Page 21 of Hot Mess

Ten minutes later we were walking out the front door.

“I’m taking Kayla for a ride, Mrs. G. Get her some fresh air.”

Mom crossed out of the kitchen where I think she had been sitting and reading a magazine. “Are you sure you want to go out?”

I nodded.

“Okay. If you’re sure. Kayla, you got a big envelope in the mail.” Mom held up a catalog-size manilla envelope.

I really didn’t have the energy to even wonder what it was. “I’ll look at it when I get home.”

“It will be right here when you get home.” Mom set it on the sideboard we kept in our entry.

“I want you to drive safely, Amber. Do you need some gas money?”

“No ma’am. I’m good.”

Mom kept her purse by the door, she had already turned and pulled a few bills from her wallet. She held the money out to Amber. “Stop and get a pop. It will help settle Kayla’s tummy. And there’s enough for you to get one too.”

“Thank you,” Amber said as she accepted the money.

As we walked out the front door, she slipped me the money. It would be enough to cover lunch at the restaurant.

Mariachi music played over the radio. Festively painted parrots hung from the ceiling. Giant Suns adorned the walls, made from twisted metal. The chairs had carved flowers and were painted in bold colors.

We followed the waiter to a table. A giant image under a thick layer of resin of an Aztec hunk, in a full feathered headdress holding a swooning maiden, took over the entire table.

The waiter slid a basket of corn chips and a bowl of salsa onto the table.

“We didn’t order…” Amber started.

I kicked her under the table. We both ordered Cokes and began studying the menu. “It’s a thing they do at Mexican restaurants. At least they did in LA. It must be a thing. I can’t believe you’ve never been here.”

“Excuse me, you’ve never been here,” she reminded me.

“Yeah, but I live with my mom. You don’t”

She scoffed. “My parents think fine dining is frozen dinners. At least your mom cooks.”

We both sighed, neither of us had the best home lives.

“I want a burrito,” I told the waiter when he returned to take our orders.

Amber ordered an enchilada. “They used to have those at Taco Bell, so I have an idea what I'm getting into. Now, I’ve been good and not pestering you too much, but you have got to tell me about that party you said you went to.”

I nodded. “Gabe apparently has some connections, and he got us into a real Hollywood Halloween party. I met Marci Wolf.”

“What!” Amber yelled, and then looked around the restaurant in embarrassment.

She leaned over the table. “You met Marci Wolf?”

I nodded. “She was horrible. It was miserable, everyone sneered at me. But I did meet this really nice man. He’s an actor, you’ve probably heard of him, Nick Sadler.”

Amber choked on her drink, and then knocked it over.

I scrambled with napkins in a feeble attempt at cleaning up the spill. A waiter came to our assistance immediately. Neither of us said anything as we handled the minor emergency. When the waiter left, Amber whispered, “Nick Sadler, the Nick Sadler?”

I nodded. “I guess he was in something called—”

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