Torn sleeve. Coffee stains. It is the comfort food of my garment collection.
Birdie was curled on my bed.
“Hey, Bird.”
If cats could look reproachful, Birdie was doing it.
I sat next to him and ran a hand along his back.
“I didn’t invite the chow.”
Birdie said nothing.
“What do you think of the other guy?”
Birdie curled both paws under his breast and gave me his Sphinx look.
“Think I should pull out the string bikinis?”
I lay back next to the cat.
“Or hit the Victoria’s Secret stash?”
Victoria’s Secret knockoffs, actually, from Guatemala. I’d found them in a lingerie store, and bought the mother lode for the beach trip that never was. Those items were still in their Vic-like pink bag, tags in place.
I closed my eyes to think about it.
The sun was again cutting through the magnolia, throwing warm slashes across my face.
I smelled bacon and heard activity in my kitchen.
A moment of confusion, then recollection.
My eyes flew open.
I was in a fetal curl on top of the spread, Gran’s afghan over me.
I checked the clock.
Eight twenty-two.
I groaned.
Rolling from the bed, I pulled on jeans and a T and ran a brush through my hair. Sleeping on it wet had flattened the right side, pooched the left into a demi-pompadour.
I tried water. Hopeless. I looked like Little Richard with hat hair.
Terrific.
I was halfway down the stairs when I thought about breath.
Back up to brush.
Boyd greeted me at the bottom step, eyes shining like a junkie’s on crack. I scratched his ear. He shot back to the kitchen.
Ryan was at the stove. He wore jeans. Just jeans. Slung low.
Oh, boy.
“Good morning,” I said, for lack of a more clever opener.
Ryan turned, fork in hand.
“Good morning, princess.”
“Listen, I’m sorr—”
“Coffee?”
“Please.”
He filled a mug and handed it to me. Boyd gamboled about the kitchen, high on the smell of frying fat. Birdie remained upstairs, radiating resentment.
“I must have bee—”
“Hooch and I had a hankerin’ for bacon and eggs.”
Hankerin’?
“Sit,” said Ryan, pointing his fork at the table.
I sat. Boyd sat.
Realizing his mistake, the chow stood, eyes fixed on the bacon Ryan was transferring to a paper towel.
“Did you find a pillow and blanket?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I took a sip of my coffee. It was good.
“Good coffee.”
“Thank ya, ma’am.”
