Chapter Eight #2
“Hey.” Abby poked her head out of one of the doors on the other side of the room. She was dressed, at least, which made Emma feel less weird about showing up mostly ready to go herself.
Hattie had invited her over before the line dancing class to “get ready.” The idea made her think of high school prom preparations, or those couple of ill-fated times she’d gotten peer-pressured into going to frat parties with the girls from her dorm, her freshman year of college—before she’d realized that loud, drunken frat parties were not her speed.
The community center line dancing class couldn’t possibly be as formal as prom, or as assaulting to the senses as a frat party—right?
She pushed her jangling nerves aside and joined the other two women in a little kitchen off the living room.
“What can I get you to drink?” Hattie asked. She held up the bottle Emma had brought. “I can open this, if you want?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’ll just have whatever you’re having.”
Hattie nodded, setting the zinfandel down on the counter and grabbing a few little bottles out of the fridge. “Another Porn Star, coming up.”
It was a good thing Emma didn’t have a drink yet, or she would have done a spit take.
“Don’t worry,” Abby assured her, “it’s a cocktail, and it’s actually delicious, even though it has a stupid name.”
Oh, okay. Thanks to her half-Asian heritage, Emma was prone to turning red and getting miserable headaches if she overimbibed, so she usually stuck to wine, but she vaguely recalled seeing outrageously named cocktails like that on the menu when she went out with Ji-An.
“Don’t go to any trouble,” Emma insisted.
Hattie waved her off. “No trouble at all.”
A couple of minutes later, she handed Emma a martini glass. The contents were light orange and smelled of fruit and vanilla.
“Ooh, wait.” Hattie scurried past Emma to the room Abby had emerged from and returned with two more martini glasses. She handed one to Abby and held the other up. “To new friends, new drinks, and new opportunities to make absolute fools of ourselves.”
Emma’s brows rose. Well, at least she could toast to the first two.
“It’s easiest to just go along with her,” Abby said in a stage whisper.
Hattie nodded. “Damn right it is.”
They clinked glasses, and Emma took a careful, experimental sip. It was… not terrible, actually. Way too sweet for her liking, but it could be worse. She smiled regardless. “Yum. Thanks.”
“No problem.” Hattie tipped her head back toward the other room and motioned with her free hand at her state of dress. “I’m gonna just keep on keeping on.”
“Please do.” Abby followed her, and so Emma did, too.
Hattie’s bedroom stood in stark contrast to the rest of the house, with bright blue walls covered in mismatched paintings and posters.
Fairy lights had been strung from the dresser to the wide-open closet doors, and a fluffy white chair stood in the corner.
A gorgeous blue-and-purple quilt covered the bed, which was piled high with an inordinate number of pillows, as well as a narwhal plushie.
Hattie dropped her robe unselfconsciously. She had on a bright pink bra and matching underwear, which was about as much as Emma had time to notice before averting her gaze.
“I got ready before I came, too,” Abby said, sitting on the bed like this was something they did all the time.
Emma fiddled with the zipper on her purse. “I still have a little bit of stuff to do.”
“Bathroom’s down the hall if you’d like privacy.” Hattie pulled on a fitted black tee with a scoop neck. “Or feel free to drop trou in here.”
That wouldn’t be necessary. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
There was a little lighted mirror on the dresser. As Hattie finished getting on a pair of tights and a cutoff denim skirt, Emma swiped on lipstick and then, just to stall, another coat of mascara.
Abby, meanwhile, had pulled out her knitting and was stitching away. Hattie completed her look with a flannel shirt that she wore with the hem knotted at her waist and a pair of cowboy boots.
“What do you think?” Hattie asked, regarding herself in the bigger mirror hung on the back of the door. “Too much?”
Abby considered thoughtfully for a moment. “Just the right amount of too much.”
Emma nodded. “You look great.”
“Awesome.”
Emma perched on the other side of the bed.
She really hadn’t known what to wear, so she’d gone with a nice pair of dark-rinse jeans and a white blouse that had about as much country vibe as she could find in her wardrobe.
Fun earrings and low-heeled boots kept it casual, she hoped.
Abby had gone even simpler with a graphic tee with an anime character on it and a cardigan.
As if she could read her mind, Abby said, “You look nice, too.”
“Thanks. I like your hair.”
Abby had put it up in a braided crown. “Thanks, it’s easier than it looks.” She smiled and glanced over at Hattie, who’d pulled a disturbing number of hairstyling tools down from her closet. “Unlike what she’s got going on over there, which is way, way harder than it looks.”
Hattie groaned as she plugged in some sort of heated appliance. “Ugh, not everyone has hair that does what it wants them to.”