A daily fiction writing exercise — one page on the first song that plays on shuffle.
“Coffee?” asked Tilly.
“Coffee,” said Mei, handing Tilly a Starbucks Cold Brew from their fridge. Mei asked, “Rum?”
“Rum.” Tilly opened her parka to show the inside pocket, which she’d crudely sewed in herself, carrying their flask. Tilly asked, “Makeup?”
Mei opened her purse to show her makeup bag.
“Let’s go.”
A short 3 train ride later, after they’d chugged their cold brews, they were in FiDi, riding the small, wood-paneled elevator up to Tilly’s sister’s apartment. It was 6:30 — perfect.
Tilly and her sister caught up, trading stories of backhanded insults from Aunt Catherine and weird stories from Mom while Mei flirted with Tilly’s sister’s fiancee’s coworker. Tilly made nice with the fiancee for a little bit, she and Mei chatted with her sister’s friends, they ate some Christmas cookies, and then it had been fifty minutes. They said their goodbyes and hopped on the 4 train.
On the Upper East Side, they rode up a shinier, larger elevator to Mei’s mother’s party. They arrived just after 8:00, right in time for dinner. Over ham and champagne, they discussed family gossip with Mei’s extended family, Mei caught everyone up on her life and career — the new apartment with Tilly, the new job, the end of her relationship with Mo — and Tilly turned every question anyone asked her into an opportunity to compliment Mo. An hour in, after dinner, and before dessert, they said their goodbyes, grabbed their coats, left, high-fived, and took the crosstown M79 to Shahid and Maria’s apartment.
They arrived at 9:45 to greet Mei’s college friends over drinks and desserts. They heard about the corporate ones’ vacations and their new homes, they heard about the artsy ones’ new shows, and they heard about Maggie’s new husband.
“Can you believe it?” she whisper-yelled. “I’m a trophy wife. I did it.”
Gesticulating with a snickerdoodle, Mei told everyone about the showcase her organization was planning for the kids where actors from shows at the Public would perform and lead singalongs. Tilly promised everyone to get them free books from their favorite agency authors. At 10:45, they kissed their friends on the cheeks and left.
“One more,” said Mei.
“One more,” agreed Tilly.
They took the 1 train down to 42nd street and walked to the bar that Akivah, Tilly’s high school boyfriend, managed. Everyone was there — Kate, Glo, Bobby, Miguel, Linh, Camille, and Toni — sipping mulled wine from a large glass dispenser. It was 11:30. They did their secret Santa exchange. Mei got a cute notebook and a set of nice pens from Glo and gave a Baby Yoda t-shirt to Linh, Tilly got a box of nice teas from Camille and gave a set of fancy bitters to Bobby. Tilly embarrassed herself asking a little too enthusiastically about Akivah’s dating life and deflecting his questions a little too enthusiastically, and then, just before 1am, everyone started to go home.
Walking back to the subway, Mei and Tilly heard a live brass band playing in Bryant Park. On the lawn, in between the closed-for-the-night booths of the holiday market, people were dancing. They danced.
