“Who’s waiting for us?”
“My friends.” I grin. “C’mon. Let’s go out.”
“We should find Harry, cut off his balls, throw them in the bay, dump him off at Alcatraz, and let the birds eat him.” Queen Bee lifts her glass like she’s toasting instead of roasting.
“That’s seems maybe a little excessive?” Eloise says, but she raises her glass to Bee’s with a smile.
“Baby, morally gray is my favorite color.”
Presley bursts out laughing.
We snagged a table at the Saloon for Alex’s show, me, Bee, Fifi, Dolly, and Eloise. Presley showed up shortly after we arrived, and we’ve all been enjoying ourselves ever since.
Instead of the mild clapping and chuckles that normally accompany Alex and Leon’s comedy show, we’ve been tearing it up with cheers and laughter, and when Dolly laughs, she is loud.
Their energy ramps up the whole half-full room until it’s an exuberant celebration of humor.
“Hey. You made it. And you brought friends.” After the set ends, Alex stops next to me at the table.
“Hey! Yes, I did. Everyone, everyone?” I have to clap my hands to get their attention.
Queen Bee is giving Eloise red-carpet makeup tips, Dolly is interjecting her opinions, and Presley is arguing with Bee about lash extensions.
I introduce Alex to the queens and to my sister.
“Want to sit? We saved you a seat.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
He sits and immediately gets roped into an argument about the best place to eat in Oakland.
Conversation hums around me, mingled with periodic bursts of laughter. I sit back and enjoy, contributing occasionally, but mostly breathing in the moments. Delighting in the fact that I’m surrounded by people who are kind and open and accepting and full of joy just existing with each other. People I love.
Leon comes over at some point, and the merriment increases. Then Leon ends up in Fifi’s lap, and the volume goes up another notch. Time flies by. I blink and Eloise is hugging everyone goodbye.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yeah. It’s midnight and I’ve got to get back to Palo Alto. I’ll call you, okay?”
“My phone’s broken. I’ll call you once I get it fixed.”
And I’ll see you tomorrow anyway, I add in my head.
Later, we get Bee and Fifi off in a cab, and then Alex drives Dolly and me home. This time, I don’t fall asleep, and Alex doesn’t idle in front of the building. He shuts off his truck and walks Dolly and me up to our floor.
After Dolly disappears into her place, Alex stops with me outside my apartment.
I lean back against my door and face him. “Thanks for giving us a ride.”
His hands are in his pockets. “Thanks for coming to my show.”
“It was a lot of fun.”
“So—”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I want him to come in, of course, but I don’t want to pressure him and I know how this ends. Plus, I have to check on Dolly.
But Alex isn’t moving.
I lift my brows at him.
“You’re not going inside? I was sort of waiting for you to go in so I could do that thing where I pine outside your door like a smitten fool.”
I laugh. “That sounds like an amazing time for you, but . . .” I consider what to tell him and settle on the truth. I’m not giving away any of Dolly’s secrets. “I’m probably going to check on Dolly.”
Of course Alex, being himself, is concerned. “Is she okay? Is there something I can do?”
I shrug. “Sometimes she just needs someone to sit with her.”
He nods, getting it. “Can I help?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wakefulness weaves its fingers through my sleepy mind. I roll over, pulling a pillow over my head in anticipation of drowning out the thumping music.
I can’t wait to do this day all over again. Maybe I can push Alex for some heavy petting or something. He’s too damn chivalrous.
Wait.
I remove the pillow from over my head.
There’s no music. No thumping. No sprinkle me.
I sit up in bed. Why is the music gone? I don’t oversleep. I don’t sleep through E-40. I don’t wake up before it starts. Not ever.
What if I’ve gone deaf? Is that possible?! I pick up the lamp on my side table and chuck it on the floor.
It doesn’t shatter, it thumps to the ground. But it does make a noise, and I can hear it. Not deaf.
I pick up my phone. It’s still dead.
Knock knock knock.
That’s the same. Sort of. Is it louder, or does it seem louder because there’s no music overpowering . . . ?
I open the door.
Alex.
I blink at him, my mouth agape.
Alex is standing at my doorstep, his arms full of brown Trader Joe’s grocery bags. “I got bagels and coffee and some fresh fruit and stuff.” He breezes past me.
I stare into the hallway outside my door. I can’t move. I’m a statue of shock.
I can’t—I can’t believe it. It’s different. It’s really different.
My whole body flashes hot and cold. I can’t come to grips with this. After all this time, after all these days, days that I had gotten used to living, didn’t expect to change, had let go of wanting to change and . . . now it’s tomorrow.
“I also got some creamer and sugar. Real sugar and the fake sugar and vegan sugar.” He’s in my kitchen, pulling stuff out of the bags and setting them on the counter. “I wasn’t sure what you preferred.” He looks up.
Our eyes lock.
I stare at him. “You’re here.”
“Yeah. Sorry.” He grimaces and rubs the back of his neck. “I woke up early. Not because your couch is super uncomfortable or anything, but because it’s literally the worst thing I’ve ever slept on.”
A startled laugh escapes me.
One corner of his mouth tips up in a lopsided grin. “Then I couldn’t leave without locking your door, since I don’t want you to get murdered or anything, but then I couldn’t get back in and suffice it to say, it wasn’t well thought out.” He holds up a package of instant coffee. “I brought back caffeine.” His sheepish smile is the cutest thing I’ve seen on
