My friends are the best. We’re all different, but it works.
Adele’s the polished, always-put-together Creole beauty who owns the local chocolate shop. She’s our mother hen, and always looks perfect in her vintage clothes. Tonight she’s in a 1950s style swing dress, the moss green color perfectly complementing her golden brown skin and green eyes. Instead of a jacket, she wears a shawl in taupe with gold thread. She’s the fancy one in the group, and she owns it.
Tabitha often wears vintage clothes too, either from the 1920s or 60s and 70s. Somehow she pulls off a sequined flapper dress one day, giant bell bottoms the next. Today she lounges loose-limbed in her chair with a beaded headband and a yellow jumpsuit. Another one of her Cher outfits, and she looks the part with her olive skin and narrow face.
Charlie is Charlie. She’s the shortest of us and the most fit. Most of the time, I see her in a blue button down shirt and sturdy navy shorts or pants—her post mistress outfit. Her job gives her a perpetual tan that matches her short blond hair. Right now she’s wearing a faded t-shirt that reads “In my defense, I was left unsupervised.”
And me, I’m just Sadie Diaz, Taos native. Kindergarten teacher, brown eyes, brown hair. Average height, average weight, average everything. Tabitha tells me I dress like a kindergarten teacher, whatever that means. The kids love my kitty earrings and brightly colored ballet flats.
“Glad you made it,” Charlie smiles at me. She’s already got a margarita in front of her, and I try not to look too jealous.
“Sorry I’m late,” I say and swing my bag off my shoulder. “I had to pick up a package.”
Tabitha grimaces at the black toy box I set on the restaurant table. “What the hell is that?” Her voice is loud enough to make several fellow restaurant goers swivel their heads to our table, but she doesn’t care. She leans back, nose wrinkled as she regards the toy.
I get why she’s making a face. The stuffed toy inside is a cross between a demon and a jackrabbit, with red eyes, antlers and fangs.
“It’s a jackalope,” I say, my tone apologetic. All three of my best friends lean in to inspect the toy box.
“Oh I’ve heard of these.” Charlie picks up the box and wrinkles her nose as she reads the back print. “It’s the hottest toy this year. Sold out in most states.”
“I ordered mine nine months ago,” I admit. “The kids in my class can’t stop talking about it. There are parents willing to commit murder to get one for their kids. That’s why I have it here. It just came in, and I’m not letting it out of my sight.”
“How does this work? Oh yes.” Charlie pushes a red button marked, Try me! on the clear plastic, and creepy laughter echoes from the box. The monstrous toy shakes, and its red eyes flash. “Don’t you want to play?” it mocks in a voice straight from Poltergeist.
“Holy shit!” Tabitha chokes. “What the hell?”
“Oh, hell no.” Adele shakes her head, so her soft brown curls bounce around her face as she holds up a hand. “That is too creepy.” She shivers and tugs her shawl around her. With the sun going down, it’s getting cool.
“It is creepy.” I examine the toy more closely. “The first time I pressed the button, I almost dropped the box. And I knew it did that.”
“Press it again,” Tabitha says with a wicked grin. Adele rolls her eyes.
“You sure?” Charlie hovers her thumb over the button.
“Do it,” Tabitha has a maniacal look not unlike the demon jackalope.
Gritting her teeth, Charlie pushes it. “Don’t you want to play?” a sinister voice whispers from the toy box.
“Oh!” Adele and Tabitha both cry. “Put it away,” Adele orders. Tabitha looks like she wants to push the button again.
“Shit,” Charlie says emphatically and places the box at arm’s length away from her on the table. “Kids really like to play with this stuff?”
I shrug.
“Kids these days,” Adele says, straightening her silverware beside the empty place where her plate will go for the fifth time. “Way more into scary stuff than I ever was.”
“At least it’s not baby Cthulhu. Those were super in last year,” I say. The waitress bustles up with her tray full of our drinks, and I take the toy and carefully set the box back in my bag.
“So you got one for your class?” Adele asks.
“Yeah. Only one, so they’ll have to share.”
“You are the nicest kindergarten teacher ever.” Tabitha salutes me with her strawberry margarita. “And that’s saying something. That bar is high.”
“To Sweet Sadie,” Charlie raises her Fat Tire in toast.
“Sadie,” Tabitha and Adele join in, raising their glasses.
I flush and sip my mango margarita with them. My friends are the best thing in my life right now. I love them like sisters, even though we couldn’t be more different.
“You didn’t want a margarita?” Tabitha asks Adele.
“No,” Adele sniffs and swirls her red wine in the glass.
“They’re really good,” Tabitha singsongs and flips her long, straight red hair over her shoulder.
“No thank you.” Adele tips the glass, closing her eyes and swirling her wine to inhale the bouquet.
“Snob,” Tabitha mocks gently.
“Leave her alone.” Charlie’s voice is a little loud, but it’s not the alcohol talking. Charlie just likes to be loud. She balances her chair on its back two legs for a second then lets it fall to all fours with a thud. “Someone should be drinking wine,” she pronounces. “It is Wine Wednesday.”
“You mean Whine Wednesday,” Tabitha corrects. “We agreed when we started this tradition we don’t actually have to drink wine, we just have to whine. So who’s going first?”
“Sadie.” Adele’s green eyes pierce me over her wine glass. She sees everything, and she’s
