I didn’t know.
What I did know was, whatever it was, good or bad, it was the Oasis.
So I needed a cocktail.
SEVEN
ALL MY HEART
Shanti’s vodka tonic reloaded, I made myself an elderflower, blackberry gin concoction, we switched to plastic tumblers (most of us at the Oasis had plastic cocktail gear for safe courtyard consumption), and we headed out.
As per usual for an OSRA meeting, the outdoor furniture and the tenants’ personal furniture we had outside our doors had been arranged in a mish-mosh theater style setting in the grassy area by the big shade tree.
Also as per usual, Zach and Bill, our association co-presidents, who were a couple, were up front, fiddling with a portable microphone.
Not as per usual, there were two tall-ish, wide-ish blobs covered in sheets standing at the front.
And really not as per usual, Martha was hanging with Zach and Bill (we could just say Zach and Bill had horned in as OSRA co-presidents, Martha dissented, everyone outvoted Martha, Martha wasn’t over it, and this was often reiterated at OSRA meetings).
Raye, Luna, Jess and Harlow were there, but Joey and Gemma were still on shift at SC, so they were not. Though, most of the other tenants were.
More usual: Cap, Eric, Javi and Jacob had assumed badass poses (the one Luke pulled off in the parking lot yesterday: crossed arms, planted feet set wide) off to the side because, we’d learned, badasses stood at the ready even at tenant meetings.
Alexis, sitting front and center, waved at us as we approached, and we headed her way.
When I sat beside her, she took my hand and said excitedly, “After this, I’ll come over and we’ll talk cake.”
She bounced in her chair on the word “cake.”
And this was a cake I could get behind, no burnout, I was so happy for her and Jacob, so I smiled. “Absolutely.”
Shanti, seated next to me, leaned forward and asked Alexis, “Any clue what this is about?”
Alexis shook her head. “None.” She looked to me. “And I hope it doesn’t last long. I have so many ideas for our cake, and so many pictures, I worry you’re going to wish you wouldn’t have agreed to make it for us.”
“Babe, I’ve dealt with many a bride in my time. I’ve got practice. We’ll narrow it down,” I assured.
She smiled gratefully as we heard Zach’s voice coming from the speakers Bluetoothed to the microphone, “Testing, testing. Sibilance. Sibilance.”
“You aren’t a roadie for Blue Oyster Cult, for shit’s sake,” Martha snapped at him.
“More cowbell!” Rhea shouted.
I suppressed a giggle. Shanti beside me, and Raye, Luna, Jess and Harlow in the row behind us, didn’t bother and laughed out loud.
Zach gave Martha a glare then turned to the crowd. “Bringing the ad hoc Oasis Square Residents Association meeting to order. Is our secretary ready to take minutes?”
“I am!” Linda called, pen poised over her notepad.
“Jeez, we’re probably going to be discussing the pressing matter of how short we want the grass clipped,” Shanti muttered. “We hardly need minutes.”
She wasn’t wrong.
The OSRA was a relatively new thing, but since it formed, we’d had a lot of meetings that were really just covers for community cocktail hours because the company that owned the complex was the greatest (I’ll bid you to remember my mention of window boxes we didn’t have to take care of), therefore, we didn’t have anything to discuss.
Though, Martha often called them simply to bitch about how Zach and Bill horned in as co-presidents, but even then, they became cocktail hours.
“All right,” Zach said. “For the first and only matter of business, I’m turning it over to Martha.”
