Page 43 of About Last Night

“I’m going to have to talk to her eventually,” Audrey says, “and I will. I’ve been trying to map out a conversation that allows her to break up with me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Willa says.

“You left,” I say. “You’re broken up. Period. She should respect that.”

“But your ex is a narcissist and needs to save face,” Greta sums up.

“Precisely,” Audrey says.

“That’s fucked up,” I say.

“Extremely,” Willa agrees.

“Thank you all for your concern, but this is my problem and I’ll deal with it my way, and in my own time,” Audrey says.

Greta nods once and changes the subject. “So, what are you two doing for Christmas? Going home to Texas?”

“No,” Audrey says. “I try to avoid going home as much as possible.” Willa gives Audrey a sharp look. “We both do. My mother suddenly found Jesus after she discovered I liked girls. She kicked me out of the house.”

“She kicked us out of the house,” Willa said.

“No, she kicked me out. You stood by me. She’d take you back in a heartbeat, even now. You were always her favorite.”

“Don’t remind me. We’re a package deal. Always have been, always will be.”

Audrey and Willa look at each other with such affection my heart squeezes in my chest. I glance at Greta, whose expression is as inscrutable as always, though she’s watching them closely. She catches me watching her and looks caught out for a split second, before smiling warmly at me.

“Tell me, what’s Christmas at the Giordani household like?” Willa asks.

“You know, your typical Christmas with a bit of hippy stuff thrown in,” I say.

“Such as?” Audrey asks.

“All our ornaments are handmade,” I say. “We each make an ornament on Christmas Eve that represents our past year.”

“Toni’s cheated every year by attaching a ribbon to a pinecone and calling it a day,” Greta says.

“The great outdoors,” I say, holding out my mug to Greta for another shot.

Greta shakes her head as she pours. “She did a river rock once.”

“Yeah, it was a bitch hammering a hole in that for the ribbon,” I say. “Never again.”

“You know you could have just glued a ribbon to it and been done,” Greta says.

I stop with my mug halfway to my mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I was doing it?”

“Mom wouldn’t let me. She said, It’s the most effort Toni’s put into this in years. Leave her to it.”

“Do you hear that, ladies? How my family treats me?”

“Sounds wonderful to us,” Willa says.

“What are your Christmas traditions?” Greta asks.

“We put up our tree and decorations the day after Thanksgiving, as y’all saw, and play Christmas songs for six weeks, at least,” Audrey says.

“We chop our tree down a couple of days before Christmas Eve,” I say.

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