‘It’s tradition,’ Ava said.
‘But rule number one isdon’ttell Natalie,’ I warned. I didn’t need a repeat of thedon’tpiss off the hostsnear-miss. ‘I have a feeling George knows about it, but he turns a blind eye. Doris would have a conniption if she found out, but she parks out front with the residents, so she’ll never know. Natalie would happily fire us all.’ I was also risking my recommendation letter, doing this. But if the butter brawl happened anyway and I wasn’t here, she’d just tell me I should have done something to stop it or refuse to believe I didn’t take part. Maybe she’d fire me anyway to set an example.
‘Oh,’ Ava said, looking past me. ‘Especially if she saw that.’ She pointed at Natalie’s Cadillac, which had five splatters of butter across the hood.
‘Shit.’ James bolted up the loading dock stairs. It was almost eight, and Natalie would be leaving shortly.
Ava, Gabe, the Emmas, Luke and I began wiping down the front. First with dry disposable rags and then with a little bit of soap to get rid of the oily residue. Ava sprinkled some baking soda across the remaining oil slicks, and we waited a moment before wiping it away.
It looked fine, but there was clearly a large section of the Cadillac that had been recently cleaned. The other side of the hood was dry and pollen-covered.
James was on it. He emerged from the loading dock with Horace and the pressure washer. Horace sprayed down some of the dock and parking lot, washing clumps of baking-soda-butter into the grass, and ‘accidentally’ sprayed down the front of the Cadillac.
James gave him a quick thanks and Horace went back inside, where, James informed us, he would tell Natalie he had accidentally over-sprayed and cleaned the front of her car.
‘We should get out of here before she comes out, though,’ James said. ‘See you guys tomorrow?’
‘I’m off tomorrow,’ I said. ‘I’m Wednesday, Thursday and Friday this week.’
‘Aw man,’ Gabe said. ‘I’m Tuesday and Saturday.’
‘Sunday brunch?’ I asked. He shook his head.
Ava gave the two of us a look only I seemed to catch.
‘Guess I won’t see you till next week,’ I said.
‘See you next week, then.’ Gabe got into his car and drove off, Ava and I waving to him as he went.
‘What the fuckity-duck was all that there?’ Ava asked, waving her hand at me as we got in my car.
‘Shut up.’
‘No.’ She buckled her seat belt and then sniffed. ‘Wait. What is that?’ She scrunched her nose and sniffed again. She took the scarf she had tied around her hair to protect it during the butter brawl and sniffed it and her hair. Her armpits, the dashboard. Then she leaned across the center console and sniffed me. ‘Oh God! It’s you!’
‘What?’ I sniffed myself. I did smell like butter and soap, but it wasn’t rank.
‘It smells like – oh my God!’ She held her nose. ‘Gayhormones!’
I shifted into drive. ‘Oh, shut up!’
‘No, it smells like … cold brew and the way Dua Lipa looks.’ She rolled down her window and held her head out. ‘Oh God, it’s sogay!’
‘Screw you!’ But I was still laughing.
‘It’s like if you baked a cake, had sex with the cake, taught the cake how to walk in heels, and denied the cake its civil liberties for centuries.’
‘All right, that’s enough.’ I was laughing so hard tears were coming to my eyes. We stopped at the guard shack, saying goodbye to the night watchman, Danny.
‘Danny!’ Ava shouted over me. ‘Do you know what gay love smells like?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Latex?’
‘Daniel!’ Ava sounded scandalized as he laughed and raised the gate for us.
We pulled out of the Sunset Estates complex and headed back toward Ava’s house.
‘So what’s the deal?’ Ava asked. ‘Does he even remember you two had a summer fling?’
