Page 55 of Cackle

She shakes her head.

“Okay.”

“It’s just old.”

“Okay.”

“You believe me?”

“Yeah,” I say. “You would know, right?”

“Yes,” she says. “Of course.”

“Okay. Cool.”

“Cool.”

I give her back the bottle and pick up the cake. I take two bites in quick succession.

“Is there anything else, pet? Anything else you’d like to ask me?”

“Umm . . . not at the moment,” I say.

“You’re a very accepting person, Annie,” she says. “I appreciate that about you.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s good for me, especially considering . . . But I do worry with other people. I wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

“I wonder about how much you’ve accepted that maybe you shouldn’t have. What you may still be accepting.”

I finish the cake and slide off of the couch onto the floor. The rum has gone to my head.

I don’t feel good.

“More specifically, I mean with Sam,” she says. “You told me what he said to you, but what did you say back to him? You should have told him to fuck right off.”

“Should I have cursed him?”

She looks wounded. I’ve hurt her feelings.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “That sounded mean. It was meant to be a joke.”

She sighs and begins to examine her nails. They’re painted black. “You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

“I’m not going to curse my ex-boyfriend. Sam is fine. Everyone can be a jerk sometimes.”

“All right,” she says, “I’ll leave it alone. For tonight. I’ve put you through enough, though I did bring cake. And liquor.”

“You did.”

“Does that even things out?”

“Sure.”

She laughs. “I’m convinced!”