Page 13 of December Wishes
“Let me know if you need a ride home, okay?” she said to Leigh-Ann, who looked at her as if she were nuts. “It’s getting really cold and rainy out there at night. I worry about you riding your bike at this time of year.”
“My mom dropped me off,” Leigh-Ann said with pizza in her mouth. “Pretty sure the mayor is adamant about taking me back into town, if not straight to my house.”
Sunny glanced at Karen Rath, who laughed at a joke one of her girlfriend’s male coworkers told. “The mayor, huh? Nice.”
“Yeah, she didn’t bring a nice car, though. Not exactly riding in style.”
“Safety over style.”
‘Whatever you say.”
Sunny gritted her teeth and looked for solace in her best friend Anita, who sat with her arm curled around Bonnie, a petite and curvy woman who completely offset Anita’s tall and lean physique. Sunny hated to impose upon the selfie they were taking, but as soon as Anita saw her, she said, “Hey! I think Brandy was trying to get your attention a little bit ago. Saw her go out the back door in the kitchen.”
One of the guests sat down at the upright piano in the corner. After asking what Christmas jingle everyone wanted to sing, he smacked the keys and drowned out every other conversation in the room.
Well… as long as the guests were happy… Sunny supposed she could slip out for a few minutes. Not that she had any idea what Brandelyn was doing out back. The only things beyond the back porch were dormant plants and the cold concentration ofa certain soundSunny could never quite put her finger on, God help her. It was that ephemeral silence that beset every rural location, at least in America.This is a sound you get anywhere it’s dark and cold enough.People from the coast called it the faraway roar of the ocean. Mountain folk claimed it was the crash of avalanches. What did a girl who lived in the woods, far away from the ocean, say?
Perhaps it was the sound of deafening silence. A reminder that the universe didn’t care what anxieties Sunny suffered or what she wanted to do about them. None of it mattered. Not in the great macrocosm, where Sunny’s existence was but a blip nobody else saw.
Ah. Now that, coupled with a great inhale of fresh, crisp air, was exactly what Sunny needed. She slammed the screen door and allowed herself one mighty stretch of the arms. There! That should be good enough. Now, what had she come out here for, again?
Something tickled her nose. What was that sweet scent? She didn’t remember anyone baking. Besides, they couldn’t! The oven was dead!
One of the porch boards creaked. Sunny snapped her head to the left and saw a shadow coming toward her.
“Jesus,” she muttered. “You scared me, Bran.” Poor Sunny had already forgotten that Brandelyn was out here up to no good. Well, it was definitely no good right now. What else could it be when Sunny realized what the sweet scent was? “The hell are you doing?”
Brandelyn remained in the dark shadows of the back porch, but the curls of her hair and the smoke snaking up one of the posts were unmistakable. “Calming down. You know, something you could spare to do?”
“Is that pot?”
A small blunt appeared before Sunny’s face. “What? Like it’s illegal?” Brandy asked.
“Since when doyousmoke?” In all the years they had known each other, Sunny only heard of the occasional reference to the Northwest’s favorite plant. Dr. Brandelyn Meyer was so uptight and so in control ofeverythingthat getting high went against her personal operations’ manual. She might as well be popping oxy or getting piss drunk every night. Did not compute.
“I dabble, occasionally.” When it was clear Sunny wasn’t taking a hit, Brandy brought the blunt back up to her lips. She only coughed a little. “How do you think I handled all the wedding planning earlier this year?”
“Wine and the blood of your enemies.” Was that a trick question? “Seriously, I didn’t know you smoked. We’re married, Bran. When was this going to come up?”
Brandelyn blew smoke from her lips. “Now. This is more for you than it is for me.”
“Are you kidding?”
Mary-Jane asked to dance once again. Sunny shook her head. “You trying to tell me you’ve never indulged?” Brandelyn asked. “Didn’t you and Anita used to get up to all sorts of illicit shit before marijuana was legalized? Come on, don’t look at me like that. I never really had this until the government said I could! You know me. Such a goodie-goodie.”
“You are a doctor, after all.”
“Yes, and as your doctor, I’m recommending a hit or two. Calm your nerves.”
“I once had bad weed. Made me paranoid for two days straight.”
“You sure there wasn’t something else in that weed?”
“Ask Anita. She remembers. It made her streak down the hill. In front of guests.”
“Would you take a freakin’ hit already? I can’t hog it all. Everyone in there will know I’m high as shit and I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“And that won’t happen to me?”
