We had dinner in Little Italy, in a small restaurant on Preston Street. Wine flowed freely as we celebrated Hannah's engagement to her lump. Mom took advantage of not having to drive and had about a bottle's worth of the house wine on her own. My aunt and uncle tried to pace her, but fell short. Literally, in my aunt's case. She fell off her chair during dessert. The only thing she hurt, though, was her pride. I kept to a more moderate four glasses. Nick had less than that, and Hannah and Dad only drank coffee except for the toast.
Hannah gave me a ride back home. Nick helped me up to my apartment, even though I could manage it myself. Up doesn't always have to be in a straight line. Trish was already home when I got in. I heard her and Simon in her bedroom. Bah.
Sunday morning, I woke up with yesterday's drummer adding a snare drum to his kit. My mouth had fur inside it that desperately needed either to be shaved or combed. I open one eye and look on the floor near my bed for half-naked women. Mind, I'd prefer a half-naked guy there instead, but since the last man I saw last night was Nick, I settle for seeing my pants and shirt lying on the rug instead. I roll out of bed. I'm pleased to see that I did manage to change into my night clothes, though my shirt is backwards.
I stumble into the living room, avoiding the bright light coming in through the window. Trish is already up and has a coffee with her as she reads the newspaper. "When did you get in?" she asks.
"After you. Is Simon still here?"
Trish shakes her head; her red curls bounce perkily. "He had stuff he needed done. You look rough. What happened?"
"Red wine is a subtle and insidious beverage." I keep shuffling towards the kitchen. "Any coffee left?"
"There should be a few mugs' worth."
The coffee maker is indeed half full. I grab a mug and fill it with coffee. Forgoing the cream and sugar, I drink it straight, hoping that it'll take care of the fuzz in my mouth. The warmth wakes me up a little more, enough that I can put some bread in the toaster. The clock on the oven says it's quarter to ten. Not bad; I can work a bit on homework before lunch and get a bit further with my database assignment afterwards.
The phone rings. Trish grabs it before it can trill a second time. My toast pops shortly after that. As I'm buttering it, Trish calls me to the phone. I bring my breakfast with me out to the living room. "Who is it?" I whisper to her.
"Some guy, he didn't say."
I take the phone from Trish. "Hello?"
"Jacqueline Hart?" a deep voice asks.
"Speaking."
"Stop playing in matters you can't comprehend." There's a click followed by the dial tone. I slam the phone down.
"Who was it?" Trish asks.
"Some kid playing games."
"The kid must be on steroids."
"He's on something." I take my coffee and toast into my bedroom. For a moment, I consider getting dressed, then pass on it, at least for now. It's Sunday morning, I have nowhere to be, and Trish has seen me in rattier things than my night clothes. After some homework, maybe.
The homework is challenging but doable. The examples in class help me get through the questions assigned. I check the time; it's coming up to one. Now is a good time to get dressed into a comfortable shirt and my favourite jeans. I emerge from my room with my dirty dishes. Trish is sprawled out on the couch, reading her textbook.
Returning from the kitchen without the dishes, I sit in the easy chair. "Hannah's getting married," I announce.
"Good for her!"
"She asked me to be a bridesmaid."
Trish lowers her book. "No way!"
"She did. I said yes."
"Good. I'd have to hit you if you didn't."
I laugh. "She also wants me to bring a date. Are you busy next spring?"
Trish narrows her eyes. "I don't think that's what she meant."
"I know. Just joking. Besides, I might be dating by then anyway."
Trish sits up. "Decided to see Steve?"
"To win five dollars from him. He's taking me out Saturday. I've got another date on Friday, too."
Trish gets up off the couch. "Way to go, girl! About time you got a life."
I blush. "I didn't do anything special, Trish. They asked me."
"They? Two different guys are taking you out?" She starts walking to the kitchen with her empty mug.
I crane my neck to follow her. "You've had two different guys on the same weekend, too."
Trish gets up off the couch. "Way to go, girl! About time you got a life."
I snap my head around to face Trish. "What just happened?"
"You got yourself two dates."
"No, just now."
Trish gets up off the couch. "Are you okay, Jackie?" She starts walking to the kitchen. "Where is Steve taking you this weekend."
"Steve's taking me out for dinner. Friday is dinner and a movie with Lance."
From the kitchen, Trish says, "You said yes to two different guys?"
Why hasn't Trish noticed that she got off the couch twice? Or that she's repeating a conversation we've just had? "You've done it before." I'm half expecting Trish to get off the couch again.
Instead, Trish returns with a handful of chocolate chip cookies. "You're not me, as you've reminded me many many times. And you really need to get out more. Now someone else can drag you to nightclubs and movies."
"I don't need to be dragged anywhere, Trish."
"You wouldn't have met Steve if it wasn't for me dragging you out to Shattered last weekend."
I concede the point. "It's not like we're sleeping together, though."
"Baby steps first, Jackie." Trish sits down on the couch and starts munching on one of the cookies. "You'll have sex when you're ready for it. That's something I won't push you on."
My cheeks redden. "Thanks." She still doesn't know about me and Zach. "How are you and Simon doing?"
Trish shrugs. "I think we're better off as friends. The sex is decent but not great, and even he's seeing it. No inspiration from either of us."
"What about Justin?"
"What about him?"
"You were getting along with him Friday. He seemed like a good guy to me."
"You don't have to work with him."
I shrug. "True, but he seemed okay here."
"That's because he had witnesses all around him."
"I thought he spent time with you out in the back while you were grilling everything."
"I don't remember that," Trish says quickly.
I raise an eyebrow. "He wasn't up here like everyone else."
"Are you sure?"
I nod. "Positive. I managed to even keep Vihn and Sarah from getting it on in your room before dinner."
"That's why they kept looking at each other. Why did Vihn leave?"
"He had a shift at his parents' store yesterday morning. I'm sure if he knew you were playing strip poker and that Sarah's just awful at it, he'd have stayed for the game."
Trish blushed. "I was drunk when I suggested it."
"You were drunk when you were done grilling."
"I didn't go through all my beer Friday night, did I?"
"There's still a few bottles in the back. Want one now?"
Trish shakes her head. "Leave them. I'll have one after work tomorrow. Hey, who brought the kangaroo wine?"
I try to remember Friday through the haze of two alcohol filled nights. "Steve, I think. Why?"
"No one touched it. It's still on the counter not even opened."
"Weird, especially the way the booze was flowing. Can you put it away? I'll let Steve know when I see him again and ask him what he wants done with it."
Trish sets her remaining cookies down and returns to the kitchen. When she comes back, she has more chocolate chip cookies in her hand. "Here." She gives the small pile to me.
"Thanks. The wine's put away?"
Trish looks confused. "The wine? Oh, right, that's why I was in there."
"Are you feeling okay, Trish?" She's never been this forgetful when she's sober.
"Yeah, why?"
I shrug. "Just wondering." I set down the cookies on the end table then get out of the chair. I walk into the kitchen. The bottle of Cape d'Estaing Cabernet is in the middle of the counter with nothing around it. I don't think it moved since I set it down on Friday. I pick it up and move it out of the way.
Trish joins me in the kitchen. "Want to go out for lunch?" she asks.
"And pay for it how?" I ask back. Between the party Friday and dinner out with the family yesterday, my entertainment budget for this month is shot. I'm going to be pushing it next weekend as it is with the dates.
"Oh, right. Want to just get out of the apartment, then?"
Now I get what Trish wants. "Sure. Want to head to the Tim's to get a coffee and doughnut?"
"Sounds good to me. Is your car working yet?"
Damn, I knew there was something I forgot. "Uncle Larry hasn't looked at it. Hey, want to go to my folks' place? Hannah and Nick should still be there."
Trish brightens. "I'll get my things."
I go grab my backpack, making sure my laptop is in it. Hannah would understand me bringing it along. She's gone through her bachelor's degree and had her own insane workload to deal with. Mom might complain, but she'll understand, too.
Trish and I go down to the parking lot. I take a look underneath the Honda. No puddle of oil or gas has formed since I broke it. Trish gets in on the passenger side. I put my pack in back before getting in behind the wheel. I cross my fingers before starting the car. It only takes two attempts to get the motor to turn over.
The trip to Kanata is uneventful. Sunday afternoon on the Queensway is light, especially when the hockey team is out of town. Later tonight, the influx of people returning home will make the east bound lanes busier, but a quick ride now is all I need.
Hannah's car is back in the driveway when we arrive. Dad, Nick, and Uncle Larry are in the garage looking at Dad's Charger. I honk my Honda's horn. My car has an anemic beep compared to what Dad and Hannah's cars have. Dad waves to me as I park my car. "Go on in," I tell Trish. "I'll catch up."
Trish and I get out of the car. She runs up to the front porch and lets herself inside. I walk over to join the guys at Dad's car. "Hi!"
Dad gives me a quick hug. "Hi, honey. I see your car got you here."
"Surprised me, too," I say. "Mom said you might be able to look at it, Uncle Larry."
Uncle Larry looks over at my little Honda. "What's wrong with it?"
"It doesn't want to start up right away."
"The weather you've been having here, I don't blame it. Go pop the hood."
I dash back to my car, open the driver's door, then reach in and pull the hood release lever. The hood springs up enough for Uncle Larry to grab it and raise it fully. I wander over to beside him and look in on what he's doing. "Is it bad, Doctor?"
Uncle Larry gives me a sidelong glare. "Have you been racing, Jackie?"
"Racing?" I look at the engine, not sure what I'm looking for. Motherboards, I can see problems on at a glance. Engines, not so much. "I've got a bit of a lead foot on the Queensway, but I don't race."
"What about your little friend."
"Trish?" I have to laugh. "Trish hates driving on highways and leaves it to me. She's always holding on to the aw-shit bar."
Uncle Larry points at something I don't recognize. "Then why is this warped? I can bend it back in shape, but it'll need replacing."
I must have done it when I magicked the car started on Friday. I must have overclocked the engine and instead of melting the CPU, I warped components. "How much is that part?"
"Depends where you get it. Labour will cost you more, though."
Great, another expense. "If I take it easy on my baby here, will it last until after the new year?"
Uncle Larry looks down at the part while mulling over my question. "If you take it easy, sure. I might be able to get it back in its original shape, but it won't be as strong as it should be. No racing, and don't break the speed limit by forty klicks."
"No speeding at all, Jackie," Dad adds. "I prefer you in one piece."
Uncle Larry closes the hood. "And Hannah would appreciate you not needing a cast during her wedding."
I hold up my hand as for the Girl Guide pledge. "I promise. No speeding, no cast, or I'll let Hannah take it out on me."
Dad kisses me on my forehead. "Good. Now get inside before you catch a cold."
I head back inside as the boys return to looking at Dad's Charger. Once I'm in, I hear Mom, Hannah, Aunt Janice and Trish chatting excitedly. I slip off my running shoes and joing them in the living room. All of them stop talking when I appear. "Um, hi?" I say. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
"No, dear," Mom says. "Have a seat."
I sit down beside Hannah on the sofa. "What's up?"
"Our moms have been making me look at china patterns and dresses. You have to save me, Jacks."
I look over to Trish. "I think we can do that."
"Hold on, young lady," Mom says. She flips to a page she has bookmarked in a bridal magazine. "What do you think of this?" She points to a picture before handing me the book.
The pink and white dress in the photo has a full length skirt, no sleeves, though, fortunately, isn't strapless. Its train trails the model by at least a metre. The caption calls it a bridesmaid dress. There's enough lace there to keep several goth girls happy once they dyed it black. "Is this for you or me, Mom?"
"I told you she'd find it too much," Hannah says.
"I'd trip over it."
"You just have to learn to walk in it," Aunt Janice says.
I take another look. The skirt hides the model's feet. "Can I wear my runners underneath?"
Mom grabs the magazine back from me. "No."
Hannah puts a hand on my shoulder. "I think it'd be better if I looked for my dress first." She stands up. "Jackie and Trish can help." She pulls me upstairs. Trish has to rush to keep up. Once all three of us are up in my old bedroom and the door closed, Hannah says, "Thanks for coming by."
"No problem. I didn't know you were needing a reason to escape."
"That dress is so not Jackie," Trish adds. "I mean, pink and fluffy? Doesn't even come close to representing her."
Hannah looks me over. "You're right. I see her being more a red with black lace."
I glare at Hannah. "What?"
Trish continues, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to put your bridesmaids in corsets. I'd love to see Jackie in a nice red one."
I turn to face Trish. "Hey!"
"I think I can arrange that." Hannah smirks. "Polyvinyl or should I splurge on proper leather?"
"Proper leather, definitely."
I roll my eyes. "Over my dead body."
"Kinky, Jackie." Trish giggles.
"Seriously, though, that dress is too foofy for my wedding. I want everyone to look nice, not like refugees from a lace and tulle factory."
I knew there was a reason Hannah was my favourite cousin. Her sister's wedding was a cotton candy explosion with all the pink and lace on her and her bridal party. Even Tandy, our mutual cousin, had a wedding that featured fluffy colours. Hannah has better taste. "Thanks, Hannah." I stare down Trish. "And no corsets. I prefer that my cleavage stay out of sight."
"Steve's loss," Trish says.
"Wait, huh? Jacks, who is Steve?"
Trish answers for me. "Her latest conquest."
"I wouldn't call him that," I huff.
"She met him at a bar last weekend," Trish continues, completely ignoring me. "He's has an MBA and great taste in clothes, not that she'd notice."
"I did notice on Friday, Trish. I don't have to point it out to him."
"You should have seen them, Hannah. Jackie's never been so coordinated while dancing. It's like they fit together on the dance floor."
"No casualties at all?"
"Oh, funny, you two." I can't get too upset, though. It's the truth.
"Why didn't you say anything last night?" Hannah asks.
"I only just met him. We haven't had a chance to talk to each other for more than ten minutes."
"Oh, please, Jackie," Trish says. "I saw you with him during our barbecue. You spent most of the evening with him, talking and dancing. Hannah, during slow songs, you couldn't even slide a sheet of paper between them, they were that close."
"You have to introduce him to me before the wedding," Hannah insists.
It's obvious to me that they're not listening. "Guys, I don't know if I like him like that. Just because we dance well together doesn't mean we're right for each other for anything beyond a dance contest."
"You know what they say dancing leads to," Trish says.
"I am not sleeping with him."
"Why not?" Hannah asks.
Right now, I wish my bed was a four-poster so I can bang my head on one of the posts. "Hannah, I don't just leap into bed because some guy asks me out, okay?"
"Then how did you and Zach ever have sex?"
Trish gasps. "No way!"
My face must be as red as a beet. "Thanks, Hannah."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Trish slaps me across my upper arm. "Jackie, you never told me you slept with Zach. When did this happen?"
"After the senior prom." I shrug. Old news anyway. I preferred if it was just my old news. "Hannah, how did you find out?"
"Zach's older brother told me. He didn't say it was with you, but I knew you and Zach were sort of seeing each other at the time."
"How was it?"
"Trish, please? I'd prefer not to say."
"I'm your best friend. You could have told me. I wouldn't have gossipped."
"It's not something I wanted to tell anyone," I maintain. "I don't ask you about your sex life, even when I can hear it. If it was important, you'd tell me. Same thing with me. Zach was . . . was there for me and I was there for him, that's all." We were teenagers. We had no idea of what we're doing. Arms and legs were everywhere. At least the condom didn't break. I don't think either of us would have been ready for any consequences.
"Fine, fine." Trish backs down. "At least let me know if you get up to anything with Steve. He looks like he'd be fun to be with."
I roll my eyes while Hannah laughs. "If I don't want him, you can have him, okay?"
"Great!" Trish looks around at the luggage in the room. "Hannah, is Nick staying with you in this room?"
"There really isn't anywhere else. Mom and Dad have the guest room in the basement."
A sickening thought dawns on me. I shouldn't be judgmental about them. Hannah is engaged to him, but, ew! Why in my bed? I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep in it again just knowing that Hannah and Nick have had sex here.
"How long are you in town?" Trish asks.
"We're going back to Kingston tonight. Nick has to work tomorrow and I have a late morning class. Mom and Dad are going back to Toronto tomorrow by train, if Uncle Mitch can fit everything into his car."
"I'll come and visit soon," I say. "You have my email address still?"
Hannah nods. "I'll send you the dates for the fittings and the meet and greet for the bridal party."
"Thanks."
"Are you staying around for dinner? I'm cooking and I'd love for you to join us."
Trish answers first. "Sure! Beats cooking at home."
I never knew Hannah could cook. When we were younger, she was able to burn Jell-O. I've never felt comfortable eating with her since then. "Yeah, sure," I say. Maybe she's gotten better. Or Nick has the constitution of a horse.
"I better get dinner started, then. It's something new that I want to try."
I'm getting a bad feeling about dinner. "I hope you've gotten better since you burned dessert."
"I can follow a recipe better now. The Jell-O is safe. Besides, I made cake for dessert tonight."
"See, Jackie?" Trish says. "Cake."
"I'll try it. You can take responsibility if I can't get to school tomorrow, right?"
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