I lived in a city of millions, but somehow I was still alone. With each passing day, the possibility of finding a good man seemed further out of reach. Would I eventually give up? Only time would tell.
“Every time I come to one of these meat markets, I lose even more faith in humanity,” Liz said, interrupting my grim contemplations.
I hung my head. “Is it sad that I’d rather be at home curled up with a good book and a glass of wine?”
“I’m right there with you,” she commiserated.
“So, let’s get out of here. We can grab booze on the way home.”
5
Kicking back on Liz’s bed, a far more comfortable option than the lumpy hand-me-down that served as our living room sofa, we’d managed to nearly plow through the two bottles of wine we’d picked up on the way home from Schwilly Pete’s. We’d passed tipsy some time ago and had stumbled over into drunk territory, which Liz endorsed by inadvertently dribbling wine from her mouth as she sniggered at some dumb joke I’d made. “There’s a hole in my lip!” she exclaimed, making me crack up.
It had been a while since I’d been inebriated—I couldn’t remember the last time I’d hadanyalcoholic drink, actually. The foggy bliss that had settled over my brain was a welcome breather from all the stress and anxiety that had been plaguing me, yet underneath the haze remained a splinter of pain that would occasionally slice to the surface, reminding me of Nick’s cheating. But I would take whatever small delights I could get. I wish Liz had never brought him up, since now he was taking up precious real estate in my brain that could be used for things more important than him. Remembering to take out the trash, for instance.
Liz and her boyfriend had been attached at the hip as of late, so it was nice spending time in the apartment with just my roomie. It wasn’t that I didn’t like David. On the contrary, I thought he was a great guy, especially since he was always friendly to me and treated Liz like a queen. Still, it was the worst, being a third wheel in my own home.
They, of course, didn’t make me feel like a gatecrasher intentionally. Sometimes, though, like when the three of us would watch a movie together, the way they’d make out under their blanket and have giggly little side conversations made me uncomfortable. Resentful, even, since they acted as if I wasn’t even there. Like I, a voyeur intruding on activities meant to be private, should apologize for my presence. Which was ridiculous. What was I supposed to do, hide in my room like a little mouse until David went home?
Not wanting them to dismiss my irritation as sour grapes, I never made passive-aggressive comments along the lines of, “David, you’re here . . .again,” though there’d been more than a few occasions when I’d been tempted to. He had an apartment nearby, so they could have gone there as easily, which they never did. Liz had mentioned that David’s roommate, a virtual stranger he’d found through an online want ad, was weird—apparently, he also smelled of stale cheese—so I suspected that might be what was keeping them away.
Liz and I had just started to discuss what else we could drink now that the wine was gone when she clamped a hand over her mouth. She knocked her empty glass to the floor, pushing me out of the way. “Sick!” she yelled as she sprinted toward the bathroom, though it came out sounding likesoiiiikkkk, since she was on the brink of hurling. From the sound of it, she made it to the toilet just in time.
I shuddered, not envying her one bit. I was beginning to suspect that our side trip to the Mexican food drive-thru hadn’t been such a hot idea. “I believe this ten-dollar merlot will pair nicely with a greasy plate of nachos and beef burrito with extra sour cream,” said no one since the dawn of fast food. A sharp headache was budding behind my right eye, I suddenly realized—if signs of a hangover begin to show while you’re still intoxicated, youknowit’s going to be a doozy—but I was thankful that at least I wasn’t nauseous. I quickly knocked on wood.
I started to feel guilty for loafing while Liz continued to barf. I flung back the chenille bedspread we’d been sharing and staggered to my feet, my brain sloshing around inside my skull. As I crouched to pick up Liz’s glass, I noticed a royal blue velvet box on the bottom shelf of her nightstand. I’d been in her room hundreds of times in the past and hadn’t noticed it, so I knew it that it hadn’t been there long.
Being drunk as a skunk and thus neglectful of boundaries, I opened it instead of minding my own business. I’d been expecting jewelry, so I was perplexed by the key inside, which had a purple satin ribbon looped through its center. Weird.
I returned the box to the shelf and shuffled into the bathroom, where I found Liz hunched over the toilet. Drool seeped from her mouth. She moaned.
“You look tore up from the floor up,” I said, snapping my fingers. The noise reverberated through my ears like a banging drum. “Ouch.”
Liz turned her head into the bowl to dry heave.
“Want me to get you anything?” I asked, hoping she wasn’t going to request something that required effort. Water and aspirin I could do, but if Liz wanted toast and ginger ale she was out of luck. We didn’t have either.
“Can you bring me a time machine so I can travel back and talk myself out of inhaling eighteen pounds off nachos? Nachos . . . Oh . . . God.” I looked away as she retched into the toilet.
“Maybe we shouldn’t bring up food anymore,” I suggested, starting to feel a little queasy myself.
Liz wiped at her face with the back of her hand. “I’m good. I just need to sleep it off.” I helped her up, holding my breath as she exhaled on me. She rinsed her mouth at the sink and then we headed toward our bedrooms.
At my door, I paused. “Hey, what’s up with the key in the box? Is there a new jewelry trend, wearing a key like a necklace?”
She frowned. “Why were you snooping in my room?” Her words were slurring together,snoopinginmmmmmmyroommmmmmm.Now that I thought about it, she had been refilling her wine glass a lot faster than me.
“I wasn’t. I saw it when I picked up the glass you knocked over,” I said piously. “It was sitting out in the open—” kind of “—so I assumed it wasn’t anything you didn’t want me to see. We go into each other’s closets like every day, so I didn’t think—”
“It’s fine,” she interrupted. “I just feel bad that you had to find out this way.”
I had absolutely no idea what she could be talking about. “Findwhatout?”
“David’s asked me to move in with him.”
“Oh.” A key. Of course. I should have seen that one coming, but that didn’t stop me from feeling blindsided.
“I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you. I hadn’t planned on it being while we were shitfaced.”
