“It just seems like something’s bothering you.” At the moment, she didn’t seem drunk, but maybe she’d gotten to the point where her tolerance was so high, I wouldn’t realize if she had a serious problem. And that scared me.
Instead of answering, she tipped her head back with a soft, wistful sigh. “You remember in ninth grade, we were so worried about homecoming?”
I nodded. Unlike the last thing she’d asked about, I recalled this angst all too clearly. “If nobody asked us, should we go together, should we make the first move but what if he says no and if he says yes, how are we getting to the mall to buy a dress—”
“I miss that simplicity,” she said quietly. “Back then, our problems seemed so huge and insurmountable. But we obsessed and we got through.”
“That’s because we had each other. And we still do, LB. Whatever’s going on, I’m here when you want to talk.”
She smiled and handed me the rest of her drink. “Thanks. Can we just watch TV today?”
“Sure.” We vegged for half an hour in silence before I remembered to ask, “Want to go home for Thanksgiving? If I go alone it’ll take two days, and that’ll hardly be worth it.”
“My mom would love it,” she said thoughtfully. “And it’d be cool to see your family, along with some of our old crew.”
“Most of them are gone but they might be back for the holiday. Rob’s there, though. Want to catch up with him?”
She surprised me by blushing, which she covered by smacking me with a pillow. “Shut up. I don’t need to remind you of Matt Pomerico, do I?”
I laughed. “God, remember how I logged his movements? 9:15 a.m. Matt asks for bathroom pass. I was such a weirdo.”
“What do you mean, was?” She dodged my return swat, seeming more cheerful than she had in days. “And sure, definitely. Let’s go home this year.”
“I was thinking we could take turns driving, swap every two hours. It’ll be a long-ass day, eight hours each, but if we leave at 6:00 a.m. on Wednesday, we should be there by ten—”
“Which is eight, Mountain Time. Not bad. Can you skip your practicum on Wednesday?”
“It’s canceled, along with the rest of my classes. I think my professors wanted to get on the road early.”
Lauren laughed. “Maybe they’re driving to Nebraska, too. I have class at eight, but I’ll ditch. The TA will probably just show a movie, anyway.”
“It’s a plan. What else do you have going on today?”
“Not much. I should call my mom and tell her, though. Otherwise, I might show up, say ‘Surprise!’ and the next day, we’ll be eating TV dinners.”
“It’s a lot of trouble to cook the whole spread for two people. Why don’t you both come to my house?”
“Your parents won’t mind?”
I figured I should touch base before extending hospitality somewhere that I didn’t live anymore. “Let me call home first. I’ll check, and then you can tell your mom.”
My phone was charging in my room, so I went to get it. We didn’t have a landline in the apartment since everyone had a cell, and this way, there were no mystery charges to argue about. My mom probably wouldn’t be working at the grocery store on a Saturday, at least not since her promotion. Sure enough, she picked up on the third ring.
“Hey,” I said.
“Nadia! I got your email. Are you wearing the scarf I sent you?”
I grinned. “Not at the moment.”
“Smart-ass. I meant when you go outside.”
“Then yes. How are you?”
“Good. Trying to keep your father from cutting down that pine tree in the backyard. He thinks it’s got some kind of bark disease. I think it’s fine.”
My dad yelled, “The tree is a menace! Next big storm and it’ll be on the neighbor’s roof.”
I laughed while they argued. When my mom gave me her full attention again, I asked, “And Rob?”
“He’s still working with your father. Oh, he’s dating one of your friends now. You used to run around with her when you were little.”
“Who?” For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine.
“Avery Jacobs.”
“Mom, we haven’t been friends since sixth grade.”
That didn’t faze her at all. Being wrong rarely did. My mom was delightfully, disturbingly cheerful. “Well, she used to be over here all the time, and now she is again.”
“Good for them, I guess.” Avery turned into kind of a bitch in junior high. For Rob’s sake, I hoped she’d gotten over that. “Anyway, that’s not why I called.”
“What’s up?”
“Lauren and I are planning to come home for Thanksgiving. I hope that’s all right?”
“That’s wonderful! I can’t wait to see you and to tell everyone. Your aunts and uncles will want to come and your cousins. Rob and Avery will be here—”
“Sounds like a full house. Would it be okay if Lauren and her mom came, too?”
“Of course! Ask her to bring a salad. With so many people, I usually do potluck. We supply the bird and trimmings, guests bring salads, sides and desserts.”
“Yum. I can bring wine.”
“If you want. But I don’t expect you and Lauren to do anything after such a long drive.”
“Okay. I’ll tell her Thanksgiving at Casa Conrad is a go, and I’ll see you next month.”
“I’m so excited! Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Mom had already hung up by the time I put the phone down. I went back to the living room to give Lauren the good news.
She wriggled happily. “You know what this means, right?”
I nodded. “Road trip!”
We hadn’t gone anywhere for a while since gas was so expensive. There was no question of buying plane tickets. But with some tightening, we could trim enough from our budgets to afford the trip there and back.
“This means no booze money for the next month,” Lauren said.
“Yep.” That was where I planned to cut corners, too. In some matters, she and I were always in sync without even trying. It relieved me that she didn’t seem too panicked at the idea of drying out for a while.
Then she said, “We could go to a few campus parties. There’s always free beer.”
“The cheap, shitty kind,” I muttered. The last guy I dated said I was a beer snob. He wasn’t wrong.