Roz
ROZALYN Ana Maria Cruz Abrams’ phone buzzed in her front jeans pocket. She didn’t bother to check it because she already knew who it was.
Oscar, her on again, off again friend with benefits, had been bugging her all night about coming over. Hell, all week he had wanted to hook up, but she was ghosting him.
Sure, he was a hot twenty-three-year-old firefighter with a rockin’ body who was a firecracker in bed, but with the ten-year age difference she hadn’t quite expected the level of immaturity that came along with it. Had she been that way when she’d been in her early twenties? She sure hoped not. It was exhausting.
Plus, she was at her uncle’s, Alejandro’s, retirement party from The Willow City Police Force where he was captain and she worked as a detective.
She was having a good time sipping on her IPA beer, chatting with family and friends, soaking up the cool May night, and listening to the live band play.
The party was being held in her uncle’s backyard. They had strung festive lights from tree to tree, creating a canopy of stars overhead. Brightly colored paper lanterns hung in clusters from trees, and a handful of card tables were set up with people drinking, eating, and watching others dance on the portable dance floor in front of the small wooden stage.
Roz wiggled her fingers in a small wave at her mom and grandma as her grandma’s wheelchair was pushed right up to a card table. Her mom winked back at her. They had a card game going, and several cousins were gathered around, looking at the cards in their hands. The band played an old ‘80s song and there was decent amount of people shaking it on the dance floor.
“Roz! Need a beer?” Mario, her cousin and fellow detective, stepped up beside her, holding out a bottle of her favorite brew. She tipped back the one already in her hand and then swallowed the last sip.
“Perfect timing, Rio.” She grabbed the offered beer before she twisted off the cap. “How’s the Cap doing?” she asked, referring to her uncle, boss, and Mario’s dad.
“He’s doing good. I think retirement might agree with him.” Mario chuckled, brown eyes shining, as they directed their gazes to Alejandro. He spun his wife, Mickie, across the dance floor. They smiled from ear to ear—cheeks flushed. “I don’t think my mom is complaining either,” Mario added, taking a swig from his beer.
Alyssa, Mario’s wife, came up beside them and slid her arm around her husband’s trim waist. “Would you like to dance?” she asked coyly, looking out from under her long lashes.
They were gone and spinning on the dance floor in a blink of an eye. Roz smiled and tipped back her beer. She loved seeing her family all together and having a good time. The kids ran around, darting between people’s legs in a never-ending stream of laughter; these were the nights to live for.
She spotted her best friend, Hannah, across the lawn, mixing a drink at the make-shift bar, which was really just a patio table with an array of liquors and sodas to choose from.
“Whatcha making?” Roz stepped up beside her, and Hannah turned her green eyes toward her—they were already glassy.
“I don’t know,” she giggled, “I’m just mixing stuff together.” She grabbed a liquor bottle, unscrewed the top, and poured some in. “What are you doing?” she asked Roz, capping the one before grabbing another.
“Enjoying the band. These guys are good.” Roz tipped her beer toward the little wooden stage and the rock band. They played an old Poison song that got her tapping her toe on the lawn.
“Yeah, they are! They sound even better than back in high school.” Hannah topped off her concoction of a mixed drink with a splash of cola. She raised her glass, took a sip, and shivered. “Oh, this may be a little strong.” She shrugged and took another swallow.
“What do you mean in high school? Do we know them?” Roz questioned. Hannah looked at her as if she were out of her mind.
“Uh, yeah! Skeeter and the Eater!” Hannah proclaimed like an excited groupie. “I think they’re called something else now because Chase and Patrick are the only original members, but still, they rock!” She threw her fist up into the air and shook her hips a little.
“Chase, like prom Chase?” Roz asked, eyebrows raised. Chase had been her prom date senior year. They had had a great time dancing and laughing and sneaking sips out of the flask she had hidden in her garter belt, but it had never gone further than a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. She thought they might be Facebook friends, but now wasn’t entirely sure when she thought about it.
Hannah nodded while taking another sip from her red Solo cup. “Yup, you remember he played bass? Well, he still does.” She giggled while bopping her head to the music, her short curly auburn hair bouncing around her face. Roz looked toward the stage, and now that she really looked, she could see it was indeed Chase. He looked good, fit with short brown hair and gentle eyes that had small wrinkles around them that actually made him look more endearing. “He’s married with two kids.” Hannah giggled. Roz rolled her eyes. Well, there goes that idea.
“I need something new in my life.” Roz turned to the patio table full of booze and snatched up a bottle of dark liquor. “I also need a shot.”
“New as in…drink, hairstyle, or sex?” Hannah wiggled her eyebrows a little, giggling.
“First, there is nothing wrong with my hair.” Roz brushed back a lock of her long curly ebony hair behind her shoulder and winked. Hannah laughed. “And second, the sex isn’t so much the issue.” She smirked. “It’s that he’s just so…clingy. We’re not even exclusive. I’ve been very clear about that. And Oscar’s so…so…young.” Roz shrugged and poured out two fingers worth of alcohol into a cup.
“And the problem is?” Hannah smirked. “Don’t forget to pour me one!” She pointed at Roz, who laughed.
“Already on it.” She poured another shot.
“So, are you going to stop sleeping with him?” Hannah bumped her shoulder against Roz’s.
“I’m not feeling the same way he is and I’m starting to feel bad about it. Like I said, I’ve been clear about boundaries, but it’s pretty obvious he’s caught feelings.” The butterflies were gone for Roz. Shouldn’t there always be butterflies?
“We all know Rozalyn Abrams doesn’t catch feelings.” Hannah nudged her again, teasingly. “Let’s find you somebody tonight!” Hannah exclaimed, bouncing up and down a little on the balls of her feet. Roz shook her head and laughed at her friend’s obvious alcohol buzz that was getting her all riled up.
“Where? Here? It’s all my family and oldest friends.” Roz smiled.
“Maybe not here.” Hannah giggled and looked around, acknowledging the truth in that statement. “But somewhere! Soon! Let’s go out. I’ll find you new dick and maybe you can find me a girl to take home.” Hannah winked, a twinkle in her eye.
Roz laughed, nodding. “Sounds good.” Hannah had a hard time finding women to go out with in Willow City. The town wasn’t that big and most of the residents had been there since birth. They often headed to Traverse City to hit up the bars. There was a different energy in a larger city and it was nice to occasionally let loose.
“Let’s do these shots!” Hannah exclaimed, raising her drink. Roz doubted that Hannah needed more alcohol but raised her glass regardless. “To new experiences and new dicks!” Hannah proclaimed. Roz laughed before tipping her cup back.