I should never have let so much time pass between eating meals she made.
The next forkful delivered a few more noodles and this time I could taste the touch of sage and browned butter in the sauce. Damn, this woman was good. She should go on Iron Chef or something. Did that show even still exist? I'd loved it but Rick had hated it, said that it took no talent to cook, which was why I did all the cooking. He certainly didn't have the talent for it.
Bite after bite filled me with a delicious sense of fullness and soon enough the bowl was empty.
After cramming the to-go container in the garbage can, I went to see what I had to wear. I wasn't exactly excited about the choices that awaited me.
I hadn’t brought a single thing with me that was appropriate for wearing to a club, unless mom jeans and a v-neck tee were club outfits these days. Wouldn't that be nice? Let women be comfy when they go out. Who wants to stuff themselves into spiked heels and tight dresses with our hair and makeup done to hell and back? Couldn't we just wear whatever we wanted, throw our hair up in a messy bun, and call it done? I mean, that's what they would get eventually anyway. We're all just deceiving ourselves if we expect to be picture perfect all the time. Would Beth still take me to the club in my mom jeans?
Somehow I doubted it.
I didn't even check my bags, knowing there was nothing waiting for me in there. Wincing, I opened my closet door.
As I’d suspected. It was mostly empty. I slid the few hangers from one side to the other. After our parents funeral we had donated most of their clothing, except for a few pieces we couldn't stand to part with. That wasn't my goal, though. No way was I wearing one of my mom's old dresses, unless it was retro night or something, and even then I wouldn't want to risk it. We held on to them because of sentimental reasons, which meant I wasn't about to accidentally wreck it just because I needed something to wear to a vampire club.
No, my goal was the few things that I'd left behind, ones that Henry had moved in here when he converted my old bedroom. The first thing that caught my eye was my high school cheerleading outfit. There was the bridesmaids dress I'd worn at Deva’s wedding, a few old pairs of jeans that I loved and had decorated myself with patches and embroidery, and a couple flowy, summery skirts that I'd thought were the coolest thing when I bought them, although seeing at them now I probably looked like I belonged at some kind of commune. Then, at the back, behind my high school graduation robe, a slinky black dress. I was surprised I’d even left it, but it had blended in with the dark fabric of my robe. If I hadn't noticed the final hanger hook then I probably wouldn't have looked any further.
There was no way this thing was fitting. I was a good twenty pounds heavier, and it was only a little bit in the boobs.
But it was literally the only appropriate thing to wear, so I tried it.
Oh, damn. What about shoes?
When it came to shoes, I knew I had too many but I couldn't help it. They were so pretty and there were so many different styles. It was because of how many I had, and therefore had packed, that I thought I may actually have something appropriate to wear. I grabbed my suitcase and rifled through, grinning triumphantly when my fingers slid over some familiar black leather. I’d brought low-heeled, black ankle boots. They’d work great. See, the thing was, even though I had a bunch of shoes, I only ever wore a few pairs. I saved the others for just the right occasion, which never really came.
Ten minutes later, I had my hair in a high ponytail and a couple of layers of mascara on, some shiny lip gloss, and was ready to step out front with my phone and debit card and ID in my bra to wait for Beth. It was nearly ten, anyway.
Standing awkwardly, I tugged at my dress. I couldn’t believe this thing had fit after all these years. It was a good thing it was so damn stretchy.
Spandex was very forgiving, and it wrinkled in the right places to hide the small belly pouch I still carried all these years later from having Travis. Not that I'd trade it for the world.
I heard Beth coming before she pulled up. When she drove into the driveway, I realized why. She was in a bright red convertible with the top down, blaring pop music from our high school and college years.
Oh, blast from the past, hello. I hurried around the car and slid into the passenger seat. “Hey, hon!” I called over the music. “Our youth called. It wants to go to bed.”
She burst out laughing and backed out of the driveway as I yawned for the first time, but not the last.
The songs effortlessly wove in and out of one another, dredging up all kinds of memories. The song that everyone was obsessed with our senior year came on and I burst out laughing.
"I can't believe you have this on a playlist. Didn't you get sick of it?" I asked, faux surprise on my face as I secretly loved listening to it again.
Beth grinned. "I mean, yeah, but it's good to reminisce. Remember when Charlie fell on her ass carrying her lunch and ended up covered in chocolate milk and tomato soup? This was playing on that stereo the popular kids had. See? Memories."
"Oh, remember when Jimmy and Kristen got written up for dancing too provocatively to this at the homecoming dance?" I gasped, the memory coming out of nowhere. I hadn't thought about either of them in decades.
"Detention for a week! How could I forget that? Biggest scandal of the year!"
The song changed to one that was slightly more obscure. "Oh, I bet you don't remember all the lyrics to this one," I said, daring her.
"Please! I know these songs from front to back," Beth said a second before she jumped in on the lyrics, singing along flawlessly.
Her enthusiasm was such that I couldn't help but join in. The wind whipped my hair around and I lifted my hands, letting the air rush over my skin as I felt the joy at simply being with one of my best friends and singing songs we grew up with fill my heart. We used to do the same thing back in the day. Drive around, sing songs, gossip. For a moment, I flashed back to us as teenagers and wondered what my teen self would think of my adult self. Whatever it was I didn't care. I was happy. It may have just been for a few minutes, but I was truly happy. It had been much longer than I cared to admit since I felt this way. This relaxed, this much myself.
I sang at the top of my lungs until Beth pulled off the road and into a parking lot. It was pretty much the only club in town, considering we were barely big enough for a second grocery store. The concrete and metal facade had a bit of an ultra modern look to it. All sharp angles and rectangles.
It looked like every twenty-something in town was here, based on the line at the door. “This doesn’t look like a vampire club,” I said when Beth shut off the engine.
She grinned at me. “Just you wait.”
