. I know exactly how to make her feel better. I dig through Ava’s cabinets and gather all the ingredients for my secret hangover cure. I mix them together in a tall glass and leave it on the counter, ready for when she wakes up.
I pull out my phone, scroll through social media, and like a few posts from some of my friends, then I hop over to my email app. I’ve got an email from the job fair I applied at, and when I open it and read it, I resist the urge to jump up and celebrate. Instead, I read the most important part a few times.
We’re pleased to offer you a full-time position as an HVAC technician. Please find attached the paperwork to fill out and your orientation schedule.
I haven’t had my certificate for long, but blue-collar jobs need all the help they can get right now. I’m thankful to have found a job so quickly, because I’m going to need it. After all, in a few months, I’m going to be a father.
TWO
MY MOUTH TASTES LIKE A GARBAGE CAN
When my eyelids finally separate themselves, light burns into my pupils. I blink rapidly against the urge to slam them shut again. It takes a minute for my vision to adjust, but finally, I can make out the shapes of furniture. But the events of the night before are still fuzzy.
After easing out of the covers, the cool air hits my body, and I look down and find myself completely naked. Of course I stripped down. I’m excellent at losing my clothes. Or, I have been since the divorce.
The dreadedDword. It’s been a long time coming if I’m being honest, but the taste of failure still lingers in my mouth, an ugly metallic coating I can’t seem to get rid of. Not even with alcohol, which I evidently attempted last night.
But at least I safely ended up in the spare room of my friend Ava’s apartment. She had kindly offered to take me out to dinner and drinks for my birthday yesterday. As sweet as that was, it still wasn’t enough to distract me from my failures, which hover over me like dark clouds. Thirty-six, divorced single mom, and currently jobless. Nice.
That last part is by choice, though. I worked as a house manager for a billionaire for a little while, but I recently realized I want something more. With the divorce, I got a nice lump-sum alimony check and decided to follow my dream.
I just have to figure out what that dream is first.
I make my way to the attached bathroom, hoping a scalding shower will help wake me up before I go in search of something to stomach. I’m not nauseous, so that’s a plus, but the way my mouth tastes like a garbage can makes me positive I did indeed vomit at some point last night.
I feel a bit better after washing up, although my head is still pounding, and I dry off and wrap a towel around me. I’ll have to find some clothes in Ava’s closet, or maybe our friend and her old roommate, Amber, left something here. Her clothes would be more likely to fit me than Ava’s. I dig through the closet and find a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. I even find a pair of socks and Amber’s birth certificate. She probably should have taken that with her.
As I’m getting dressed, there’s a knock on the door. I figure Ava is here to check on me. “Come in,” I call, wincing at my own voice. My head is still a bit sensitive from the night before.
I expected Ava to appear, dressed in one of her fancy pants suits and her hair twisted in a bun. But instead, a man comes into the room carrying a glass, and I hurry to button my jeans, thankful I was already mostly dressed. He’s taller than anyone I’ve ever met—his head nearly brushed the doorframe when he walked through it—and maybe my vision is still fucked up, but he looks like an absolute angel. His face is perfect, his cheekbones high and prominent, and his lips are thick and curvy. His hair is in golden curls, the sides shorter than the top. Suddenly, fear has me in its grasp.
Have I died? Surely heaven isn’t modeled after Ava’s apartment.
“Hey.” He speaks softly as he makes his way into the room. To my surprise, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and despite his height, he moves quite gracefully. He seems relaxed, but his hand grips the glass tightly, his knuckles almost white. He holds the glass out, and I sit up against the pillows.
“That’ll help you feel better.” I lift it to my nose and do a quick sniff test, revealing a citrusy lemon scent and something sweet. I take a gulp. Honey. And there’s a touch of something spicy, maybe ginger.
“Sip it slowly. You don’t want to get sick.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Thank you for the drink.” I clear my throat, setting the glass down on the nightstand with aclink. “And I’m not trying to be rude, but who are you?”
“I’m Ava’s brother, Isaac,” he explains. “She didn’t know I was coming to visit. I…I’m surprising her.”
“So where is Ava?”
“Amber answered the door when I arrived. She said Ava’s at work, then she instructed me to take care of you.”
I snort in response. “That’s nice. Leave the hungover woman with a complete stranger.”
“I’ll let you rest. I just wanted to make sure you had that. It’s the best cure.”
“And how do you know that? Make a habit of being hungover all the time?” I tease.
His burst of laughter booms around me, filling the room. “I was in a fraternity for a few years. That’s all I’m going to say.”
“Oh, so you’re Ava’slittlebrother.” The pieces link together in my head.
