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“Kinky,” Louis said, pulling tiles and setting them up in his tray.
Through the glass table, Annie saw Lori kick him. He jumped. “Ow! What?” He reached down to rub his shin. Lori pulled her foot back.
“How do you like UCLA?” Lori changed the subject.
“It’s not Ole Miss,” Annie said, “but it’s all right.”
“She got an A on her midterms in every class.
“That’s supposed to be confidential,” Annie pointed out.
“You left your grade report in the kitchen.”
“Oh.” Annie had read the grades to her dad over the phone. She must’ve left the report there, distracted by something or someone.
“I stuck it on the fridge,” Helen said and turned to Lori. “Obviously, she hasn’t noticed.”
“If you kept the candy in the fridge…” Louis suggested.
Annie kicked him on his other shin.
“Ow! I swear to God.”
“You were working a lot,” Helen said. “I know it’s been a crazy time.”
“Wait, you’re working too?” Lori asked.
“Oh—” Annie felt a rush of panic and searched for a lie that could convince Lori, someone who knew her well and was a lawyer. But Helen smoothly beat her to it, covering her own faux pas.
“Studying, I mean. Always at the library.”
“Right,” Annie said. “You know how it is.”
“I do,” Lori said. “I do.”
Annie didn’t mind lying, but she wasn’t used to having someone on her side. To lie for her and with her.
Annie decided the best thing would be to change the subject. “I’m thirsty. Anyone want a drink?”
“What are we talking, water or…” Louis waggled his eyebrows.
Annie grinned. “Show me your booze, and I’ll make something good,” she promised.
* * *
Helen drunk was a sight to behold. Annie knew she could be a sloppy drunk herself, but she was the least intoxicated of thefour by the time they all broke for bed. Lori was a tired drunk, the first to slink off toward a softer surface—the couch in the next room. Louis was loud, and Annie had to keep shushing him, reminding him about the little girls sleeping upstairs.
Annie wasn’t exactly sober either. She felt warm and happy, and it was easy not to think about things she didn’t want to think about. Her father’s critical letters. The finals that loomed between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Mason Worth’s lecherous handshakes. Agent Katz’s hopeful, doughy smile. Minsk.
But Helen… Helen seemed to be glowing from within. It had to be the red wine that made her flush. Then they started adding hard liquor, and Helen had shrugged out of her sweater, revealing bare, pink arms. Every time she laughed, she added sunlight to a dark room. Annie couldn’t stop staring at her, couldn’t help reaching out to lay her hand on Helen’s freckled, rosy arm. She realized that she was touching her over and over again, realized she needed to stop, but she couldn’t. When Louis cracked a joke, they all burst into laughter, and Annie reached out to touch Helen’s arm again.
Helen put her hand on top of Annie’s and squeezed.
That was when Lori got up to go pee and never came back. They all had to get up early anyway, what with kids and guests and a huge meal to cook. Helen had already proven herself invaluable with the pies and had jumped into the head cook position. Lori thanked her for coming twice over, as if Helen were the guest and Annie the stranger. But no matter. It was the right body for the right job.
Louis asked if they needed anything else, told them to make themselves at home, and roused his drunk, tired wife from the sofa in the other room to walk her up the stairs.
“I can sleep down here,” Annie offered.
