Page 55 of Bourbon Bliss
17
June
Istared into my open refrigerator, wishing it contained something suitable. When I’d first heard about George’s injury—back when he’d been nothing but a statistic on my fantasy football team—I’d been upset, and Cassidy had suggested I eat my feelings. An odd concept, to be sure, but it did contain a certain merit. Binging on carbs would spike blood sugar levels and the resulting dip as insulin flooded the body would make one sluggish and tired. Perhaps the resulting sensation of lethargy was preferable to sadness and anxiety.
Regardless of the biological mechanisms involved, I wanted carbs and fat. And thanks to my careful meal planning—and living with health-conscious Jonah—I didn’t have anything good.
How was a girl supposed to eat her feelings if there was nothing appropriate to eat?
What would Cassidy do? She’d text Scarlett. They’d do… whatever it was best girlfriends did when one of them was upset about a fight with her boyfriend. And that probably included eating something delicious.
I grabbed my phone and brought up Cassidy’s number. If I texted her for assistance, I knew she’d come. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was off today.
But what did I tell her? That my boyfriend and I had argued and I was feeling a potent mix of emotions I didn’t know how to process? Was he even still my boyfriend? How did I explain it all over text?
I decided to call.
Cassidy picked up partway through the third ring. “Hey, Juney. What’s up?”
“Are you currently occupied?”
“No, not really. I just got off my shift and I’m snuggling with George. George-cat, that is.”
“Would you be available to assist me with a problem?”
“Sure.” The tone of her voice changed. “What’s wrong?”
“I need to eat my feelings and I don’t have any carbs.”
“Juney, what are you talking about? What’s the matter?”
I switched my phone to my other ear. “I’m having an emotional crisis. I’m not sure what to do with all the feelings I’m experiencing and I think I need to eat.”
“Hang tight. We’ll be right over.”
Wemeant Cassidy would bring Scarlett. And maybe Leah Mae. That was fine with me. If they each brought a baked good, I’d have more options.
Twenty-two minutes later, all three women arrived. True to my prediction, all three had a box or bag. Cassidy had opted for ice cream. Scarlett had cinnamon rolls from the Pop In. And Leah Mae had a box of lemon squares her dad’s fiancée Betsy had made.
“Okay, Juney,” Cassidy said when we’d all settled in my living room with plates and bowls of sugar and fat. “What’s going on?”
I spooned a bite of chocolate ice cream into my mouth, not even caring that it wasn’t the right time of year for this flavor. “George and I had an argument and I left.”
My phone buzzed on the coffee table.
“That him?” Scarlett asked.
“Probably.”
“That’s all right,” Cassidy said, gesturing toward my phone like she was shooing it away. “It’s okay to take a little time to sort out your feelings before you talk to him. What did y’all argue about?”
“His bunny. And his assistant.”
“You’re going to have to elaborate a bit,” Cassidy said.
I explained the basics of our argument.
“He called her pretty?” Scarlett asked. “Oh hell no.”
