Page 103 of As a Last Resort
“At least not ones shaped like a raccoon’s,” Bill murmured under his breath as everyone cracked up again.Austin threw the marker at him.
After eight rounds, the score was tied.Turns out Rex was a pretty good Sharpie artist, and Bill was used to Austin’s eccentric drawings, which gave them a leg up.But Lexi and I still made a pretty good team, and with her mother’s drawings looking like professional sketchbook pieces, we were stiff competition.
“Last one, winner takes the title.”Bill tossed Mary Kay the marker.She plucked out a card from the fishbowl, looked over to us and grinned.
He counted down with flare.“And three, two, one, go!”
Tiny grains of sand fell through the small hourglass as Mary Kay drew a stand with a pitcher, and two stick figures smiling with money in their hands.Lexi and I looked at each other and screamed, “A LEMONADE STAND!”
Mary Kay threw the marker up into the air and bowed.She came in for a tipsy winners’ hug with the two of us as we fell back on the couch together in a fit of laughter, chanting “winner winner, chicken dinner.”
“I mean, of all the cards,” Austin mumbled under his breath.
“We’ll get ’em next time, boys,” Rex said, cheering them on in his best high school football coach voice.
Lexi crawled over to give him a kiss.“Always the encourager.”
I leaned back all warm and fuzzy from laughing.I hadn’t felt like a part of a family in a really long time.Hadn’t had bellyaching laughs and inside jokes and a mother figure who looked at me like she knew what I was thinking but wouldn’t out me.
I felt beautifully sad.
“On that note,” Austin stood and faced me with his hand out, “let me take you home.I could stand to walk off some of this humiliation.”My stomach flipped.
“Thank you for coming tonight.”Mary Kay pulled me in for a tight hug.“This was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”She pulled back and kept me at arm’s length with her hands holding my shoulders.“I hope it’s not seven years before we get to see you again.We’ve missed you.”
My chest sank a bit and it was a little harder to draw in a breath.I was having such a good time, I forgot I was leaving soon.With the weight of the looming promotion that had all but been officially decided lifted off my shoulders, I realized I let myself relax a little.Something I rarely did anymore.
Austin and I walked in a comfortable silence for a block or so, until I busted out laughing.
“What?”he asked, looking over at me smiling.
“I was just thinking of your dinosaur raccoon.”
“It was totally a dinosaur.”
“With ears.”
“A dinosaur with ears,” he laughed.“Exactly.”
“They’re amazing.I forgot how that felt.”My voice caught.
“How what felt?”
“Having a family.”I took a deep breath.“People who know you.Like, really know you.”My head was swimming from too much food and wine.I still felt the throbbing of my sore stomach muscles from laughter as we walked.
“I’m sorry.”
When people found out I barely had a family, they usually tried to make me feel better by telling me how awful their family was.Stories about their annoying older brother teasing them, their sister stealing their clothes, their awkward uncle hitting on their friends at Christmas dinner.God, what I would give for aburned-turkey-on-Thanksgivingstory of my own.
We continued to walk along quiet back roads until we hit his street.We heard crickets chirping, palm fronds swaying, and the sound of the water in the distance, but we didn’t see a single car drive by.I had a warm buzz radiating through me.For once I wasn’t obsessing about a call, or a report, or wondering what the next step was.I wasn’t upset about the lack of people running into me or the background noise of honking and shouting that was all but absent.
I was happy.
“Your family is amazing.And hilarious.”
“And they adore you.”
“That’s your typical Sunday night, then?”
