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“Hmm.”
“Why do we have to have a thing?” Marlowe grabbed a rag to wipe down the bar. “I mean, we play softball because we’re good. And we win. But why do we have to have a winter thing?”
“Because it keeps us all active and together,” Bristol answered.
“You and Rhett already bored?” Marlowe quirked an eyebrow at Bristol. Over the summer, Bristol and their friend Rhett Bailey had finally hooked up and started seeing each other. Marlowe often wondered which of them would get to the altar first—Bristol and Rhett or Summer and Rhett’s brother, Taj.
“No.” Bristol grinned and ducked her chin a bit when she blushed. “But it’s fun to hang out with everyone.”
“It’s December,” Marlowe reminded them. “Everyone’s busy.”
“Yeah? What’re you doing these days?”
“Working.”
“Do you work tomorrow night?”
“No. I’m hanging out with Way tomorrow night.”
Summer winced. “Yeah, that’s a good thing to do.”
“I know!” Bristol yelped and threw her hand in the air as if trying to get someone’s attention. Marlowe glanced at the bachelor party guys again. Was she just checking on them, or was she wondering if Bristol’s outburst had gotten their attention? Or his attention? If she were being honest—Nope. No sense in going there. She’d never see the guy again after tonight.
“What?” Summer drew Marlowe’s attention back to them.
“Let’s have a Christmas party.”
Marlowe looked at the Christmas tree in the front of the bar now. She and James had decorated it. Sometimes James Murray was a cantankerous old man, but most of the time, they got along well. James would never tell her, but Marlowe knew his wife, and Elaine had told her recently that James was dealing with high blood pressure and the medicine merry-go-round while his doctor tried to find the right fit for him. She knew from experience with her mom that that wasn’t a fun process.
“Yes!”
From the corner of her eye, Marlowe saw Summer nod.
“Marlowe?”
She didn’t hate Christmas, but she wasn’t one of those nutjobs that wished every day was Christmas, either. But it was the middle of December, and it was colder than a snowman’s fart outside. And speaking of snow, it was in the forecast for the next three days.
“I don’t hate the idea,” she answered with a shrug.
“Let’s do it!” Bristol and Summer looked at each other with a nod. “’kay. Mark your calendar, Mar. Next Saturday.”
“Like a week from tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have more water?” Summer pushed her empty glass at Marlowe as she slid off her barstool. “Be right back. Gotta pee again.”
Marlowe laughed softly as she snagged Summer’s glass to refill it.
“You need a date.”
“For what?” Marlowe asked Bristol.
“The party.”
“I don’t need a date for the party,” Marlowe corrected her. “Notice Marlowe has been very dateless for several years, and she’s almost always smiling.”
“Rhett would suggest it might be gas.”
