Page 103 of The Wild Card
“So,it doesn’t matter that I haven’t read the book?” I ask, hurrying to catch up to Winnie and Lindy who are—despite being not very tall and fairly pregnant, respectively—walking quite quickly down the sidewalk toward Sheet Cake’s library.
They showed up at the loft ten minutes ago and ordered me to get ready. Though, apparently, that didn’t mean I needed to change out of the workout clothes I’m still wearing and only meant that I needed to pick a drink to bring to my first ever Ladies Literary and Libations Society meeting. With Collin in Austin playing poker with his brothers, I was more than happy to see them.
Without Collin, the loft is way too silent, my thoughts way too loud. In the stillness, I’m reminded of the fact that I still really don’t know what I’m doing with my life. Collin has been a lovely distraction, an anchor giving me some purpose. But on my own … I’m still unmoored and lost and in my feels about the state of my life.
Going out with Lindy and Winnie is the perfect distraction. Even if I don’t really understand where we’re going.
“It’s not a book club,” Lindy says.
“More of … a social drinking club slash unofficial town meeting,” Winnie adds, linking her arm through mine. I think probably to help me keep up. We’re late, apparently. “TheLiterarypart of the name is because we meet in the library. It’s literary by osmosis. The key part is theLibation.”
The only option in the loft was bottled water, so I’ve got that clutched in one hand. Which means I feel both underdressed in my workout clothesandunprepared as far as libations go. Winnie said she’d share some of whatever she’s got, though she didn’t elaborate on what exactly she has in the little black cooler in her other hand. I’m not sure what Lindy has in her blue metal bottle, only that, given her pregnancy, it’s non-alcoholic.
I start to feel nervous as we climb the steps to the library. “Anything else I need to know? Rules or whatever?”
“Just stick with us,” Lindy says, patting my arm. “You’ll be fine.”
“Oh, one last thing,” Winnie says, then pulls out her phone and takes a picture of me. “I promised Collin I’d send a pic to prove you’re alive. He was worried.”
“He was?” Collin hasn’t called or texted in hours. I was trying not to feel bothered by it since I know he’s going to be with his brothers. Needy girlfriend isn’t a good look. But he just normally texts more than he has today, and he obviously talked to Winnie at some point.
I check my phone again. Still nothing. Which is abnormal—not even my parents have been hounding me. But we’re walking into the library, so I can worry about my lack of communication to the outside world later.
Inside, the library is lit only by electric or battery-operated candles, and it’s full of women seated on the floor, in foldingchairs, on the staircase, and even a few on top of the circulation desk. I’m surprised to see Big Mo, a gentle giant of a man who came to the coffee shop a few times this week. He’s the first one to notice me and offers me a shy smile and a wave as we walk in. I recognize some but not all of the faces, also from the coffee shop. Kalli isn’t here, and I realize the three of us are the youngest women here.
“This is our spot,” Winnie says, stopping by a collection of black and white photographs that look to be of Sheet Cake in years past.
I’d love to look at the pictures but she and Lindy are already sitting down, Lindy grumbling about forgetting a chair. Someone tosses her a cushion, and she settles in on it, leaning her back against the wall.
I sit cross-legged between her and Winnie, just as a woman with a pouf of white hair bangs a gavel on the circulation desk. “Let us call to order this meeting of the Ladies Literary and Libations Society,” the woman calls.
“Order is served,” everyone in the room but me calls back, and I wish Winnie and Lindy had given me a script. Hopefully there’s not a lot of this chanting or recitation.
Winnie presses a shot glass into my hand just as the ladies—and Big Mo—lift their libations, then drink. I sniff the shot glass first, wanting to make sure it’s not cinnamon whisky. I can’t tell what the clear liquid is other than potent. But when Winnie hands me a lime wedge, I guess it’s probably tequila and knock it back.
The alcohol burns all the way down, lighting up a path from the back of my tongue to my belly. Sucking on the lime wedge does nothing at all to help. My eyes sting and I cough. Lindy slaps me heartily on the back. Winnie, still sucking on her lime wedge, offers me salt from a glass shaker, which I refuse, then collects my empty glass, nudging my water bottle toward me.While I’m drinking water, she sprinkles salt directly onto her tongue and shrugs when she sees me watching.
“You’re supposed to do the salt first,” Winnie says. “But I like it after the lime.”
I wonder how one goes about becoming so effortlessly cool.
The not-book-club meeting runs more like a town hall, with the gavel-wielding woman—Lynn Louise, according to Winnie—running things, turning over the floor to different women. There was a rundown of how the festival went, which was fascinating, and then a whole lot of time spent complaining about the Waters family, specifically the interim mayor, someone called Billy.
I’m not sure what the mayor of Sheet Cake even does when this meeting encompasses so much town business. It feels a little like I’m seeing the wizard behind the curtain of Sheet Cake. Winnie and Lindy spend the evening whispering info to me about everyone.
Kitty Bishop has three daughters, one of whom is watching Jo tonight. She sits next to a beautiful Black woman who looks vaguely familiar.
“That’s Ashlee,” Lindy tells me in a whisper.
From my other side, Winnie adds, “We all want to be her when we grow up.” It’s hard to tell Ashlee’s age—maybe somewhere in her thirties?—but she carries herself with the kind of grace and confidence that makes me understand immediately what Winnie means.
“Supermodel turned town lawyer. She’s the direct competition to the Waters Firm.”
“Waters as in the mayor everyone seems to hate?” I ask.
Winnie nods. “The only one of them we like is Wolf. He’s a Waters by blood but not by spirit. They don’t claim him, and he certainly doesn’t claim them.”
Interesting.
