As usual, everything was happening at the same time. My trip to the resort with Harrison and Sarah’s two-week research trip to the Everglades were both kicking off the next day, and we were each scrambling to prep in our own way.
Me, baking emergency cookies for my sister to take with her—kitchen sink cookies, Sarah’s favorite—and Sarah, spelunking in my closet to find appropriate outfits formytrip.
No surprise, our top-of-mind concern was each other.
Compared to the amazing experience of using Harrison’s kitchen, coming back to my rundown kitchen felt like I was baking cookies over a campfire. Every single workaround I was forced to use, like needing a flashlight to see inside our ancientoven, was a reminder of our dodgy setup. But could I afford a sixty-thousand-dollar oven like the one in his kitchen?
Yeah,no. Not now, not ever.
“What’s the deal with this black cocktail dress?” Sarah came into the kitchen holding the minuscule thing up in front of her body. “It looks like it was made for a toddler.”
I laughed at her befuddled expression. “That was a TikTok mistake. I got influenced, bought it from one of those shitty websites that looks like it was created in 1995, and when it arrived, I realized it’s way too small. But it does stretch a little.”
Sarah was already stepping into it and trying to pull it up her body, twisting and grunting as she forced it up and over her leggings and T-shirt.
“There. How do I look?”
She bumped her hip out and posed seductively, which made the outfit look that much more ridiculous. I burst out laughing.
“Dude, it’s not funny. Your closet is a wasteland of either black, gray, or white corporate girl bullshit, or athleisure. You need some fun resort outfits. Ladies-who-lunch crap, since you’re going to be hanging with the fancy set.”
“Iknow,” I sighed dramatically as I finished packaging up the cookies. “Let’s go see what we can do.”
I followed behind my waddling sister as she peeled off the rejected dress.
“What’s the gameplan for the Saturday before the party?” Sarah asked.
“Nothing yet. I think I need to wear something transitional.”
Sarah snorted. “Good luck withthat. You’ve got nada that’s appropriate. Maybe you could dress down one of those office girlie dresses?”
“Well, you have a closet too…” I trailed off.
Even though we were the same size, we rarely shared clothing—but this was a desperate moment. I was leaving the next day, so there was no time to shop.
“Be my guest,” she gestured toward her room. “If you’re looking for waterproof cargo pants and sun-proof long-sleeve cotton T-shirts, you’re in luck.”
“Oh come on! You have some really gorgeous pieces hidden in your closet that you never wear. And don’t act like I’m lying! Any time you get a little bonus I see those Nordstrom boxes rolling in. So would it be okay if I…” I clasped my hands beneath my chin in a wardrobe prayer.
“Duh, of course. Go crazy, my washable silk is your washable silk.”
“Yay!” I jogged to her bedroom and flung open the closet door.
Sarah settled on her bed behind me as I started plucking through my options.
“You really like him, huh?”
I paused with my hand on a thin knit shell. “I haven’t thought too much about it. I’m just enjoying myself.”
A throw pillow sailed by me and landed at my feet. “Liar.”
I picked up the pillow and chucked it back at her, nailing her on the head. Sarah fell over like it was a kill-shot.
“Did I hurt you for real? Sorry!” I ran over to where she was still flat on her back.
She whipped her hand up and smacked me with the hidden pillow, and we both collapsed into giggles.
“I like this version of you,” Sarah finally said once we’d collected ourselves. “You’re really fun when you’re happy.”
