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“Gramma!” I shout and jump to my feet, startling poor Dolores and making her spill her cocktail over the side of my sofa (totally amemove). “I have to find Kyle! He’s my Aragorn! My Han! My Captain Lonestar!”
“That’s the spirit, poodle.” Delores fist pumps before furrowing her brow. “But there’s the small problem of you imbibing too much for you to drive us anywhere.”
As if by divine intervention, there’s a sudden knock at my front door.
“Who theHis that?” Delores ponders before dumping the last few drops of her drink into her mouth.
Desperately hoping it’s my very own bespectacled and beloved Kyle Reese, I go rushing for the door, stumbling over about three TRULY cans on my way and almost face planting. But I put both hands out and catch myself, smacking against the door with a thud. Shaking off my newest stunt, I fumble with the doorknob and yank it open.
Standing in my doorway, however, is not my Ranger from the North, but his sister, looking about as wasted as I feel. If I couldn’t tell by her disheveled blond hair and her red puffy eyes, the White Claw clenched tight in one hand (traitor) and Scott’s standby snowboard under her other arm (that’s curious), certainly tip me off to the fact that she’s completely hammered.
“Uh…” I begin, very intelligently, as I’m quite at a loss for words here.
“Give my brother another chance!” Blondie demands in a drunken bellow.
“Is that the twinkie?” Delores chirps from the couch behind me.
“Um, what are you doing here?” I ask the twinkie, face scrunched tighter than John Cena’s ass.
“Whasth it look like?” she asks as she sways like one of those blow-up things you see in front of car dealerships. “I came to defend my brother! Plusth, I dumped Scott and took his snowboard! Ha!” She looks pretty pleased with herself. She lifts the can to her mouth, then adds, “ ’Course, he doesn’t know either of those things yet.”
“I have so many questions.” I shake my head, trying to clear some of the alcohol haze. “Like how did you know where I lived? And how did you get here? And… okay, I guess just two questions.”
“I followed Scott here once. When he was trying to get his new snowboard. And I had an Uber bring me to the building tonight, but I didn’t know which door was yours. I think I pissed off a few of your neighbors,” she finishes, nervously looking up and down the hallway.
“What are you going to do with it?” I bob my head to the snowboard under her arm.
“I dunno. Probably set it on fire and give it a Viking funeral. Send it burning down the slopes, you know.” She hiccups.
Geez Louise. She and I are more alike than I thought.
“Damaging his property will just give him ammo to throw one of his hissy-fit tantrums and send the cops after us,” I ruminate, turning but leaving the door open as an invitation.
“Here, here!” Delores cheers from her couch.
How the hell did she get another cocktail?
“But you could always do something to it thatisn’tconsidered damage,” she sing-songs as she pounds her fresh drink.
“Like what?” I ask from the fridge, cracking open another spiked seltzer.
“We could dip it in cow manure,” Blondie suggests. I have got to remember her name. Callie? Kylie?
“Thatsounds amazing…” I point to her from across the room and level her with a stare, trying to remember her name by using the force.
“Carly,” she supplies in a mumble before polishing off her drink.
It worked!
“Carly!” I exclaim. “That’s an amazing idea! But I have to get to Kyle right now! I have to make things right. He’s my Iceman!”
“Hang on, let me call my Uber back.” Carly drops Scott’s snowboard, letting it clatter to the floor as she reaches into her coat pocket for her phone
I help Delores of the couch and into her coat.
“I need a to-go cup,” she announces as she shuffles toward my kitchen while I pull my own parka on.
“I want you to get back with my brother, but can wepleaseoffend the douchewad’s snowboard in some way while we’re out?” Carly begs as Delores reemerges with a thermos and a couple more cans of my hard seltzer.
