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“Why do you say that?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I get the feeling a lot more vodka and soap operas would be happening if I weren’t home looking for a job, too.”
“That must be frustrating.”
“It’s not the worst. There are good things about it.”
“Oh?” I sunk my foot on the break and came to a gentle stop at the light.
“Yeah. Like she knows how to have a good time and keep things light so I don’t get all moody and despondent.”
I laughed. “Despondent?! You?! Despondent?!”
“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not all sunshine and cotton candy all the time.”
I unlocked the car doors so they made a loud crunching sound. “Get out. Get out right now.”
“I’m being serious.”
“I know you are, Luce. I’m just teasing you. Of course you get down. Everybody does.”
“I suppose.”
“But I’m still convinced that you’re made entirely of sunshine and gummy bears.”
She shook her head.
“I’ve tasted you enough times to know.”
“That’s what I taste like, is it?”
“That and one more thing.”
“What?”
“Ya know when you get chocolate chip pancakes at Smith’s Brothers and you always ask for an extra bowl of that white stuff?”
“Powdered sugar?”
“Yeah, that. You taste like that.”
“Well, I guess Fiona’s not the only person I’m annoyed with then.”
“What? What did I say?”
“You’re obviously smoking some kind of wacky crack and you haven’t even offered me a puff.”
I laughed.
“Is it a puff of crack?” she asked. “Is that right? Or is it a drag? A huff?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh yes you do. You’ve blown your cover with your ridiculous claim that I taste like powdered sugar. Now I know you’ve got something good, and I demand that you tell me what it is.”
I smiled.
“Come on. Spill it.”
