Page 150 of Could Have Been Us
She nods. “And wine.”
We get up and grab plates, forks, and then she’s scouring for something. “Does he have a wine opener?”
I think I saw one. “Maybe?” We both open drawers, rummaging around. Jack has zero order to this place. Nothing goes where it should, and I find myself starting to rearrange his drawers while I’m looking for the wine opener. “Why the hell is there a deck of cards in with the silverware?”
She laughs. “No idea, but you can’t live like this.”
“No, I definitely can’t,” I agree and bite my lip. “It would be a really nice thing to make his house a little more organized, right?”
“Most definitely. It’s like your love language.”
“What? Being invasive and rearranging his home?”
“I think of this more as an act of service. You know, you’re donating your expertise on how to live like an adult to your overgrown man-child of a boyfriend.”
“He’s been doing just fine without me.”
She looks around. “Has he?”
I laugh. “Well, he’s been surviving.”
“And now you’re here to set him free!”
“Thank God for that,” I say with a smile and empty another drawer.
“Oh, move this over there. That way the plates, cups, and silverware make a triangle.”
I nod. “Good idea.”
“He’s going to kill you, you know this?”
I shrug. “It’s worth it.”
We pour wine, laugh, and talk of nothing but nonsense. The music is blaring in the background while we sing along to the music legend, DMX, and for a few hours, Winnie lets me just feel normal again.
* * *
I’m lying on the couch after a long day of hanging out with Winnie, cleaning, and making Jack’s place look pretty fantastic if I say so myself. Winnie and I ate the entire cake, and I—and I do mean me—polished off two bottles of wine. She had one glass, I had the rest of the bottle she brought plus one of the bottles I found in Jack’s cupboard. He never drinks wine, so it could even be from the previous owners, but it was still good, so I don’t care.
My head is swimming, and it feels fucking glorious. I like this floaty-no-pain-and-everything-is-fine place. It’s nice here.
The fire is going because the weather is starting to cool after the sun goes down and I need more warmth. Jack’s cabin is only heated by this glorious fireplace, so I keep the blaze going.
My phone is somewhere. Winnie took it away from me around the fourth glass of wine because I kept checking it.
I wonder where it is.
Maybe in a drawer?
Whatever. No one is calling anyway. Jack is off in the woods, Kinsley is never calling, and everyone else can fuck off.
You know what has never failed me? Wine.
Wine is a good friend. It takes all my pain away.
My head lulls to the side, and I look for the third bottle I opened but didn’t finish. After bottle number one, bottle number two tasted just fine.
Well, the few sips I had before I forgot where I put it.
