Sybil looked down into her lap, fumbling with her sleeved hands. “It’s been a while since I had a friend,” she admitted. “Cat’s my friend, but, you know, she’s old enough to be my grandmother.” She laughed.
Bee nodded. “I always think as long as you’ve got one good friend, you’re set. Any more than that just seems like work. You just need that one ride-or-die and everything is good. Lucky for you, I don’t have one at the moment. The position is open if you want it.” She winked at me. “Sorry, Nash. You can’t apply.”
“We’ll have to share her,” I protested. “It’s not like I have friends either.”
Bee chortled. “That’s cause you work too much. Your best friend is the coffee machine in the workroom.”
“Speaking of coffee, does anyone need more?” I ventured.
Sybil and Bee both raised their hands.
“And go to the store so we can get started!” Bee whined. “I’m ready to day-drink. It’ll help digest all that bacon.”
Sybil agreed.
???
Returning from the bodega a few blocks away, a few hours had passed since our couch planning session. Bill greeted me at the door, chattering a series of barks and rooting his nose into the bags.
“You can’t stand not knowing what is in a bag, can you?” I mumbled to him.
I’d bought the store clean of every essential junk food item. Three bags in one hand, and loaded up with bottles of beer and wine in the other. I deposited all of it on the island before shucking off my coat and placing it over a stool. The floor wasquiet; the girls were nowhere to be found.
My phone dinged, the sound bouncing around the space.
Bee:We’re in the basement! Bring everything down here. I’ll set it up at the bar.
Me:Sure.
I grabbed the bags and bottles and made my way down to the garden floor. Walking into the movie room, I placed the bags on the bar. Beginning to unpack them, I assessed the situation of the room.
Our movie theater was cozy, with a large floor to ceiling screen, projector, and surround sound. We had comfortable chairs, but it appeared Bee and Sybil had pushed them to the back of the room. In its place, a chaotic pile of pillows and blankets spread out.
I felt at this point I should be concerned with Bee’s need to re-live our childhood with Sybil, but when I saw the grin on Sybil’s face as they talked, Bee’s efforts were worth it.
Maybe it’s human nature to crave the company of others. Some parts of us must possess an innate ability to socialize, waiting to be unlocked under the right circumstances. Our survival as a species hinges on cooperation, after all.
I removed the beer and put it in the fridge under the bar to keep cool. Unpacking all the snacks, I lined them up on the counter. I set the toaster oven to the air-fry function and began warming the pretzel bites.
Even though a lot of this reminded me of high school—drinking beer in a basement while all myfriends stayed over—it was all new to Sybil. I realized then the many facets of Bee’s plans with this single night.
Sybil was sitting in the middle of the pile. Mr. Beans perched atop one chair against the wall, looking happy overseeing the construction of the space. The girls were both in matching fluffy white pajamas that looked soft and inviting. I knew right away it would be hard not to touch Sybil. She looked like a cloud begging to be gathered in my arms.
My jaw clenched, teeth grinding. I tried to steel my emotions, feeling almost nervous for the first time in a long time. I pulled out a few champagne flutes. When the top popped off the bottle, they noticed me.
“Yay!” Bee shot up, making her way across the blankets to the counter and snatching up a flute.
I was just able to place my hand around the second before she grabbed that one, too.
She frowned at me.
I frowned at her. “I’ll give it to her.”
She narrowed her eyes, but gave up and made her way back to the blankets.
Grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge, I made my way around the bar, toeing off my shoes and making my way to the opposite side of Sybil, sandwiching her between Bee and I.Handing Sybil the glass of champagne, I let our fingers brush. I sat down with my beer, bringing it to my lips and watching her down the barrel of the bottle.
She looked at the champagne with hungry eyes. “Thank you.”
