and I wore holes in the cheap linoleum, imagining where she had gone instead.
After more than a dozen laps, my legs burned and I had it in my head that she’d passed out somewhere alone. Or worse, with bad company. I finally stopped at the dresser, unreasonably winded and with an ache that went clear past my joints. I hated myself, and if I could’ve, I would’ve picked some other stationary object to lean on while catching my breath. That goddamn mirror wouldn’t leave me alone.
So I focused instead on the corner of the dresser, where Carl kept an engraved gavel from his Knights of Columbus days. Next to it sat two wine bottles. The first was mine, decorated with geometric stripes, in gray, midnight blue, and yellow, with two white carnations popping through the throat. Really nice, if I did say so myself. The other was in its pristine original condition, save for the dog-eared label and the lack of contents. Shawn had gifted me the demo after noticing the attention I’d paid to the project. He’d thought perhaps I’d want to make another one on a rainy day.
I pivoted it around on the dresser’s top so that it looked unmarred and, against my better judgment, popped the stained cork out to have a whiff. I wanted the tannins to dance across my nose—a quick tango, nothing like an actual drink, more like a nostalgic look at a picture—but there was nothing to smell. I shut my eyes and inhaled deeper, nearly plugging my nostril with it, and during my last draw, there it was: a hint of earthy, sweet ferment. My heart picked up speed, and the next logical step ensued. I turned the cork’s maroon tip to face me and placed it on the tip of my tongue.
A rapping came at the door. “Duffy?”
Startled, I turned. The doorjamb framed Alice like a portrait. I corked the bottle and slid it back to the corner.
“You weren’t at our current events discussion,” she said without a trace of disdain. She didn’t seem angry, even though I’d sent her to the mall with a puppy to watch and no leash.
“Oh, Alice.” I hung my head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be silly. You didn’t miss anything, except Mrs. Zimmerman, bless her heart, was surprised to hear that Kennedy had died. After that, we discussed what to do about that renovation business, though we didn’t come up with anything good.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s that I should’ve told you.”
“Told me what?”
“I had a feeling you’d lose Josie.”
“I didn’t lose her.”
“I mean, that she’d lose you.”
“She didn’t lose me either.”
I looked up. Alice stood perfectly still and serene, with her head cocked.
“But,” I stammered, “where is she then?”
“The mall. She’s getting a haircut. Sydney went back to pick her up. They should be here soon.”
“A haircut?”
Alice gave me a sly smile. “A girl ready to change her hair is ready to change the world. I can’t wait for you to see her. I bought her a new outfit, shoes and everything. I tried to talk her into this pretty, sheer blouse with a pink camisole underneath. It went with an adorable floral print skirt, but I don’t think it was her style. Oh, what am I saying? You don’t care, but she picked—”
Alice didn’t have a chance to finish. I wrapped her up in my arms, squeezing her close enough that the top of her head tucked right underneath my chin and her curls tickled my neck. She didn’t return the gesture at first, probably because I’d scared her. But I didn’t let go, and eventually her arms wrapped around my waist and squeezed me back. It’d been so long since I’d given or received a hug like this, and maybe it was the same for her, because we stood there for some time, not moving. Just the two of us existing in the space meant for one. The moment and the news she’d brought made me want to kiss her. And so I did. Right on top of her head.
Alice stepped back quick, smoothing her hair and checking her cardigan buttons.