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“You bet I’d fall off the wagon today in that pool of Colm’s, didn’t you?”
Sunnie laughed, not even bothering to feign innocence. “Day’s not over yet, and he’s got a pretty nice-size pot this year. Get a move on. Be there in an hour.”
Sunnie didn’t even bother to say goodbye or give Kelli a chance to make an excuse to get out of it. Not that she wanted to.
A girls’ night out might just do the trick.
* * *
Two hours later, Kelli was eyeballing the margaritas—the second round—in front of Darcy, Sunnie, and Yvonne, and regretting that she’d picked now to give up alcohol.
Because if she’d ever needed a drink…
Sunnie had her tablet open, going over everything one last time. “Okay, so Yvonne is making the cake, shaped like boobs, as well as the cake pops—don’t forget the nipples on those. I love the idea of adding a bowlful of Mounds to the dessert table, Darc. Nicely played. And, Kelli, you sure you don’t mind running to get the art supplies for the upcycling old bras contest.”
Kelli nodded. “I’ll make sure to have a good variety of crafty shit so people can really get creative.”
They’d spent the last hour planning a Boob Voyage party for Darcy and Sunnie’s godmother, Bubbles. Bubbles had been an “adopted” Collins since before any of them were born. According to Riley, she and Bubbles had been best friends since God was in diapers, the two of them meeting by chance in Vegas a million years ago.
Riley and Aaron had returned from Las Vegas the week after their elopement with Bubbles, a “former ho,” as she liked to say, in tow. Since starting a new life in Baltimore, Bubbles had found work as an in-home caregiver for the elderly. She’d taken countless nursing classes over the years and currently lived in a detached apartment behind Riley and Aaron’s house. She’d been a beloved member of the Collins family for years, and she was one of Kelli’s favorite people on the planet.
The woman spoke her language. She never minced words and hadn’t met a curse word she didn’t love. It was Bubbles who had added the words cuntcake and twatwaffle to Kelli’s vocabulary back when Kelli was in high school.
Bubbles was also extremely well-endowed. Like off-the-charts endowment. As such, she’d suffered with back pain for years, and a few months earlier, she’d decided it was time to reduce “the beasts,” as she like to refer to them.
And, of course, the Collins clan considered that a reason to throw a party. Riley had put Kelli, Yvonne, Darcy, and Sunnie in charge of the food and games.
Kelli had to admit they’d come up with a pretty solid menu—including nippetizers like meatballs, chicken “breast” salad, and watermelon salad. They planned to play “Pin the B-Cup on Bubbles,” as well as award a prize for the most creative upcycle redesign using Bubbles’ old bras. Sunnie also wanted to hold a contest to rename Bubbles, giving her a new, smaller-titty nickname.
The party was going to be a blast, but Kelli was struggling to work up any enthusiasm for it at the moment.
“So…now that that’s all done,” Sunnie said, turning off her tablet and twisting toward Kelli. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Kelli reared back. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been way too quiet tonight, and distracted, considering this is usually the type of thing you love.”
She should have known Sunnie would pick up on her mood. Kelli considered the three women sitting with her some of her very best friends, the four of them spending countless happy hours and girls’ nights out—like this one—together.
“There’s a,” Kelli waved her hand around, “thing going on right now and I need some advice. I kind of fucked up.”
“Oh God. You finally broke down and told Princess Principal off, didn’t you?” Yvonne said. “Are you fired?”
“No. I haven’t snapped over that…yet. Though she tests me daily.” Kelli’s principal was a hypochondriac Prima Donna with a capital P and D, who flashed red hot or ice cold, depending on which of her many medications she did or did not take each morning.
“Well, if it’s not work, than it’s sex. Who did you fuck?” Sunnie asked.
Kelli shook her head and glanced heavenward. “Why does your mind always go straight to sex?”
Sunnie tilted her head in the ultimate know-it-all pose. “Am I wrong?”
“No.”
“So I’ll ask again. Who did you fuck?”
Kelli bit her lower lip and debated whether or not she should tell them—for about zero-point-four seconds—then she blurted it out because the truth was, she really did need their advice.
“Colm.”
