“Worldly.”
“See? I knew you’d know. Worldly.” She tasted it. “Yeah. She’s definitely worldly, in lots of ways. Only, I never realized…”
“Nope,” I agreed.
We fell silent for a moment, and then she smiled.
“So, now you know why I’m in a good mood,” she said.
“Well, I know the majority of it. You still never told me about Lily.”
“Oh my gosh, Paul, you’re going to love her! I stayed after my appointment and waited for her. She was there for the same reason, by the way.”
“How’d you know?”
“Duh! She had a little bag with pills too. But I asked her. She and her boyfriend haven’t been using anything, and they had a little scare last month.”
I diplomatically kept my mouth shut. Christy and I would’ve had our own scare if we’d kept going with the rhythm method. And a scare would’ve been the best possible outcome. I wanted children, but not until we were ready.
“She talked to her roommate,” Christy was saying, “who told her to go to the clinic. She was worried they’d tell her parents, though. She kept putting it off, until her roommate got a pamphlet for her. They don’t tell your parents or anyone. I made sure of that myself when I made my appointment. Can you imagine if they called and my dad answered instead of my mom?” She shivered at the thought. “Oh my gosh, no. Just… no.”
“Hold on, you mean the clinic treated you like a grown up?”
“Funny, ha ha, Mr. Sarcastic. This is all so easy for you. But it’s a big deal for me! I still feel guilty. I’m going through with it, but I can’t change how I feel overnight.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” she grumbled. “I’m doing this for you.”
“No,” I reminded her, “you’re doing it for you. It’s your body. Heck, it’s your life.”
“Let’s compromise,” she said. “I’m doing it for us.”
“Fair enough.”
“Anyway, stop interrupting. I was talking about Lily. I totally have a crush on her.”
“Seriously? You just met her!”
“I had a crush on you when we first met,” she shot back. “You see how that worked out.”
“Yeah, after two years of stupidity on my part!”
“Well, let’s hope Lily isn’t as dense.”
I snorted a laugh. She had me there and she knew it.
“Oh, Paul,” she said, “I hope she comes tonight. You’ll see.”
* * *
Dinner was a disaster. In Trip’s defense, it wasn’t exactly his fault. It wasn’t really Wren’s either. She was up against a deadline for the first draft of her honors thesis, and she needed to work on it instead of cooking. But she still wanted to make something special for Christy’s birthday. Her solution was fairly clever. She’d planned a meal where everything cooked in a single pan in the oven. Then she’d asked Trip to keep an eye on the kitchen while she worked upstairs on the computer.
Wren smelled dinner burning and bolted downstairs to try to save it. Christy and I heard her go but didn’t understand why. Then we caught a whiff of smoke and made the connection. We ran downstairs, and Trip emerged from his office at the sound of the commotion. We were all too late.
Wren emerged from the kitchen, took one look at Christy, and dropped like a marionette whose strings had been cut. She sat in a heap on the floor and sobbed with rage, disappointment, and exhaustion. Trip knelt with his arm around her, while Christy sat in front of her and consoled her. They eventually calmed her down.
“Let’s take her upstairs,” Trip said.
Christy nodded, and they helped her to her feet. She looked worse than I’d ever seen. Her eyes were puffy from crying, but she had dark bags under them too. Her nose was red and runny, and her hair was a mess.
“Bath?” Christy suggested.
Trip picked Wren up. She clung to him and looked like a child in his arms.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Christy told her.
Wren snuffled and nodded miserably.
Christy turned to me once they were on the stairs. “Can you salvage dinner?”
“I’ll do what I can.”
“Clean up the mess and cook something. It doesn’t matter what. I’m going to take care of her.”
“Take a bottle of wine,” I said.
“Good idea.”
“And don’t forget the corkscrew.”
She gave me a reproachful look. “I love you, Paul, dear, but now isn’t the time.”
“Sorry.”
“We’ll laugh about it later.”
“Yes, dear.”
“Better.” She stretched up for a kiss. “And thank you.”
She could be a little dictator when she wanted to be, and all of a sudden I understood why Harold called Anne the Commander in Chief.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Christy said. “I’m my father’s daughter.”
“Your mother’s too.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She kissed me again. “I’d better get going.”
Trip came downstairs a few minutes after Christy went up.
“Shit,” he muttered. “That was all my fault.”
“What happened?”
“I thought she’d set the timer, and she thought I had. Rookie mistake! I should’ve double-checked. I knew she had her mind on her thesis.”
“No sense crying over spilled milk,” I said.
“Or burned duck?”
“Help me clean up and we’ll figure out something for dinner.”
“Christy suggested fish sticks,” he said. “She said we have a box of Mrs. Paul’s in the freezer. She took charge. Upstairs. Just like that.” He snapped his fingers. Then he added soberly, “I think maybe I underestimated her.”
“Oh?” I mocked. “Do tell.”
“Yeah, all right, I get it. No need to rub it in.”
“You’re right. Come on, let’s air out the kitchen and start cleaning up.”
He chuckled at a thought. “Nothing like a good crisis to pull us together.”
* * *
The girls came downstairs about an hour later. Wren looked more human but still wrung out. Her damp hair hung limp, although Christy had combed it. And she’d made an attempt at makeup, but it would take more than eyeliner and a little mascara to hide the dark smudges under her eyes. At least her shirt and sweatpants were clean.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“It’s my fault,” Trip said. “You put me in charge, and I blew it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Christy said.
“But… the duck,” Wren said. “The skin was going to be crispy and everything.”
“It’s my birthday, and I want fish sticks.”
“They’ll be ready in a few minutes,” I said on cue.
“We both checked the timer this time,” Trip said.
“And he did the dishes,” I added.
Wren looked up in surprise.
“Yep. He scrubbed the roasting pan and cleaned the stove from where you tried to save things. He even took out the trash.”
“It smelled disgusting,” he said bashfully.
Wren gave him a look of pure devotion.
“I’m so sorry, babe,” he said. “I know you wanted everything to be perfect—”
“It is perfect,” Christy insisted. “I’m the birthday girl, and I say so.” She glanced at me. “Will you open another bottle of wine, dear?” She pulled the corkscrew from her pocket and held it up with a wry grin.
Wren laughed and blinked back tears. “Y’all’re the best.”
“Darn right we are,” Christy said.
* * *
“I feel a thousand percent better,” Wren said after we’d eaten. “I never thought I’d say this, but that was the best dinner I’ve had in a while.”
“Sometimes simple is best,” Trip said.
“The wine didn’t hurt,” Christy added.
“And the company,” I said.
“Thank God for the company!” Wren laughed. Her smile lingered for a moment before it faded.
“Uh-oh,” Trip said. “What’s wrong?”
“I just remembered… we have company coming. The house’s a mess, I’m a mess—”