I put on an old show and snuggled under my new covers, wishing I had a pet of some kind to snuggle. A dog, a cat, I didn’t really care. Just something cute and furry to keep me company and sleep in my bed. Of course, with all my luck I’d get an animal that would hate cuddling and would destroy all my shit. Plus, I didn’t think Emma would go for it. Pets were messy and complicated things.
I tried my meditation app, but my brain wouldn’t empty out the way I wanted it to. I couldn’t push away the thoughts and just focus on my breath, and it was getting really annoying.
All I wanted to do was relax and sleep, but my brain wasn’t letting me do that. I tried again and again to let those thoughts go, but they wouldn’t leave me alone. They weren’t even thoughts, really. Not anything fully formed; just little bits of something that kept whizzing by.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at my door. It could only be one person, because a murderer probably wouldn’t knock.
“Yeah?” I asked, and the door opened a crack and Emma poked her head in.
“I can’t sleep. I don’t know why. Can I hang out with you for a little bit?” I scrambled to sit up.
“Uh, sure.” She sat on the end of my bed, crossing her legs and grabbing one of my pillows to hold onto.
“Something on your mind? You should use my meditation app,” I said. Not that it had been working for me.
“I’m just thinking about all this change and how okay with it I am. You know me, I don’t like it when things are different.” Yes, I did know. I’d been witness to more than one of Emma’s breakdowns when we were kids and something was different. It was one of the reasons I was so shocked when she actually quit her job and enrolled in school. I had the feeling she’d had a few breakdowns over that, but she’d hidden them from me.
“I know, but you’re doing so awesome. I’m really proud of you and so grateful that I’m here. I can’t tell you how wonderful it is that I’m not listening to Eddie banging her horrible boyfriend and him asking if he could jizz on her face.” We both shuddered.
“You’re not going to hear that here, that’s for sure,” Emma said with a little laugh. “You can bring people here, you know. If you wanted to. This is your apartment and if you wanted to bring someone home, you could. Just so you know.” Her voice was quiet and she pulled at a thread on my pillow, twirling it around her finger once it came free.
“Oh, okay. I mean, same for you? Not that you need my permission or anything.” Why did talking about dating always get so weird with Emma? Why couldn’t we talk about this kind of stuff?
“I mean, I’m probably not going to be picking anyone up anytime soon because it would be a little weird if you bumped into her and I had to introduce you as my best friend and wife.”
“Fake wife, but I’m not sure if that would make a whole lot of sense to anyone but us,” I said. Hell, it didn’t make sense to me and I was living it.
She lapsed into silence and I could tell that she was working something through in her mind, but she didn’t want to say it out loud yet. I waited until I couldn’t take the suspense anymore.
“Something else on your mind, Em?” Sometimes getting at what was really bothering her out was like trying to reach a grape that had rolled under the fridge.
“Nothing,” she said, putting the pillow back and getting up. I definitely wasn’t still thinking about that cheek kiss from earlier and if she was going to do it again when she said goodnight. Not at all.
“Okay. Um, goodnight? Unless you want to snuggle a little.” I moved over and held the blanket up so she could climb in with me.
“No, that’s okay. I should get back to my own bed,” she said. I didn’t know why that was so disappointing, but it was. Almost as if I’d been rejected, but that was silly. She was going to bed, like I should be doing. What did I expect, that she was going to climb in and sleep the whole night with me?
“Goodnight, again,” she said, backing out of the room and giving me a little wave. No second kiss for me then.
“Goodnight,” I said, as she shut the door. “I wish I had a puppy.”
“What?” she said, opening the door again. I guess she’d heard me.
“Nothing, goodnight.” She gave me a look, but I waved her off. “Going to sleep now.”
“Me too.” The door closed and I lay back and stared at the ceiling for a moment.
My cheek still tingled from where her lips had touched it.
I didn’t get much sleep, but I woke up in a great mood because I was going to spend the day with Emma, my favorite person. I also awoke to the smell of bacon, which was the best way to wake up, in my opinion.
I stretched and opened my eyes to an unfamiliar room. For a moment, I had forgotten that I lived with Emma.
Yawning, I headed out and found her in the kitchen standing over a pan of bacon, dancing to Dolly Parton. What was a girl to do but grab a spatula and sing into it like a mic with her? She burst out laughing, and I jumped away from the bacon pan so I didn’t get splattered by hot grease.
“Good morning to you too,” she said, tipping the bacon onto a plate that was covered in a paper towel. “I’ve got bacon and biscuits with eggs and cheese if you want. Oh, and there’s strawberries.” I had definitely leveled up my breakfasts since moving here. “My bacon,” she said in that creepy voice, and I shuddered.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, brushing her shoulder with my hand and then backing off when she jumped and turned the music down so we could hear each other. Emma moved away from me and started getting out silverware.
“I love making breakfast on the weekends. During the week it’s toast and coffee, but weekends are made for elaborate breakfasts, in my opinion.” I couldn’t argue with her there. Plus, I got to eat said breakfast.
Emma loaded up our plates and we sat on stools at the kitchen island.
“It’s so quiet here,” I said. Even the noise from the street was peaceful, unlike at my old apartment, which was on a main street and only a block away from both a hospital and a fire station. Sirens, all the freaking time. I’d never gotten used to the wailing at all hours of the day and night.
Emma set her fork down and sipped at her orange juice. “I’m glad you like it, and I’m glad you’re here. I keep forgetting that I don’t live alone anymore.” I couldn’t remember ever living alone. I’d been surrounded by family or roommates my whole life. I’d probably start talking to the walls or something if I was alone that much.
“Can’t relate, but it sounds nice.”
“It was, but it got pretty lonely sometimes. I thought about getting a cat or something, but I’d have to get one of those hairless ones and they’re so ugly.” I gasped and dropped my fork dramatically.
“Excuse me, hairless cats are the ugliest little cute things in the world. Let’s get a hairless cat!” I clasped my hands in a begging posture. I had never wanted a hairless cat before this moment but now I wanted one more than anything. Impulsive Callyn strikes again.
Emma made a face. “Ew, no. You may think they’re cute, but I will never come around to them. We might look at a different kind of pet, though. Do you want to get a pet? You mentioned something about it last night.” Yeah, she definitely heard me.
I stood up so fast that I knocked the stool over in my excitement. “Um, yes? Having a pet would make my life a hundred percent less sucky.” Emma laughed and munched on her bacon daintily. I’d eaten mine first because it was the best part of breakfast. Plus, Emma always got the good bacon. Thick-cut, with plenty of spice.
Emma rolled her eyes. “That seems like an exaggeration, but if you want to look at the shelter, we can. I don’t think we should get anything with scales, or that requires a heat lamp. I also don’t like the idea of having to feed something mice.” I agreed with that.
“Can we get a puppy? You know I’ve always wanted a dog.” My parents would never let me have one because I wouldn’t be “responsible” enough to take care of it. My older sister got a fucking
horse for her birthday. Granted, it was a rental horse, but still. They always said they loved us the same, but then they would do shit like that and make it pretty obvious they were liars.
Emma pinched the bottom corner of her lip between her teeth. That meant I was wearing her down. “I don’t know, Cal. That seems like a lot. Are you up for puppy training? I’m going to be in school a lot and if you get a new job . . .” she trailed off when she saw the pout on my face.
“Please?” I begged, pushing my lip out for maximum pout. I knew exactly what buttons to push to get my way with her ninety-nine percent of the time.
Emma narrowed her eyes and slowly shook her head. It was working.
“You’re a real menace, you know that?” I smelled victory. It smelled like thick-cut bacon.
“Yes, but I’m a menace who’s getting a puppy with my best friend-slash-fake wife.” Emma sighed and rested her head on the table.
Her voice was muffled when she spoke. “This is going to blow up in my face, I know it.” I let out a little victory squeal and grabbed both of our plates.
“I’ll deal with the dishes,” I said. It was the least I could do. I rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher before starting on the pans she’d cooked with, making sure to turn the music back up again. Dancing made everything better, even dishes, so I started to boogie and sing at the same time. I knew all the words to all the Dolly.
“We should get going,” she said, grabbing the frying pan from me and quickly drying it with a dishtowel so she could hang it up again on the little rack above the kitchen island.
I dried my hands and turned to face her. Emma stepped close to me with a strange look on her face. She reached toward me and wiped something from the same cheek she’d kissed last night.
“You had some soap on your face,” she said, her voice so soft that it was barely above a whisper.
“Thanks,” I said loudly. I couldn’t move. An alarm on Emma’s phone went off and we both jumped a mile. Emma had alarms set for just about everything, including getting ready to go out. All that organization would do the opposite and stress me the fuck out, but I guess I was going to be living with it now. Maybe her habits would finally rub off on me?
“Time to get dressed,” she said, looking up from the phone before she turned around to head to her bedroom. I leaned back against the sink for a second. I needed the support. My heart was still racing, and it wasn’t because of the alarm. What was going on with me? Was I having some sort of breakdown? What was going ON?
Eventually I got my shit together (as much as I ever could) and went to my room to get ready. I wanted to look nice for Nova’s latest show, so I picked out my favorite floral romper that made me feel like I needed to frolic everywhere, and paired it with wedges and loosely braided my light brown hair. Just a little bit of color on my cheeks and brows completed everything.
I was the first one in the living room and was messing around on my phone when Emma emerged from her room. I dropped my phone on the floor with a thunk. I was too busy staring at her to worry about the potential of a screen crack.
“You, uh, look—” I couldn’t think of a word. I’d forgotten how to word. I swear I’d forgotten how to breathe.
Emma’s brows knit together in concern. “You okay?” she asked, brushing her fingers down the dress to smooth nonexistent wrinkles in the tropical print dress. It had a thigh slit that fluttered open when she moved and had large pink flowers on a white background.
“Yeah, fine,” I said, finally picking up my phone. No screen cracks. “I’ve just got leg envy. You look fantastic.” I stood on my own shaking legs and followed behind her as she grabbed her bag and keys from the table near the door. Right. I needed those things also. I slung my bag over my shoulder and joined her in the hallway.
I caught a whiff of orange from her hair as she locked the door. She must have sprayed it in the bathroom. Her dark ringlets were loose and pulled back on one side with a few bobby pins. Effortless casual elegance. I could never.
“You look really good,” I said, at a loss for anything else.
“Well, thank you. You look really great too. I’ve always loved that romper on you.” I did a little curtsy and ended up tipping over a little. On my best days, I wasn’t the most coordinated.
“Guess that needs a little work before I meet the queen. Do you still have to curtsy to the queen? Is that a thing? Or do you just sort of bow over her hand? I’m sure someone’s written an article online about this,” I babbled as we headed down the stairs.
“I’ll look up some tutorials for you, just in case,” Emma said.
NOVA’S GALLERY WAS only a few stops on the train away from our apartment, so we didn’t bother to take a car. Of course I was limp and sweaty by the time we got to the gallery and climbed the stairs. Emma looked slightly windswept and incredible. I pulled a tissue out of my bag and blotted my face. Ugh.
“Is my hair okay?” I asked, using my phone to check the damage that the Boston wind had done. Most days there was no point in styling because it was just a waste of time when you stepped out the door.
“Yeah, it’s perfect,” she said, tucking a few pieces behind my ear, her finger lingering a little before she stepped through the doorway into the gallery. I shook myself a little and swallowed before I followed her.
The show was a joint venture between Nova and two of her friends. Nova was the painter, her friend Skye did photography, and the third member, Dierdre, did incredible wire sculptures. I always joked they should form a band and conquer the music world too.
Emma pressed a plastic glass of cheap wine into my hand and I looked for both Nova and the snack table. I found the former first.
“Hey, thanks for coming,” she said, breezing over and giving us both hugs. She was dressed to impress in a gold sequin tube dress with her hair pushed back with a gold headband and gold shadow on her lids. Literal goddess.
“Are you the art?” I asked, and she laughed.
“You’re ridiculous and I love you. Okay, I have to go do my thing, but I hope you enjoy, there’s food in the back.” Nova flitted away to chat and talk with Serious Art People.
“Shall we browse?” Emma asked, and we started on the left side of the room, moving from painting to sculpture. They had gotten inspired by the stories of Black women and children who were homeless, and just scanning the show was like a punch in the gut. Incredible. A part of the proceeds of the sale of any of the art went toward various charities helping black women and children afford housing and other necessities.
“I feel like I’m not smart or worthy enough for this,” I said to Emma.
“Shhh, we don’t have to get it. We just have to appreciate it and be supportive. Art is subjective.” Right. We made it to the back and headed for the food table.
“Now this is a work of art,” I said, picking up a little spinach and artichoke tart.
“Don’t say that too loud,” Emma whispered, getting me a little plate to pile my snacks on. I did some serious damage with the hors d’oeuvres before getting back to the other side of the show. I started to appreciate the art more once I had food and one glass of wine in me. The power in the work was so intense, I had to wipe a few tears at Nova’s piece featuring a mother holding her child sitting on a sidewalk outside a shelter. I shared a look with Emma and there were tears in her eyes too. We weren’t the only ones.
“Our friend is really talented and I feel like a loser in comparison,” I said, when we’d reached the final piece that was a sculpture Dierdre had made that was simply called Joy that was a child standing with her face upturned, her eyes closed, and a sweet smile on her face.
“You say that at every one of Nova’s shows,” Emma pointed out. “You have your own talents, Callyn. So what if you can’t capture something like this?” She pointed to a painting of a woman looking out of a dirty window, her chin resting in her hand.
I put my hands up and looked around. “What are my talents? Where are they? Besides always s
pilling food on myself?” I pointed to the spot on my romper. I’d been as careful as I could, and yet.
Emma pulled me aside so we were alone in a deserted corner. “Listen to me, Callyn, you’re the best best friend someone could ask for. You’re loyal as hell, you always find the joy in any situation, you’re funny as fuck, you make the best grilled cheese sandwiches ever, you’re good at stacking a dishwasher, you have a remarkable knowledge for random bird species, you always know how to make me feel better when I feel like shit, and you look really, really good in a romper. Is that good, or should I keep going?” I was rendered speechless. I’d been at a loss for words so many times today.
I sputtered a few times. Emma stood so close to me that it was hard to breathe. “Um, that’s good for now but I might want some more later?”
“How about some more wine?” she asked, and I nodded. She went back to the food table as I tried to compose myself.
“You doing okay?” Nova was back with Sammi on her arm. Sammi was also dressed in gold, with velvet pants and a matching jacket and black boots.
“You both look incredible,” I said, while I waited for Emma to come back. Nova was so tall, and Sammi was petite, but they fit together so perfectly. Standing next to them made you almost high on the love they shared for one another.
“We do, don’t we?” Nova said, kissing Sammi’s head.
“I told you these pants were a good idea. You said I’d never have anywhere to wear them, and look at me now.” Sammi twirled, and Nova tilted her head to the side.
“I never said you wouldn’t have anywhere to wear them, babe. If I remember correctly, I complimented the way your ass looks in them because hell yes,” she said, and they both laughed. I felt like I was intruding and it was a relief when Emma returned, this time with more wine and a plate of mini cakes.
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