Page 79 of The Pocket Pair

“Chill, Winchester. We just dropped Mari at the airport,” Chevy explains.

“Ohhhh,” Winnie says. “Got it. So, Mari left, huh?”

Even though I’m practically in need of an IV to replace my fluids, they just keep coming. You could pick me up and plant me in some drought-addled country and my tears would replenish their crops.

“I … hate … being sad,” I sob, squeezing my eyes shut so I don’t have to see anyone staring.

“Take her to my room,” Winnie says to Kyoko. “We’ll fix her up.”

That sounds as ominous as it does comforting, but I don’t fight Kyoko as she guides us to Winnie’s bedroom and then kicks the door closed with a hard slam.

“Get it out, honey. It’s okay.”

This makes me laugh somehow, and by the time Winnie arrives with a mug of coffee, a bottle of her famous jalapeño-infused vodka, and a bag of individually wrapped dark chocolates, Kyoko and I are lying on the rumpled comforter, laughing hysterically. The look of shock on Winnie’s face has us laughing harder.

Tears are still spilling down my cheeks, but they’re the kind that feel good. A release. Healing tears. Not quite but almost happy tears.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to start with caffeine or alcohol, but clearly, the answer is chocolate,” Winnie says, tossing the bag at me.

No sooner has it smacked me in the chest than I’m ripping it open. I dump the foil-wrapped chocolates in the center of the bed and Winnie joins us so we’re sitting knee to knee to knee, tearing open wrappers. The OC, Winnie’s one-eyed cat, appears from under the bed and inserts himself in the middle of us, demanding attention. Tonight, probably in honor of the party, he’s wearing a bow tie James bought for him.

“Oh! This is the kind of chocolate with special messages,” Kyoko says. Then she frowns at the wrapper in her hand. “‘You will meet an untimely end stepping in front of a city bus. Avoid jaywalking.’ Winnie, what is this? I love it.”

Winnie grins, a chocolate smudge at the corner of her lips. “They’re called DARK Dark Chocolates. Instead of happy messages, they have twisted ones. I’ve been saving them for just the right occasion.”

“Genius.” Kyoko says. “Why didn’t I think of that? I’d be rich.”

“Probably,” Winnie agrees. “This bag was twelve dollars.”

Fifteen minutes later, we’ve been warned about the many creative ways we’ll meet our untimely ends (besides hit by a bus, there was an alligator attack and slipping on a spilled mocha) and also been assured that we’ll never EVER find luck in love.

“Accurate,” I murmur, and Winnie smacks my arm.

“None of that,” she says. “This is supposed to be funny. It’s supposed to cheer you up so we can get back out to the party.”

“Where’s Lindy?” I feel bad that I didn’t even realize she wasn’t here. Probably because Kyoko filled in so nicely. I feel a little guilty at that, then a little sad when I think about how, when I leave, Kyoko will fill my empty spot.

That’s almost enough to start a fresh round of tears.

“Running late,” she says. “Something about a crow emergency?”

“This town is weird,” Kyoko says. “I love it.”

I get up, straightening my tear- and chocolate-stained shirt. “Okay, I’m better. I can party.”

Winnie and Kyoko exchange a glance and then shake their heads. “Not yet, you can’t,” Winnie says. “We have to fix your face. And … the rest of you. To the bathroom!”

This last part is said like a battle cry, complete with a fist raised in the air.

“But maybe don’t look in the mirror,” Kyoko says, patting my arm.

I could be offended, but I know from experience that after crying this hard, I look like death warmed over, then frozen again, then burned in a furnace and left outside to rot. So, I don’t look in the mirror. I perch on the edge of Winnie’s counter and let the two of them fuss over me with products I can’t begin to name.

While Kyoko is doing something to my eyes, Winnie says, “You and Chevy looked awful cozy when you walked in.”

A warm flush spreads up my neck, and I bite back a smile. “Things feel a little different.”

“Underneath all the tears, you’ve got a glow,” Kyoko says.

---