Page 4 of Bourbon Bliss
Numbers made sense. People did not.
Yet I lived in a world where people existed, and I found that it pleased the people I cared about if I spent time interacting with them. Which sometimes meant joining my sister for a girls’ night at the Lookout on a Thursday.
I prepared my dinner, dividing the meal precisely into two portions. One I placed on a plate, while the other went into the refrigerator for tomorrow. Although I generally only cooked for one person—myself—I had a collection ofcooking for twocookbooks on a shelf in my kitchen. Cooking twice what I needed increased my kitchen efficiency, allowing me to prepare half the number of meals I would otherwise need.
“Hey, Juney.” Jonah came downstairs, running a towel over his wet hair. “That smells good.”
I stiffened. Did he mean he wanted to share? Or was he simply commenting on the pleasant aroma of my meal?
“It’s likely the combination of basil and garlic that produces the scent you’re enjoying,” I said. Cassidy would say it would be polite to offer him some. “Would you like a portion?”
“Oh, thanks, but no,” he said. “I’m doing intermittent fasting, so I’m not eating again until tomorrow.”
“Good. I made the second portion for myself to eat tomorrow, so that works out for both of us.”
He smiled in a way that made me wonder if he was amused or irritated with me. It was hard for me to tell. “Guess so. Do you have plans tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Um, what are they?”
“Girls’ night at the Lookout.”
“Sounds fun,” he said. “I have to be up early in the morning, so I’m staying in. Feel free to call me if you need a ride or anything, though.”
“The chance of me overindulging in alcohol is approximately one percent,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll be able to drive myself. But thank you for the offer.”
He smiled again. “No problem.”
Jonah was my first ever roommate. I’d gone from living with my parents and sister to living alone. I’d even lived alone in college. I didn’t like sharing my space. Another person meant someone moving things from their rightful places, making messes, and worst of all, failing to understand the importance of football on Sundays.
But Jonah was a pleasant roommate. He was unobtrusive, clean, and cooked his own meals. And he never, ever tried to dictate the television schedule when there were games on. We’d even watched the Superbowl together, although at the time I’d still been mourning my fantasy football league loss.
Jonah went off to do whatever it was Jonah did. I had my dinner, then settled onto the couch with a book. Cassidy, Scarlett, and Leah Mae were no doubt using this time to prepare for the upcoming evening. Women seemed to feel a night out necessitated a lengthy routine of makeup application, the use of various hair products and heated appliances, and a great deal of indecision when it came to clothing choices.
Wardrobe decisions were simple calculations. You took the occasion, time of day, expected attendees, and venue, and accounted for the season and current weather conditions.
Occasion: spontaneous girls’ night
Time of day: weeknight evening
Expected attendees: Cassidy, Scarlett, Leah Mae, and various other Bootleg Springs residents
Venue: The Lookout
Season and current weather conditions: early February, cold and dry
Outcome: sweater, jeans, thick socks, boots
It had taken me no more than a few seconds to reach the appropriate conclusion. As for the rest of the primping routine, I saw no need to augment my appearance with cosmetics or spend a great deal of time and effort on my hair. It wasn’t as if I was going to the Lookout to attract a mate.
Neither were the other women in my life, of course. They were all firmly ensconced in committed relationships. Which made their desire to spend so much time on their appearance even more perplexing. Who were they dressing upfor,now that they were no longer single?
I didn’t understand people.
At seven fifty-five, I got up and put on my boots and coat. I lived a short drive from the Lookout, and if past behavior served as an accurate predictor of future outcomes—and I knew that it did—the other girls would arrive between five and fifteen minutes after the agreed upon time. In other words, I was not in a rush.
To my surprise, when I arrived at the Lookout at eight-oh-two, Cassidy’s car was in the parking lot.
