One Last Glass to Myself

2: 2

The next afternoon, Percival came home.

He let out an exaggerated sigh. "Babe, I'm wiped out. This trip gave me a splitting headache from all the meetings."

He touched my belly, then pulled out a bag.

"I knew you were bummed about missing it. One of my coworkers actually scored some concert merch, so I grabbed it off him right away. You like it?"

I glanced inside. A commemorative concert T-shirt.

"Sure." I nodded.

Seeing how flat I was, Percival patted my cheek.

"Still down about it? Nothing we could do if we couldn't get tickets."

"Once I make it big, I'll fly that singer out here to sing for you one-on-one."

Just then the door opened, and Lottie poked her head in, grinning.

She'd always known our door code.

Dressed to the nines, she made a beeline for the couch and plopped down right next to me.

"Celeste! I came to see you!"

She pulled a tub of pink-and-green ice cream out of a dessert bag.

"Got you that ice cream that's blowing up online right now. Go on, try it!"

Guava flavor.

Percival loved guava. And I hated fruit like that, with its strange, mouth-drying tang, more than anything.

Lottie had been our friend for seven years. There was no way she didn't know.

I shook my head. "I don't want any. You have it."

Percival laughed. "You've got no idea how much of a hick she is. She won't even touch anything new like this."

"Never mind, you eat it. I'll pick her up some of those little pudding cups later. Those she likes."

Fifty-cent pudding cups.

Back in college, Percival once said he wanted to buy me ice cream.

I hated seeing him work so hard for that money, so I told him I liked the little pudding cups instead.

And just like that, I became the kind of person who only rated pudding cups.

Lottie looked at the ice cream, then at Percival, and cheerfully started eating.

Halfway through, she made a face.

"Percy, I can't finish it. I only got the big size on purpose, because I figured Celeste would want some."

"Oh, right, do you remember—" She giggled like something had just come back to her. "Graduation day, Celeste ate a whole braised pork knuckle by herself! Ha! Out of all the girls in our class, she could put it away the best."

"Nothing wrong with a good appetite. You should take a page from Celeste and put on a little weight yourself."

As he said it, Percival gave Lottie's soft, boneless arm a squeeze.

Lottie scrunched her nose, playing coy, and swirled what was left of the ice cream. "Percy, what do we do about this?"

Percival took it from her hand, scooped up a big spoonful, and shoved it into his mouth. "What else? Hand it off to me, the human trash can."

I watched him.

But he'd always said he was a germophobe.

He wouldn't touch a drink I'd already sipped. Called it dirty. Not one mouthful.

So it turned out he just found me disgusting.

"Lottie, there's a huge chunk of coconut jelly right here. Get it while it's good."

Percival scooped the coconut jelly with the same spoon he'd just used and held it out to Lottie's mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world,

and Lottie, without the slightest hesitation, closed her lips right over that spoon again.

I remembered the time I'd bought fried chicken and wanted, sweetly, to share the same piece with Percival.

In front of all our friends, he'd turned his head away in distaste, said he didn't want any, and told me to just toss whatever I couldn't finish.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I asked, "The two of you are eating one ice cream together?"