‘Hey, it’s Keiko and Soraya!’ Lara gave the sort of animated wave that in a lesser bar would result in a jug of beer being sloshed across the floor and someone yelling,Taxi!
The two friends waved as they saw us. Each was carrying a pumpkin, and they were comparing notes on how best to carve theirs.
‘It’s our Tuesday night out on the town,’ said Soraya, who was in sweeping wide-legged pants and a halter-neck top. A dramatic painted-macaroni necklace, definitely Ernie’s handiwork, clacked on her neck. ‘Nicola’s watching Ernie, and I have it on good authority that they’re going to be watchingFinding Nemofor the thousandth time.’
‘It’s Ernie. Ernie’s the authority,’ said Keiko, who was vibrant in clashing pinks and oranges. She wore about ten friendship bracelets on one arm – I didn’t have to guess too hard what the kids had been working on at art camp that day.
‘He adds extra lines for Sealy every time,’ said Soraya, with a laugh. ‘It’s the Ernie director’s cut.’
‘Nicola’s a good sport,’ I said with a laugh. ‘Ernie’s so cute, though. I’d listen to his bonus feature commentary any time.’
‘So, are we ready to carve pumpkins?’ asked Lara, drumming her hands on the table. ‘Because I am ready to carve to the death to win this photoshoot.’
‘I just need to loosen up my carving arm, and then I’m all for it,’ said Soraya. ‘I pre-gamed with rum ice cream, but it didn’t have the effect I was after. Ididbring some specialized tools, though.’
She flashed her purse, showing off several decorative ice-cream scoops.
‘I’m amazed you got through security with those,’ I said.
‘I brought some safety scissors,’ said Keiko, showing off her own purse stash. ‘And some googly eyes.’
‘Always thinking of the kids,’ I said with a laugh. ‘Although if you have any spare craft supplies, don’t keep them to yourself.’
Soraya and Keiko ordered a pitcher of pomegranate punch, which appeared promptly.
‘The staff here are getting hotter by the day,’ whispered Keiko, as one of the bartenders set down the pitcher in front of her, then raced down to the other end of the bar to serve two witchy types: sisters, from the looks of it, although they couldn’t be more different. I knew how that went.
‘Anything, just so long as it’s not purple,’ the blonde was saying.
The brunette was nodding absently – she had a book out and was trying to get in a spot of reading while they waited for their drinks.
Turning her attention back to us, Keiko offered the pitcher around, then poured herself and Soraya a glass.
‘Careful, or you’ll confuse Molly even further,’ said Lara. ‘You definitely don’t want to add an extra possibility to the mix.’
‘Here, we need more pumpkin-carving space,’ said Sorayadefinitively. She steered us over to a green velvet booth with bench seating in the back corner.
‘Still no luck with your whole Finn and Noah situation?’ Keiko slid into the booth, carefully managing her pitcher and drink. Great. Everyone in town had heard about my romantic woes.
‘It’s not really about luck,’ I said, rolling Gourdy onto the table. ‘They’re both great. Which is the whole problem.’
‘You two are single, right?’ said Lara, jabbing her elongated pumpkin in the direction of Soraya and Keiko. ‘King Richard here wants to know your take on this whole thing.’
‘The king would not meddle in the affairs of peasants,’ said Tiff with a huff. ‘He’d say choose neither. Go join a nunnery.’
‘Ignore her,’ I said, threatening to roll Gourdy at my sister.
Soraya chuckled. Propping an elbow on her own pumpkin, she launched into storytelling mode. ‘Well, I had a dalliance in Paris that was great until he ran off with my passport and this incredible wheel of cheese I’d bought at the market. So I guess I could’ve chosen smarter, instead of just going for someone really good-looking, andsoFrench. But I got Ernie out of the deal, so no regrets.’
‘He’s the literal best,’ said Tiff, picking through the pumpkin-carving knives on the table. She pointed a serrated-edged one at me. ‘Although Molly, don’t go getting any ideas.’
I shot Keiko a pleading look. ‘Keiko? Please save me.’
Keiko spun her pumpkin on the table, assessing its sculptural possibilities. ‘If you want my input, singledom suits who I am and how I want to live my life. I’m happy with my cereal dinners and my British murder mysteries.’
Hmm, this was notunconvincing.
‘Cereal dinners sound very compelling,’ I offered.
