Hold Me Close(83)

“I f*cking love tequila.” Effie lifted her glass to tap it against Cissy’s.

Cissy blinked. “Oh. Um...”

Shit. She shouldn’t have let the f-bomb drop. This crowd probably said goshdarnit or shucks. This crowd, Effie thought with a look around the room, probably didn’t like blow jobs. And that was just too f*cking sad.

Effie drained her glass and wisely looked for a sink to put it in. She wanted another, of course. You always wanted another one. But she wasn’t going to have one. Nope. She was going to restrain herself from making that mistake. At least that was the plan before Dee brought over the pitcher again, swirling the dregs of melted margarita in the bottom.


“Top you off?” she said to Effie. “I’m not sure I should make another pitcher. It might go to waste.”

“No more for me,” Cissy said.

Effie held out her glass. “Sure. I’ll take the last bit.”

Cissy eased away and Dee set the now-empty pitcher on the kitchen island. She pulled the decimated platter of veggies and dip toward her and plucked out a carrot stick. She dipped it directly into the bowl of dip, an action that made Effie shudder. She hadn’t eaten anything here, not even the dip she’d made herself. The drinking had gotten in the way, and by the time she thought to put something other than booze in her stomach, the chili dip had already been besmirched by chip crumbs and double dippers. Sober Effie would have forced herself to eat some, but she’d passed sober two hours ago.

“I’m really glad you came.” Dee scrunched another carrot and held out the platter to Effie.

“No, thanks.” Effie sipped her drink. “Yeah, it’s fun, thanks for inviting me.”

Dee looked past Effie into the den. A lot of the women had left half an hour or so ago, and when Effie glanced back to see what Dee was looking at, she saw a couple more putting on their coats. She laughed.

“Shit, I’m going to close this party down.” She drained the last of the drink, waiting for the brain freeze, but it had melted enough that she escaped that torture.

“Where’s Polly?”

“She’s with Heath.” Effie paused, trying to gauge Dee’s reaction. “Who is not my brother. Or her father.”

Dee laughed, but uncomfortably, with another glance over Effie’s shoulder. “I know that. I told them all that, too.”

“It’s okay.” Effie shrugged. She’d been drunker than this, but not for a long time. She put a hand on the kitchen island to make sure she wasn’t weaving. The floor beneath her felt a little tilted. Was she slurring?

From behind her, a waft of perfume announced Becky’s presence. The other woman reached past Dee to also grab a couple carrot sticks, slathering them with dip. Effie kept her lip from curling, but barely.

“I feel like I can pretend I’m eating healthy,” Becky explained with a longing look at the plate of cookies next to the vegetable tray. “But let’s face it, I’m about to murder those cookies. Wish I had your willpower, Effie.”

Effie laughed. “Trust me, there are plenty of things I can’t manage to resist.”

Several of the other women came through the kitchen, saying their goodbyes, and Dee moved off with them to walk them to the front door. Becky took a piece of celery and crunched it with a sigh. Effie tried to think of something clever to say, but all she could manage was a smile.

Dee came back. “That’s almost everyone. Beck, is Gene coming to get you?”

“Yeah. I called him. He’s on the way.”

That was Effie’s cue to leave. “I’ll get going, too.”

“You didn’t drive, did you?” Becky asked.

Effie laughed. “No, no. I walked. It’s only a couple blocks.”

“We can give you a ride home, if you want.”

“No, that’s okay. I like to walk.” Effie looked around, trying to remember where she left her coat. Dee had taken it from her when she came in, she remembered that much.

Becky snagged another carrot stick but didn’t eat it. “You’re not...scared?”

The circle of Effie’s vision narrowed, like the closing of a camera aperture. Becky’s face swam for a second. “Why would I be scared?”

“After what happened,” Becky said. “I think I’d be afraid to walk by myself anywhere.”

Effie let go of the kitchen island, no longer afraid of weaving. Her back felt as stiff and straight as if someone had replaced her spine with an iron rod. “It was a long time ago. If I was still too afraid to go by myself anywhere, I’d have a helluva time, wouldn’t I?”

“At night,” Becky amended. “In the dark, I guess.”

“He took me at three o’clock in the afternoon,” Effie said.

Dee coughed uncomfortably. “Hey, Effie, let me get your coat.”

“Sorry.” Becky looked embarrassed. “Liquor loosens the tongue. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m not offended. Better to ask me to my face than whisper behind my back.” Effie ran her tongue along the inside of her teeth, hating that leftover booze flavor. “Can I get a drink of water before I go?”

“Sure, of course.” Dee bustled to the cabinet to get her a glass, filling it from the fridge’s filtered water spout. She handed it to Effie with a glance at Becky, who’d stopped pretending to be healthy and was now eating a cookie.