“I’ve gotta go,” Caro said quickly, ending the call.
“Girl, what’s up? Was that Trey? Seriously, if this is still about last night, he needs to get over it.”
“No. It’s fine. I’m drunk and he’s an asshole sometimes no matter what I do,” Caro said, hugging her phone to her chest. When she looked up at the ceiling, she began sobbing.
Rosemarie put her arms around Caroline, closed her eyes. She didn’t ask any more questions, didn’t say anything at all. Just held her and let her cry.
Rosemarie convinced Caro to sleep it off. She’d seen Caro drunk plenty of times, but this time she was sad drunk. So early in the day too. While Rosemarie sat next to the pillow, petting Caro’s hair, she was in and out of sleep, apologizing. For being too drunk, for not asking about Esme enough. Caro even apologized for a stupid fight she and Rosemarie got into back in middle school over which famous artist to pick for their group project. Rosemarie wanted to do Van Gogh and Caro chose Georgia O’Keeffe. They had to do O’Keeffe since Rosemarie was outnumbered.
“I picked her because everything she painted was a vagina and I love vaginas. You love vaginas too, but I’m sorry, Roses,” Caro said.
Rosemarie cackled and touched Caro’s cheek.
“You’re right. You’re exactly right, sweet Caroline. I do love vaginas.” Rosemarie shushed her. “Go to sleep.”
“I’m very drunk.”
“I know. It’s all right. Drink some more water and take these. You’ll feel better, and I’ll see you later tonight,” Rosemarie said quietly. Caro sat up enough to swallow the ibuprofen. Rosemarie made her drink one more big gulp of water before she lay down again and closed her eyes.
Caro’s phone lit up with messages from Trey.
i get so mad at you
but you married me so it cant be
all bad bc
you love me
why else would we be together
i wasnt hurting for a fucking
woman when i asked you
i may swing by dukes
text me later
and yes the chicken was good
Rosemarie knew Caro’s passcode; RACK had always known one another’s favorite numbers and passwords. She put it in, and feeling guilty—but not guilty enough to not do it—she read the texts from Trey. Caro snuggled up in the blankets and rolled away from her. Rosemarie could smell the alcohol sweetening her sleeping breath, warming up the room. The song the bluegrass band was playing ended with a quick flair of fiddle, and another took its place. “Blue Moon of Kentucky.”
Rosemarie’s stomach hurt as she read through Trey’s nasty responses to Caroline. Rosemarie had never really known or liked Trey; none of them had except Caro, and obviously she saw something good in him, peeking out from behind the dark clouds of that much money and his family name. And although Trey’s looks were tolerable, Mr. Darcy’s words ran through Rosemarie’s head oftentimes when she saw him: Not handsome enough to tempt me.
She considered responding to Trey from Caro’s phone. Properly telling him to fuck all the way off forever. Instead, Rosemarie looked down at her best friend’s thick river of red hair washing across the sunlit pillow and put the phone back on the bed.
*
Rosemarie was at her parents’ place now. Home. Her parents were out of town for a couple more days, playing a folk music festival in Tennessee. So, for now, the whole colorful, cozy house was left to her and her Australian shepherd, Basie. The dog demanded Rosemarie’s total, undivided attention when she met her at the door, so Rosemarie gave her some love and let her out to do her business in the backyard grass.
Basie was sleeping warm across Rosemarie’s feet on the couch when her phone woke her up. She’d opened the windows and climbed into the conversation pit, even though it was a tad too hot to have turned off the AC. She felt better than she had earlier in the day, and it seemed like a bit of magic, how good her body could feel in the sun when she ate the right things, drank enough water, got enough rest. Sometimes all she needed was her dog and some softness, some color to make her feel like everything in this world was going to be okay. The humidity had plunged her into an even deeper sleep, and now she found herself pleasantly dreamy and drowsy, stretching as much as she could without disturbing the dog, when she answered the phone and heard her mom’s voice.
“Hey, baby, I was gonna leave a voicemail. I didn’t think I could catch you, considering little Miss Taylor is basically holding you hostage the whole week,” Leilani Kingston said to her.
“I’m napping in the sunny conversation pit. Basie and I are worthless right now, two lazy summer pups.” Rosemarie rubbed the dog’s head, and the dog returned the love with a deep groan of pleasure.
“Sounds lovely. Your dad and I have, like, a two-hour break until we need to be on stage again. It’s been fun! Almost everyone else is younger than us, but we’re trying not to let it make us feel too bad about ourselves.” Rosemarie could hear the high lonesome sound of a fiddle somewhere behind her mom’s voice, some scattered applause and birdsong too. She put the phone on mute so she could yawn properly.
“You will always be young and beautiful to me,” Rosemarie said when she was finished.
“Thank you. Esme’s not there yet?”
“No. Everyone keeps asking me about her, though. This is why I don’t like telling people things. Too much fuss.”
“I’m sorry. Do you not want her to come?” Leilani asked. Rosemarie heard her dad’s gruff voice in the background. “Your daddy says hi.”
“Hi, Daddy. And sure, I want Esme to come. Sure, I do. I’m just tired of talking everything to death. Who has the time?”
“I know that’s right.”
Rosemarie had stripped out of her linen suit before her nap. She slid her bare legs from underneath the dog and rolled over to stand. She turned her phone on speaker so she could read her text messages while her mom chatted away.
From Kasey.
Should we let Caro sleep?
I’m not drinking much tonight. Are
you?
I feel too old for this already.
From Ada.
Are you still at home?
What time are you going to Duke’s?
From Esme.
I hope you have/had a nice nap!
Proud of you for resting, honestly.
Resting is healing and don’t forget
how much you need it. You never
turn your little engine off!
Love you.
After seeing Kasey’s texts, Rosemarie got pissed all over again about Trey’s messages to Caro. She bent to snatch her suit off the floor.
“Well, that’s about it. Call us tomorrow. Try to enjoy yourself. We love you so much it hurts,” Leilani said. “Oh! If you talk to your brother, tell him to call or text his damn mama. It’s been, like, two weeks now.”
Her brother was a DJ based mostly in London, and he was terrible at communication. Eventually, when he did finally pop up in the group chat, he’d announce he was somewhere else, like Seoul or Athens. Or Barcelona. A year ago, she and Esme had met him there and gone to one of his shows.
“I will. I talked to him Wednesday. He’s fine. He’s been in Spain since Monday. Love y’all so much it hurts,” Rosemarie said.
She texted everyone back. Asked Kasey to try getting Caro up in about two hours and told her she wasn’t planning on drinking much tonight either. Told Ada she’d meet everyone at Duke’s at seven. Told Esme she loved her too and sent her the train emoji because of its little engine. Then, Rosemarie headed out the door for a short walk with Basie excitedly prancing on her leash.