"Death," Vivi answers immediately, and without thought. "Mwahahaha."
"No more of those for you," I say, pointing to her drink. "They bring out your evil side."
She tips the glass sideways, considering it. "They kind of do. Let's keep talking about Peter."
I groan. "I do not want to keep talking about Peter."
"Not about what he said. Let's talk about what a fine specimen he is."
"Absolutely not," I say, shaking my head. "It's bad enough I have to hose down Isla every time Peter comes in for a session."
Vivi laughs. "That woman needs to get dicked down, stat."
My eyes widen, and Vivi holds her drink aloft. "It's not my fault," she says, drawing out the last word so it sounds likefaullllllt.
I laugh, the kind of deep belly laugh I need. I love this person. She is my ride or die. My soul sister. She's my multipurpose friend, the kind who's down for anything. Run a 5k? She’ll train. Bury a body? She’s on the way with a single-use shovel. Midnight Mass? She'll go to confession the day before, because as she puts it,bitch be sinnin' all the damn time.
"Subject change," I announce. "How are the kids?"
Vivi sighs. "Everly earned time in the calm down corner at school today for calling her classmate a 'fucking idiot', and Igot a lecture from the principal about how little ears are always listening."
"How did the principal know Everly didn't learn this language from her father?"
"She ratted me out."
I laugh. "Tell me about my favorite three-year-old."
"And also the only three-year-old you know."
"Very true."
"Knox melted down at my mom's house last week when I came to pick him up after work. He didn't want to leave." Her shoulders sag. I know how much this hurts her, how her mom guilt eats at her. Running a restaurant takes a lot of time and energy from a single mom who's already stretched thin. Carter, Vivi's ex, has the kids every other weekend and every Wednesday night, and even though Vivi appreciates the break, shouldering everything by herself the rest of the time weighs heavy on her.
"Hey," I say softly, pressing a hand to Vivi's shoulder as she stares down into her drink. "He only did that because your mom slips him extra cookies."
She offers me a half-hearted, perfunctory smile. "Right." She leans back on her stool, getting the attention of the bartender and signaling for another drink. "In other news, an unsolved crimes podcaster emailed my brother."
"What?" I blink twice, mouth hanging open. "You really should have led with that."
"It was equally or slightly less important than your news about Peter hating Duke for no apparent reason."
"I disagree. Tell me more."
"Well," Vivi blows out a breath, thanking the bartender with a nod of her head as he sets down her drink. "It's sort of the same old, same old. She wants to interview Hugo, or me, or my mom. But nothing has changed. We still don't know what happened, or who did it."
We were kids, and my own memory of the time is fuzzy in some parts, but I distinctly remember my parents sitting me down on the yellow living room couch with the oversized rose print, telling me in grave tones that one of my classmate's parents had been found dead, and that it appeared to be a murder. Until that day, I thought of Vivi as my classmate with the long and pretty name, who had the best pencils. She also had pierced ears, something I was desperate to have. But now Vivienne had something I absolutely never wanted. A dead father.
My mother instructed me to be extra nice to her and her brother. I did as I was told, inviting Vivi to Spot for a real tea party. A few weeks later, Vivi's mother brought her over, and stayed for afternoon tea. I noticed the uncapping of the metal canteen, but not until I was older did I understand it was whiskey my mother was adding to her tea, and Vivi's mom's also. My mother, with her superhuman ability to be a good listener, opened her ear for Vivi's mom. Vivi and I spent most of our time in the front room of Spot, trying on fancy hats, until I put on one that had a bird's nest glued to the side, complete with three Robin's eggs, and Vivi cracked her first smile since she arrived.
"That hat is so ugly," she said, taking it off my head and putting it on her own head. "I think I'll wear it."
A friendship was born that day, and cultivated over the years, bringing us to now. A single mom of two young children, and a woman who is marrying for everything but love.
"What are you going to do?" I ask Vivi, watching various emotions play out across her face.
"Hugo deleted her email. We've all worked so hard for so long to move past everything that comes with what happened to my dad. We're not going to reopen an old wound just so some true crime podcaster can satisfy their curiosity."
Vivi speaks with conviction, but I know there's a part of her that is desperate to know what happened to her father on that road.
