reached over to give me a one-armed, brotherly hug.
“You baby dykes get a girlfriend and fall off the face of the earth,” she said, seeming more proud than annoyed. I bristled, wondering if Jamie had heard, and then wondering why I cared.
“She’s not really my girlfriend,” I said, shrugging. I swore I could feel eavesdropping rays extending from Jamie’s ears to the back of my head, the way it looked in cartoons. I lowered my voice, just in case. “It’s more of a casual thing.”
Dee nodded, clearly not believing me. “Sure,” she said. “Isn’t it always.” She started some milk under the steamer, preparing my drink. Gaby appeared from around the corner, and when she saw me she gave me a defeated wave.
“Everything okay?” I asked, even though I knew it was not.
“Everything’s fine,” said Dee.
“You don’t have to baby them,” said Gaby. She stepped in closer to me, blowing wine breath in my face as she spoke. “We’re a little…a lot behind on some payments,” she explained.
My shock was only half feigned; I hadn’t expected either Gaby or Dee to confide in us so frankly, and it was clear from Dee’s expression as she plunked my drink on the counter that she hadn’t either.
“Gab,” she warned. “Quinn has her own shit to deal with.” She filled a mug with black coffee from the drip and set it on the counter, nudging it meaningfully toward Gaby. Just the sight of it seemed to straighten Gaby out.
“She’s right. I’m just having a day.” She looked over my shoulder at Jamie, and my eyes followed. Jamie immediately returned to her phone, texting or pretending to. Then I felt a buzz in my back pocket and realized she was texting me. I pulled it out and read: What’s happening??
I slid my phone back into my jeans. “This is kinda unrelated, and I definitely don’t want to stress you guys out, but we were wondering if we could finally schedule that second Sweets show,” I said quietly.
“What?” said Dee.
I cleared my throat and leaned closer. “Another Sweets show? We could charge more for tickets this time.”
“When?” said Gaby. “We have limited hours over the holidays.”
I chewed my lip. Probably I should have had a date in mind before I proposed a show. Jamie was going to kill me, for several reasons. “Let me get back to you on that,” I said.
Gaby nodded distractedly and took a big sip of her black coffee. She made a face, and Dee tossed three Splenda packets onto the counter for her. Gaby grimaced gratefully. I grabbed my latte and made a beeline for Jamie, wanting to let them have their moment. It was strange, the things you learned about a person when you loved them, and how you kept that trivia always, even as that person moved in and out of your life. I could only assume I would always know that Jamie wanted her Diet Coke in bottle form, with a straw (but only if it was reusable), and while I’d found these sorts of artifacts endlessly depressing when we first broke up (because Diet Coke was everywhere, the color blue was everywhere, our songs were played everywhere), seeing Dee know Gaby that well, and that specifically, felt reassuring to me.
I sat across from Jamie, who glared at me, her lips tightly pursed.
“I know you saw my text,” she hissed, trying not to move her mouth.
I laughed, like she had to know I would. Her outraged ventriloquist-dummy impression always got me. “I did. I’m sorry. I thought it could wait thirty seconds.”
“So?”
I looked over my shoulder. Gaby had disappeared into the office and Dee leaned against the back counter, reading a paperback until the next customer came in. Which, on a weekday at three-thirty in the afternoon, could take a while.
“Nothing we didn’t already guess,” I said. “Behind on payments.”
“Is Gaby…?”
I nodded. “A little. Dee gave her coffee.”
“I saw.”
Just then I noticed the envelope from the office of Linda Weller