Page 16 of Wassailing We Will Go
Anyway the muesli bath is just plan a, I also have several prescription medications
A pause, and then:
My deal breakers are apparently that I have sensitive skin and a callous disregard for where I source my underwear
Also I am told that I snore after drinking
A little … appears and disappears several times and then goes away completely.
KATE: I think there are probably solutions to both of those things
Anyway, let me know how your healing is progressing
Charlie told me that you guys transferred all the cider today and that everything is good to rest for a few weeks now, so all good
You and the cider can both rest
HARRISON: I am so bonded with the cider rn
I’ll keep you updated
Night x
Before I can even begin to wonder at his last text, the little … starts appearing and disappearing again in a slightly panicked way.
HARRISON: I am so sorry thats my usual sign off
Not usually to my work bosses tho
Though once I called one dad by accident
Again, very sorry
I catch myself smiling stupidly at my phone, and I toss it back down on the coffee table like it’s the problem. My appetite for yacht-related drama has suddenly been quashed, so I turn off the TV and heave Steven from his place on the back of the couch to force snuggles on him. He howls in protest at being moved but accepts my head pats. I end up falling asleep on the couch, the cat a weighted, purring blanket on my chest.
CHAPTER EIGHT
WEDNESDAY AND THURSDAY ARE BOTH slow days, the only highlights of which are that Chef and Daniel are slow releasing some of their holiday features, and so far, they are going over extremely well. This is the last weekend before Wassail starts, but we’re getting festive early.
You want more lights? asks Barb. She towers over me by a few inches, so when she crosses her arms, it’s a little intimidating. Still, I press on.
Just around the entrance. See over there? I say, pointing to a few shrubs that have yet to be bedazzled.
Barb shrugs. I’ll have Hugo get some guys on it, but I’ll have to pull them away from pruning for a few hours, she says, rubbing her forehead. Something about her eyes makes her look tired, and she doesn’t seem her usual self. Barb has never been a perky sort of person, but she’s usually a warm one.
She turns to walk away, but I call after her. Hey, are you and Hank playing at the open mic tonight?
Nah, not tonight. We’re not feeling up to it, she says. Hank has a cold, and I think I’m fighting something, too. I’ve just been tired lately.
Our loss, I say. Do you guys have anyone you can send our way? I’m worried that it’s going to be sparse tonight. Chris and Mike are sick as well. It’s five thirty, and the open mic goes from seven to our close at nine. Usually, we have a few reliable locals who come round for a pint and to jam for a little while, as the performers all get a free drink.
I’ll post online to some groups, she says. See who turns up. Cold’s going around bad, though. Hey, while I have you here—have you heard much from Jenn and Lauren?
I shake my head. Sometimes, but they have a weirdly busy schedule over there for retired ladies. Aunt Jenn’s taking a bunch of online classes, and Aunt Lauren’s gotten very into ceramics. Why?
Barb shrugs. Been a while since I heard from them; I thought I’d check in. It’s a weird thing, you know. Got used to seeing them every day around here, and now it’s like they disappeared off the face of the Earth.
I nod. I know what you mean. And I really do. Before, I spoke to my aunts most days, even when I lived in Toronto, but now with the time change, it’s hard to update them even on the most basic things. But they do sound like they’re doing well. I’m happy for them.
