Chapter Two

Crimpin’ Ain’t Easy

“Alexa,” I said in the odd, authoritative voice I always used when I spoke to my virtual assistant, “shuffle songs from Phil Collins.”

No one could tell me I didn’t know how to party.

As the opening strains of “In the Air Tonight” pumped through my speakers, I made sure the house was ready for Kelly’s homecoming. I placed a vase of daisies (her favorite) on her bedside table. I made sure the entire bottom floor of my converted three-flat, which had served for the past five years as Kelly’s apartment, looked clean and tidy. I shoved my recently acquired stationary bike into an empty corner and artfully draped a throw blanket over it, and I arranged the TV remotes in a little basket to look like an inviting bouquet.

On the first floor, in the main part of the house, I set out guacamole that I’d purchased at Whole Foods on my way home from work and set two bottles of wine—white and red—on the living room coffee table next to three glasses and a wine opener. My phone buzzed in the pocket of my pajama pants—yes, we were going extra casual tonight—as I surveyed my handiwork.

“Yessi?” I said. I’d invited my other BFF from college, Yessi, over tonight to help welcome Kelly back to the city. I hadn’t spent much quality time with Yessi in the past few months, either. She had a baby about six months ago and was now back at work, juggling her child, her marriage, and her career as a high-powered corporate attorney. But tonight she said she’d be here for Kelly.

“Annie?” Yessi’s voice sounded panicked. “Olivia has a fever.”

“Oh no.” Yessi often called me with baby-related medical questions, and I was always happy to help—when I could. It had been way too long since I did my pedes rotation. “How high?”

“One hundred and one,” she said, “rectally. Since her doctor’s office is closed, Polly and I are taking her to the emergency room.”

“Hi, Annie!” I heard Polly, Yessi’s wife, a veterinarian, say on the other end.

“Hi, Polly!” My brain scanned through all the information I’d retained about infants and fevers. “How is Olivia behaving?”

“She’s crying a lot.” As if on cue, the baby let out a wail in the background on Yessi’s end.

“It’s most likely something simple,” I said reassuringly. “You’re doing the right thing taking her in. The doctors will get the fever down and will be able to tell you exactly what’s going on.”

“Thanks, Annie,” Yessi said. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

“Say hi to Kelly!” Polly shouted.

My heart sank. Yessi and I kept missing each other these days. “Will do!” I said as cheerfully as I could muster. “We’ll get together another time soon. Please keep me updated on Olivia and call if you have any questions.”

I set the phone down with a sigh and turned off “Sussudio.” Worried about Olivia and sad about not getting to see my friend, I was no longer in the mood for Phil. I grabbed one of the three wineglasses on the coffee table and returned it to the dining room hutch.

The doorbell rang.

“If this is a sales call…” I muttered to myself as I made my way over to the door. But when I opened it, I found Kelly standing there, eyes down on her phone.

She looked up, surprised, as if she hadn’t just rung my doorbell. “Annie!” she said finally, shoving her phone in her pocket and shooting me a dimmed-down version of the thousand-watt, toothy white smile I’d known since the very first day of college. Petite Kelly, with the big, curly blond hair and sun-kissed bronze face like a California surfer girl, fell into my arms, sobbing.

I squeezed her tight, resting my head on the top of hers, as her body convulsed against mine. “Oh my gosh, Kelly, what’s wrong? Is it your dad?”

She shook her head and mumbled something against my shoulder that I couldn’t hear.

I pulled away, holding her at arm’s length. “Say it again?”

She opened her mouth to speak just as my phone buzzed again in my pajama pants pocket. I held up a finger to stop. “Pause,” I said, “one second. Yessi’s taking Olivia to the emergency room.” I checked the caller ID on my phone. “Shoot.” I wrinkled up my nose. “It’s a patient. I have to take this.”

I answered the call—a former Chicago Bulls player who now did color commentary for one of the radio stations in town. He hurt his knee playing a pickup game with his kids in the driveway. I told him to ice it tonight and call an orthopedic specialist I knew in the morning if it wasn’t feeling better.

“Ugh,” I said, shoving my phone back in my pants and heading back into the living room. “I know it’s silly, but I always feel guilty when I have to send patients to a specialist. It’s like, what are they paying me for? Maybe it’s time I recognize I’m not superhuman.”

I paused in the doorway and watched Kelly down almost a full glass of red wine before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Kel?”

She turned toward me, eyes pink and bloodshot. Finally able to get a good look at her, I realized that she was a more muted and monochrome version of her usual self tonight. Kelly normally wore dresses and cute tops in bright, bold colors—reds, pinks, blues, yellows, sometimes all at once. She’d dress up every outfit with chunky jewelry and fun shoes. Tonight she wore a pair of boring black jeans under a faded pink sweatshirt. (A sweatshirt!) She hadn’t put on a stitch of makeup, and her only hint of bling was a modest gold pendant around her neck.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

She sat up straight, shoulders back. “It’s nothing,” she said. “I guess I miss my mom and dad. I’d spent so much time with them over the past few months—” She let out a huge sob, and I dashed to sit next to her on the couch. I took her hand in mine.

“I get it,” I said. “I was emotional all day at work today, knowing you were coming home. I’ve been…lonely.” I grinned at her. “But now we’re reunited, and things can finally get back to normal. For both of us.”

She burst into tears, dropping her head into her hands.

Crap. This was completely new and unexpected. Kelly loved her mom and dad, but the three of them had their issues, too. When she left home for college, she left for good. I had a hard time believing they were the real source of this despair.

“You want to put on a movie or something?” I asked.

She shook her head, her blond curls flopping around her shoulders.

“Play a board game?”

She scrunched up her nose.

I knew what I had to do. I wasn’t trying to make my introverted self feel better. I had to think like Kelly—suggest something she might want to do.

“Um…there’s a new bar nearby…”

Her eyes lit up.

“Maybe we can put on makeup, get dressed up, and…do that?”

Kelly leaped off the couch and right into my chest, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Yes, Annie. Thank you! I think a night out is just what I need.”

I guess I was changing out of my comfy pants.