Page 32 of Worst in Show

“Hey!” Micki hollers, peering down from upstairs. “Think Harv will mind if I have this ice cream in the freezer? I’m starving.”

“I’m sure it’s fine as long as you—”

A loud yelp cuts me off and makes Micki spin around.

“Did you leave the freezer open?” I ask, bolting up the stairs. “You never leave it open. Cholula gets her—”

“Shit.” Micki covers her mouth in her hands. “Her tongue is stuck.”

“Damn it, Cho.” I crouch next to the little beast and pet her back. She peers up at me even as she tries to tug her tongue free of the built-up ice at the bottom of the freezer. “Get me a glass of water,” I tell Micki. “Room temperature.”

With the water applied, Cholula is soon free and not much worse for wear. She barks twice and starts zooming, up onto the bed, down around the table, back and forth. She finally skids to a stop by the bathroom door—or rather, the door stops her short—and promptly lies down and falls asleep.

“Man, dogs are so weird,” Micki says. “Sorry about the tongue thing. Are you sure she’s okay?”

“She’s fine. You didn’t know.” I grab the paper towels and clean up the water that’s leaked onto the floor. “She has a thing for cold stuff. In the winter, she’s impossible to take for walks because she tries to eat all the snow. And I mean all of it.” I stand and wipe my hands on my bell-bottom jeans. “Crisis averted.”

“You’ve really got your hands full, don’t you?” Micki looks at me with sympathy.

I can’t do anything else but agree that I do.

After she leaves, I try to get settled in the alcove bed. The mattress has seen cushier days, so it’s hard to get comfortable. An hour in, I give up and open my computer instead. I have a message from Al that he sent after I logged off last night. Last night… It feels like weeks ago.

AlCaponesGhost25: Do you have good friends? The kind you can count on no matter what?

I think about the day I’ve just had and Micki being there.

SingerQueen: I do. My best friend. Not sure what I’d do without her.

AlCaponesGhost25: You’re lucky.

SingerQueen: You don’t have anyone like that?

AlCaponesGhost25: Not really. I thought I did—people I worked with at my old job—but I left and they didn’t last.

SingerQueen: You’ll make new ones at your new job.

AlCaponesGhost25: Maybe.

SingerQueen: Just make sure their riddle standards are up to par. *winky face emoji*

AlCaponesGhost25: What if my standards are too high?

He’s serious, I realize. He’s grappling with something.

SingerQueen: It’s not rocket science. If your standards are too high, you lower them. Perfection is overrated anyway.

AlCaponesGhost25: Is it though?

SingerQueen: 100%. If I needed all my seams to be straight, I’d never finish a single garment. Flaws can be charming. And they’re human.

AlCaponesGhost25: I guess you’re right. Did you always know you wanted to be a designer?

SingerQueen: Not always. I went to college for something else, but it wasn’t right.

AlCaponesGhost25: I feel that. Your first choice not being the right one, I mean.

SingerQueen: Yeah.

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