Chapter 36 Crystal
Crystal
“So who’s watching Charlie?” I asked after I gave Geneva a kiss on her cheek.
I caught a whiff of cologne. That was strange.
“Oh, Eric is,” Geneva said as she pulled out a chair and sat down.
She was still dressed in her blue and white waitress uniform. Some customers stared openly at her, and even the waitress gawked for a moment when she came over to take our drink orders.
I wasn’t going to say anything about it. If she was comfortable with it, I was too.
“Um,” Geneva said as she scanned the drink menu, “do you have a late-harvest Riesling?”
My mouth almost dropped open. Geneva almost always drank Corona beer, and on the rare occasion that she didn’t, it was usually a rum and Coke, but wine? And calling it by name? Who was this woman?
“And you?” The waitress turned to me.
“I’ll have a rum punch,” I said before I could catch myself. I saw Geneva’s eyebrows climb her forehead, but she said nothing.
“So you’re wearing a new scent?” Geneva had been a Jean Naté girl since she was ten years old, so this masculine-smelling perfume she’d adopted seemed to be out of character for her.
“No,” Geneva responded, surprised. “Why?”
“Oh, you smell like you have something on that’s kind of, I don’t know, woodsy.”
“Woodsy?”
“Well, to be truthful it smells like a cologne that Kendrick used to wear.”
Geneva’s face looked confused, and then I swear I saw a lightbulb go off in her head.
“Oh, oh, yeah, I remember now,” she laughed guiltily. “I squirted on one of Eric’s colognes this morning.”
Lie!
I gave her a hard look. She wasn’t being truthful; I could tell because she’d answered me without looking up and now she was fiddling with her napkin.
“Uh-huh, and why would you do a thing like that?” I probed.
“?’Cause I’m grown,” Geneva spat, and snatched up her menu.
I just blinked.
I was about to prod further when Chevy breezed in.
“Hey, hos!” she yelled happily.
“I told you I don’t like that. It’s just as bad as referring to us as bitches,” I grumbled.
“Oh, Crystal, loosen up,” Chevy chastised, and then threw Geneva a slanted glance. “What is this, a new fashion statement or something?” she said, flicking the collar of Geneva’s uniform with the tip of her index finger.
“Don’t start with me, Chevy. You called me at the last minute and demanded that we all be here by seven—I didn’t have time to change. And here you are strolling in late.”
“As usual,” I said. “So what’s the emergency?”
“Nothing, really, I just needed to be with my girls,” Chevy said as she snapped her fingers in order to get the waitress’s attention.
Geneva and I exchanged looks.
“So how’s the new job?” Geneva asked in between sips of her wine.
Chevy opened her mouth and then closed it. “Are you drinking wine, Geneva?” she asked in amazement.
“Yes. And?” Geneva rolled her head on her neck.
Chevy just made a face and then turned and looked at me and then down at my drink. “And what the hell is that?”
“Rum punch,” I mumbled.
Chevy’s eyes rocked between us. “Am I high? None of these things is right. You don’t like fruity drinks with umbrellas,” she said, pointing to me before swinging her finger to Geneva. “And you certainly don’t drink wine!”
Geneva and I said nothing.
“What’s going on here?” Chevy asked, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms.
“Nothing,” Geneva and I said at the same time. We exchanged glances; we knew something was certainly going on with the other, but what?