1
Milo
At the crash of my front door, my brush slipped from my fingers to plonk into the cup of water I used to rinse between colors. Considering how often it happened, you’d think I’d be used to it by now.
“Hey, babes! I’m home,“
my housemate and best friend shouted at the top of her lungs.
I swiveled on my stool with an exasperated sigh to grab a paper towel to clean up the water that had splashed onto the folding table. Luckily, none of the discolored water had gotten into my premixed color swatches.
“There you are!“
Cheryl exclaimed as she burst into the room. Her face had the rosy glow of excitement, which made the freckles on her nose even darker against her tawny beige, perpetually flawless skin. I shook my head but couldn’t tamp down a little smile at her theatrics. After two years of being roommates and another three before that of being “besties”, I was convinced Cheryl only had the one setting.
“I’m exactly where I always am,“
I said as I tossed the used towel at the bin… and missed.
“Which is why…“
She trailed off dramatically while she grabbed the spare chair I kept in my studio (aka the former dining room in our cramped townhouse) and spun it closer before plopping into it.
I quickly moved to stabilize the folding table before more than dirty water could end up everywhere. I’d already made peace with never getting our deposit back, but I wasn’t about to throw money away on avoidable repairs. “Cheryl,“
I fussed, shooting her a look and pointedly grabbing another napkin.
“Sorry, babes. But I’m too amped to be chill. Anyway, like I was saying, you’re always in your studio. I get the whole ‘life is art’ thing, but seriously, M, you need a break.“ She gave me a discerning once-over, and I reflexively frowned and tugged at the smock currently doing a terrible job of protecting my clothes, before giving herself a shake. “Which is why…“ another pause for dramatic effect, “you’re coming with me on a cruise! It’s going to be the absolute best. We’ll leave from PhilaPort, wind our happy asses down to Bermuda, then cruise on back.“
She let out a wild laugh. “See what I did there? Cruise?”
“What’s ‘PhilaPort’?“
I asked, scrunching my nose at the obviously made-up name.
“You know. That new cruise terminal they’re putting in by the Philly Airport.“
I knew nothing of the sort, not that Cheryl paused to check, or breathe for that matter. “It was one of those total kismet moments. The universe was all, ‘Gurl, you need a break,’ and so even though I never do, I totally did this time and lucky us, now we’re going on a five day-four night cruise!”
I stared at her for a beat, hoping that my overloaded brain just needed a minute to process. No such luck. “I’m sorry. Back up. How did you get your hands on a cruise? Who the hell is paying for it?“
Neither of us, that was for damn sure.
“Oh! The radio. That show I listen to all the time–you know the one. The W… W…”
“WbrG?“
I filled in.
“That’s the one! Anywho, they were doing this big promotion for the opening of PhilaPort in April. All I had to do was call in and sing a song from my favorite Broadway musical–don’t worry, I opted for one of the ‘mainstream’ ones–and BAM. Yours truly is now the proud owner of two seats on the Mosaic.“
She slapped two promotional tickets into my hand with a beaming smile.
I skimmed over the paper, which somehow already ?had our information on it. “Um, this says RNJ.”
She leaned over and tsked. “Well, yeah. Mosaic is the name of the ship. RNJ is the cruise line, silly.”
“This says we sail in two weeks!“
I shrieked, almost upending the folding table.
She narrowed her eyes. “I said PhilaPort opened in April.”
“But–”
“Nope. No buts,“
she said, plucking the tickets from my slack grip. “I love you, babes, but you need sunlight… and fun. And if I’m being brutally honest—“
“When are you not?“
I grumbled.
She shot me a look but kept talking. “You need to get laid something fierce. And honestly, so do I. So, goals!”
“I do not—“ I huffed, but at her arched eyebrow, quickly redirected. “This is impractical. I have so much to do and… and…“
Okay, I didn’t actually have any good excuses.
“That’s what I thought.“
She smacked me with the tickets and sauntered out of the room, shouting back, “Pack your shit, babes, we’re going on vacation!”