Page 24 of Knot what I want for Christmas
“Annie,” I say, “I got drunk, and your big brother had to take me home because I vomited in the snow outside the bar.”
“You did?” she says.
“Yep, right by his boots. In fact, I think there were one or two chunks that landed on his toes.”
“Ew,” Annie says, “but also – great aim. He was such an asshole last night.”
“Not really,” I say. “He looked after me.”
“Too right. It’s his duty as my brother,” Annie says. “Anyway, let’s not talk about my big brother when we’re in bed together.” I giggle. “How do you feel now?”
I groan. “I feel like my skull’s about to split open inside my head.”
“Gross,” Annie says. “Drink some water and let’s go back to sleep.”
I fumble around, finding Annie has brought a glass to bed with her. I chug it down, snuggle back up in bed with my best friend, and soon I’m fast asleep.
We’re woken several hours later by a knock on the door.
“You girls alive in there?” Mr. J’s voice says through the woodwork.
“Just about,” Annie replies.
“Would a vegetarian breakfast burrito help you at all?”
“Yes, please,” Annie calls out.
“Hash browns?” he asks.
“Obviously,” Annie says. “Eggs?”
“What do you take me for? An Amateur?”
“Green chile?” she asks.
“Yep, green chile too – but it’s gonna get cold, so get a wriggle on, girls!”
I take a shower, brush my teeth about a billion times, and then find Annie. We make our way back down to the kitchen, Annie reliving some of the more memorable moments from her evening. There’s a feast waiting for us on the kitchen table, along with steaming hot coffee and an enthusiastic greeting from both Dolly and Kenny.
I drop onto the nearest chair with a groan, thanking Mr. J with all of my heart. Annie does the same, and we’re silent for the next ten minutes as we stuff ourselves with food, down as much coffee as we can and I sneak bits of egg to Dolly under the table. Then we both lean back on our chairs, our tummies most definitely full.
“So,” she asks me, “think you can face the day now? How’s the head?”
“Much, much better,” I say, sipping on my fourth cup of black coffee.
“You know what would help even more – some good old country air?”
I glance toward the window. It’s not snowing today, but there’s still a thick blanket of it lying on the ground.
“Are we going out riding?” As much as that’s my favorite (if not frequented enough) pastime, I’m not sure I can stomach the idea with a flaming great handover.
“I thought something a little more gentle might be called for,” Annie says, probably noting how green my complexion appears this morning.
“Yes, please.”
“A leisurely stroll?”
I grimace. I only have my sneakers. And as nice as it was for Mrs. J to lend me her lucky boots, there’s no way I’m traipsing through the snow in those. I won’t be responsible for ruining them.
