Page 58 of Poinsettia Lane

Tapping the back of her phone with her index finger, she texts him again to check in, anxiety hounding her while she does her best not to give in to it. Bouncing her legs in anticipation, she looks through the steam over her mug of tea at Frankie working behind the counter of Roasted as she takes a sip.

Frankie senses her gaze and they quirk an eyebrow in her direction. Everly sends them a strained smile, lowering her mug to the worn wooden table in front of her, then looks back down at her phone. She tries to tell herself he’s just busy, rationalizing the thought as best she can. The spring must be a busy time of year for plantrelated things, and he probably isn’t ignoring her on purpose.

She pushes the worries out of her head as much as she can. Tonight she’s having Frankie over for dinner and drinks, to show off her hard work. Whether her relationship with Asim ultimately works out or not, she is happy with the changes she has made in her life so far. These are the thoughts she’s trying to hold on to and keep at the forefront when, for some reason, it feels like she’s on the edge of something, like her life could change at any moment and she isn’t sure if it would be for better or worse.

When closing time hits, she hops up from her seat, then pushes it under the table and snags a rag from behind the counter. She wipes down the tables and counters while Frankie closes out the register, having already dismissed their other worker for the day. Thankfully it’s Sunday, so it’s still light out when they lock up and head out.

As they stroll down the street, they pass by José, who tips his hat at her in greeting, and Everly blinks before smiling and nodding back at him, surprised he remembers her. To her consternation, Chantel, the owner of the cute little locally made shop who she also met while dropping off poinsettias, acknowledges Everly too. She’s also closing up for the day and is just locking the door when they pass by and she smiles at the two of them, greeting them both by name.

Frankie gives Everly a strange, sideways look in response to these interactions, which Everly promptly ignores, because she has no idea what she would even say. Being recognized with friendly greetings around town isn’t something she has much experience with. The two of them walk back to Everly’s place, trading stories about their busy weeks and joking about a spicey romance book they both recently read.

When Everly dramatically flings open the back doors to the patio, leading Frankie out and throwing her arms wide with a theatrical “ta-dahhh”, Frankie claps good-naturedly.

“Honestly, I can’t believe you did any part of this," Frankie says, laughing as they walk down the steps nextto the terracing and leaning over to smell the flowers. Their eyes are wide as they consider the new landscaping, and they truly look both surprised and impressed.

“I can’t believe you doubted me," Everly says. When Frankie quirks an eyebrow and tips their head at her, she relents. “Okay same, I kind of can’t believe I did this either, but it looks great, right?!”

“It really does. Looks amazing.”

Everly lifts and drops her shoulders in a satisfied bounce, a small smile on her face.

“Want to order or cook?” she asks. Everly and Frankie have an unspoken agreement not to wait on each other. Either they cook together, helping out no matter whose place they’re at, or they order in, and they always clean up together.

“Hmmm.” Frankie meanders back up the stairs and plops into a patio chair. “I’m feeling pizza. Can we do pizza? Order or make, doesn’t matter to me.”

“Pizza sounds divine. Let me check what I have in the pantry, we may need to order.”

Frankie nods their agreement, calling that they’ll be in shortly as Everly tromps inside, poking through her cabinets and determining that no, she does not have even half the ingredients they’d need for homemade pizza, so she places an order to their local pizza joint.

“It’ll be here in forty five,” she calls out the door to Frankie.

“Perfect, how about a drink?” Frankie hops up and joins her inside, making their way to the kitchen and helping themself to her alcohol stash before the two settle out back on the patio again, bringing the whole bottle with them.

“So, I met this girl…” Frankie begins.

“Hold, please," Everly says. “I have a feeling I’m gonna need a refill for this story.”

“That’s for sure.” Frankie drains their glass and holds it up for a refill too, before proceeding to tell Everly in excruciating detail about their latest love interest, who they went out with a few times, until it came to light that she was just “experimenting”. Everly cringes, hiding behind her half-full glass while Frankie continues, tellingher how in the middle of the last date, she decided the bisexual lifestyle wasn’t for her after all. The dramatic exit sounds movie-worthy and Everly’s heart aches for her friend.

Hours later, the pitcher plus two bottles of wine sit empty on the table, and neither one of them is able to stand up straight.

~~~

Everly wakes with a pounding headache and pats around her body in search of her phone. Finding it under her pillow, she squints her eyes in an effort to minimize the light beaming into her tortured retinas and taps it, then flips it over and looks at the back for some reason, not comprehending why the screen is remaining black.

Throwing it back down, she flings her arm over her eyes and groans.

“Aspirin," she croaks, and then nearly startles right off the side of the bed when she hears an answering groan from the floor next to her.

“Frankie?” she says. “You didn’t go home?”

“Apparently not," Frankie mumbles, sounding like their face is buried in a pillow.

“Why are you down there?” Everly’s brain isn’t quite working yet, and she can’t figure out why Frankie wouldn’t have shared the bed with her like they’ve done on countless other sleepovers.

“How should I know.”

Everly closes her eyes again, mind blank. Obviously, neither of them is vibing well with the concept of functioning right now.

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