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I liked her well enough, but there were days I wished I could summon half her social energy.
In sharp contrast, I'd chosen a simple white T-shirt and blue jeans. Now, don't write me down on that because my jeans came with frontandback pockets.
And these weren't your run-of-the-mill sexy lady pockets that refused to hold anything barring a phone.
I hated those pants. They made me look like a pot-bellied forty-year-old the second I put a wallet in them, or if I added anything extra at all, even a set of keys, for Christ's sake.
No, ma'am. These were functional pockets, roomy and comfy and with some cute buttons. I felt they could make me pass off as a modern-day Poirot on a bender of solving whodunits.
Definitely what I'd have chosen if being a librarian wasn't an option. At the rate I was progressing, though, maybe it was time to consider changing lines and looking into mysteries.
The last big one was when the neighbor lost her cat, Mrs. Ruffles, for the 200thtime. She later found that she'd roamed off three doors down because the lunch there was better. Plus, they had a scratching post and a handsome tabby.
You couldn't fight love, a good scratch, and a tasty meal.
And I was clearly a little tipsy.
Lori sat down beside me and proceeded to take two quick selfies that made me look like a frumpy mom hiding in the closet to get a few minutes of peace from her kids. She, of course, looked like she'd descended from the Red Carpet of Oakmont.
"I'm so glad you came out tonight, Grandma," She teased me, placing an expensive moisturizer-loaded hand on my shoulder.
I immediately rolled my eyes at her. "Listen, you're lucky you got me on such short notice. I was about to sit down with something really important."
Lori giggled at that. "What list was it this time, Junie?"
Sigh.
"Okay, okay," I grumbled, shrugging my shoulders. "I'm glad I came out too. I haven't left the house in a hot minute. Work has been busy."
Lori let out a dramatic groan that sounded like a hen raising the alarm.
"Oh, God, Junie. Stop talking about work like you have no bloody social life. Go out with someone!
You're young and beautiful, and this place is like– it's literally a paradise. Look at that guy. He's checking you out! Go and say hi!"
Oh, hell no.
I raised my hands in mock defeat. "I'm pretty sure he's checking out the cute man behind us, Lori. That's Dave, and he's as gay as a picnic basket. He's super cute, but I'm not going to hell for turning people."
Lori scowled and ordered another drink. The music changed beats and transitioned to something peppier.
"So, are you really planning to stay single forever?"
"Unlike you, you mean? What type are you looking for this season?"
For anyone else, this would have been a low blow, but it just made Lori laugh. Last year, she'd waltzed off to Europe with her seasonal man and come back wearing clothes that almost made her mother wish she'd become a nun when she had the time.
I didn't mind the clothes, though. Lori could carry off anything and do it well—even if she came out in a dustbin. But she was a fucking busybody who kept getting involved in others' lives.
Maybe I was feeling a bit brave, though, because I said something I would never otherwise consider. "Besides, I'm not single anymore."
Her eyes grew so big they almost bulged out of their sockets. "No? Really?"
I nodded my head, cursing myself for my big mouth. This would find a way back to my mother. And I'd hear no end to it.
"Who?"
I tapped my fingers on the counter nervously. "No one you know, Lori. It's pretty casual right now."
