Esm\u00e9, Rose<\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n
Thursday 12:57 PM<\/p>\n
R. Thomas<\/span>We\u2019re on our way! So excited! \ud83d\ude0d<\/p>\n Thursday 2:09 PM<\/p>\n E. E. Easton<\/span>Here, camping the baggage claim. Hope your flight was easy and the landing didn\u2019t upset you too much. Rose is bouncing off the walls so I hope you get here soon. Can\u2019t wait to see you.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n Bradley Airport, once I escape the plane, is tiny compared to SFO, and utterly unremarkable aside from the familiar olfactory assault that greets me as I head for the exit. Sure, there was better coffee to be found in California by far, but nothing quite says \u201cwelcome back to New England\u201d like the miasma of burnt coffee and pumpkin spice emanating from the Dunkin Donuts conveniently placed next to Gate 1. Aside from the still odd sight of a handful of people hurrying through in masks and the absence of the inexplicable sunglasses shop I remembered being next to the TSA checkpoint, the airport hasn\u2019t changed since the last time I flew out to visit half a decade ago.<\/p>\n I sigh. I really should call my mother, but I had scheduled this visit for friend funtimes and not family check ins, and besides I\u2019d have to explain why I left the boys and Gary back across the country\u2026 which is not a conversation I want to deal with right now. Instead I shake off the guilty pang, adjust my grip on my suitcase and abruptly turn around, heading back towards the Dunks. We have a couple of them out west, but the handful of times I went, it had felt wrong chasing my guilty pleasure caramel swirl iced with a blueberry glazed donut with palm trees in line of sight. Time to welcome myself home properly.<\/p>\n When I finally make it downstairs to baggage claim, iced coffee and white bag in hand, most of the people on my flight had come and gone, and only a few suitcases are left to march their way around the carousel, my slightly worn blue canvas cube among them. Of course, I barely have time to note that before an excited whoop catches my ear, and I turn around to see two women behind me, both grinning hard enough to be obvious behind their masks.<\/p>\n I blink. I\u2019ve seen both of them in my computer so many times at this point I\u2019ve lost count, but it is another thing seeing them in real life, in three dimensional space. The shorter one \u2014 Rose \u2014 is lovely: somewhat taller than I am (not that that\u2019s hard), all warm tawny curves under ripped black jeans and a well worn Johnny the Homicidal Maniac t-shirt, giant brown eyes and curly hair that extends out from her head to fall in aggressive ringlets down both shoulders, reflecting the same energy of Rose herself bouncing on the balls of her feet and waving excitedly.\u00a0<\/p>\n Her companion, though\u2026<\/p>\n I\u2019d had so many video calls with Esm\u00e9 over the pandemic, witnessing through my screen as she nervously stammered over telling me her new name, then watching as hormones slowly softened the face I\u2019d once known intimately into someone new yet still familiar. Somehow I still wasn’t quite prepared to see her in person. She\u2019s still fucking giant \u2014 I can\u2019t help remembering all the times I\u2019d jokingly grabbed a step stool just to look her in the eye back in the ancient history when we were together \u2014 but somehow in the last little while, the height had become less of an awkward burden, and she now carries herself with a willowy, queenly grace. The hair hasn\u2019t changed much \u2014 the pink streaks are new, and it tumbles somewhat further past her shoulders than I remember, but it still falls in thick brown waves. She probably still puts absolutely zero effort into it, something that used to infuriate me. Her eyes, still all long lashes and dark amber depths, crinkle a bit more at the corners, but the vaguely haunted expression in them that used to break my heart on a daily basis\u2026 isn\u2019t quite gone, but it\u2019s definitely offset by the deep twinkle in them.\u00a0<\/p>\n She looks more relaxed and happy than I\u2019ve ever seen her.<\/p>\n \u201cOh my god,\u201d I breathe, looking up at her. \u201cAren’t you just the most gorgeous girl on two coasts?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd that with a mask on,\u201d quips Rose, giggling.<\/p>\n Esm\u00e9 turns a rather violent shade of pink at both comments, but holds her arms out to me. \u201cNot quite sure I can pick you up and swing you like I used to,\u201d she warns in a voice that\u2019s still low, but softened to a resonant contralto by no doubt hours of practice.<\/p>\n I put my coffee down, drop my bag, and jump into her embrace despite the warning. She wobbles a little with surprise, but then her arms lock around me, tight and sure. Still way stronger than she looks. \u201cSee, you still got it,\u201d I giggle.\u00a0<\/p>\n Esm\u00e9 puts me down, and I turn back to Rose. \u201cMs. Thomas.\u201d<\/p>\n Rose giggles. \u201cMrs. Randall,\u201d she answers in kind.<\/p>\n I wince a little inwardly, but manage to cover it. \u201cIt\u2019s great to finally meet you in person.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI know right? Stupid panopticon.\u201d She steps towards me. \u201cI\u2019m assuming a hug is okay?\u201d<\/p>\n I nod, and she folds me into an embrace that feels like hugging a warm sunbeam. \u201cWelcome back to the land of puritanical liberalism,\u201d she says cheerily. \u201cGrab your bag and let\u2019s get out of here. I think there\u2019s a cat hair in my mask and it\u2019s driving me bonkers<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n I laugh, and grab my case off the carousel, pivoting fluidly towards the door as I drag it behind me, noting that Esm\u00e9 has picked up my coffee and Dunks bag. \u201cRelatable complaint,\u201d I say, heading for the terminal exit.<\/p>\n Rose groans and claws her mask off as soon as we get outside, sniffling and inspecting the inside of it with a wryly annoyed twist to her mouth. \u201cI love them dearly, but wow do they get hair everywhere. These are supposed to be black jeans.\u201d<\/p>\n I grin; the jeans in question are certainly not haired up enough to change their base color, but a fair amount of fuzz clings to them nonetheless. \u201cCats, plural? I\u2019ve only seen the fuzzy orange one on camera.\u201d<\/p>\n Rose frowns a little then her eyes go wide. \u201cOh no,\u201d she whispers before bursting into giggles.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat did I say?\u201d<\/p>\n Esm\u00e9 also de-masks, revealing one corner of her mouth has kicked up and the corresponding dimple is on full display. \u201cBoth cats are fluffy and orange and incredibly hard to tell apart.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOhhhh,\u201d I breathe. \u201cMy bad, I just always assumed there was only one. Considering you always refer to whatever cat onscreen as Captain fluffbutt or jackass.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cTo be fair, I can tell them apart and I can confirm it truly does not matter.\u201d Rose grins. \u201cBut yeah, there are two of them. Pinky and the Brain. I apologize for them in advance; They\u2019re very cute, but they\u2019re assholes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSo\u2026 cats?\u201d I snort.<\/p>\n Rose tilts her head at me, then glances up at Esm\u00e9 with a raised eyebrow. Esm\u00e9 just grins back down at her. I inhale sharply, recognizing the deep dimples in both her cheeks, realizing that I had missed them. \u201cWhat?\u201d I ask, curious about the little glanced exchange between them.<\/p>\n Rose shakes her head as she hustles across the street to the short term parking garage, us following closely behind her. \u201cNothing,\u201d she says on the other side. \u201cThat\u2019s usually what Esm\u00e9 says whenever I describe anything the cats do that\u2019s annoying.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAh.\u201d I glance up at Esm\u00e9. \u201cDid you ever tell her about Crowley?\u201d<\/p>\n She winces, no doubt remembering that time the bearer of that name sent her to Urgent Care. \u201cUgh. Is that hellbeast still around?\u201d<\/p>\n I chuckle. \u201cYeah, he refuses to die.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI take it Crowley is Saoirse\u2019s furry asshole?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThought you weren’t supposed to mention someone’s asshole until the second date,\u201d Esm\u00e9 says, earning herself a dramatic eye roll.<\/p>\n I scoot to the side, out of the way of passing cars, and pull my phone from my pocket, holding it out for Rose. The lock screen is graced by a black cloud of fur with a surly expression in his yellow eyes. \u201cThis is the beast that gouged Esm\u00e9 so badly she needed two stitches.\u201d<\/p>\n Rose smiles at the picture and glances sidelong at Esm\u00e9 as she packs both my suitcase and backpack into her trunk. \u201cDid I miss a scar?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEhhh you can\u2019t really see it anymore.\u201d Esm\u00e9 flushes a little. \u201cBesides, I don\u2019t think you\u2019ve ever taken a close look at my ankles.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFair enough. How old is the hellbeast in question?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWe don\u2019t really know. Last estimate we had from the vet, pushing 20.\u201d<\/p>\n Rose whistles as she shuts the trunk. \u201cRefuses to die indeed.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHe\u2019s mellowed out in his old age,\u201d I chuckle. \u201cIt’s been years since he\u2019s bitten anybody.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow wonderful for him,\u201d Esm\u00e9 grumbles.<\/p>\n I shrug. \u201cIf you want to bite anyone, teeth are kind of required.\u201d<\/p>\n Rose shakes her head with a grin. \u201cYou hungry?\u201d she asks me. \u201cPlenty of places between here and home we could stop on the way. Most of \u2018em have outdoor seating.\u201d<\/p>\n I close my eyes, thankful for the consideration. Too many fights of late had been over Gary\u2019s vehement disdain for any pandemic protocol that inconvenienced him, which was literally all of them. \u201cI\u2019m good,\u201d I say, waving the Dunkin bag at her. \u201cThis\u2019ll tide me over until later.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAll right.\u201d She shifts her gaze to Esm\u00e9. \u201cI\u2019m driving this leg too,\u201d she says, firmly.<\/p>\n Esm\u00e9\u2019s mouth twists a little but she nods and switches over to the passenger side of the car with no argument, while Rose and I get in from the other side. \u201cConnecticut and you still aren\u2019t friends, huh?\u201d I observe, buckling myself in next to a somewhat faded teddy bear nestled into the center of the seat.<\/p>\n \u201cNot even a little bit,\u201d Rose answers as she smoothly backs the car out of the space and turns around.<\/p>\n Esm\u00e9 looks exasperated but amused. \u201cNot allowed to drive when both of us are in the car anymore,\u201d she notes.<\/p>\n Rose flips down her rearview mirror and catches my eye. \u201cWas the road rage strong with this one when y\u2019all were dating, cause\u2026\u201d Her eyes widen, and she briefly makes a noise with her teeth that sounds like an aggressively annoyed cartoon kiss.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not that <\/i>bad,\u201d Esm\u00e9 protests.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, you are,\u201d Rose and I simultaneously retort in the same tone of voice before we both explode into laughter.\u00a0<\/p>\n Esm\u00e9 deflates a bit in her seat, the edge of her lower lip catching in her teeth. \u201cHere less than five minutes and you\u2019re ganging up on me already?\u201d she groans. The side of her face I can see from the back seat has a deep dimple visible, though, so I know she isn\u2019t actually mad.<\/p>\n \u201cI mean, we could turn around and I can get back on the plane if it\u2019s too much?\u201d I tease.<\/p>\n \u201cNot allowed. Been waiting three years to meet your ass, you don\u2019t get to go home until I buy you dinner and get thoroughly sloshed with you,\u201d Rose laughs as she merges onto I-91, glancing behind her to check her blind spot before gunning the motor. The car obediently zooms forward.\u00a0<\/p>\n Esm\u00e9 had mentioned Rose’s lead foot at some point. I\u2019d thought she was exaggerating at the time, but Rose quickly proves otherwise as we begin whipping <\/i>past other cars.\u00a0I am suddenly very thankful I can\u2019t see the speedometer around the seat.<\/p>\n \u201cSweetie,\u201d Esm\u00e9 murmurs, unable to keep the amused note out of her voice. \u201cDrive the speed limit, not the highway designation.\u201d<\/p>\n Somehow as fast as Rose is going, a bright blue Dodge Charger roars into the lane to our right, rockets past us, and crosses back into the lane in front of us, rapidly disappearing into the traffic ahead. Rose takes one hand off the wheel to make an emphatic \u201cwhy?\u201d gesture at the vanishing muscle car. \u201cI’m fine. I\u2019m clearly not the fastest one on the road.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cEhh, you could still slow down a bit.”\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cUgh, fine.\u201d Rose slips back into the center lane, blinker ticking, and I feel the car slow and downshift. Still hustling for sure, but no longer in danger of breaking the sound barrier.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cThank you.\u201d Esm\u00e9 shakes her head. \u201cDon\u2019t understand how you speed like this and have never gotten a ticket.\u201d<\/p>\n Rose snorts. \u201cMaybe it\u2019s because I don\u2019t drive up other people\u2019s tailpipes when I do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI do not\u2014<\/i>\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes, you do,\u201d Rose and I say, again simultaneously.<\/p>\n Esm\u00e9 sinks a couple inches further down in her seat. \u201cIt\u2019s just gonna be like this all week, isn\u2019t it.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThis is why most people don\u2019t let their ex and their current become friends,\u201d I say, playfully poking Esm\u00e9\u2019s shoulder.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cAnd exactly why most people should<\/i>,\u201d Rose adds. \u201cWho better to tag team roasting you when you need it?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I probably wouldn\u2019t put it like that.\u201d I laugh, feeling myself blushing a little.\u00a0<\/p>\n \u201cRose would,\u201d Esm\u00e9 says. \u201cBest get used to that. There\u2019s nothing this woman can\u2019t make sound weirdly sexual if she tries.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOne of my many marketable skills,\u201d Rose acknowledges without a shred of shame. She flips the mirror down again and treats me to a saucy wink. \u201cI can stop if it\u2019s too much though.”<\/p>\n \u201cNah, it\u2019s fine,\u201d I smile back. \u201cRound the clock tween and talent management generally doesn\u2019t allow for the fun <\/i>kind of raunchy, so it\u2019s actually kinda refreshing.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cFun raunchy, it is!\u201d Rose crows. \u201cHey Siri, play \u2018The Bad Touch\u2019 by the Bloodhound Gang.\u201d<\/p>\n Esm\u00e9 sighs. \u201cFucking hell, Rose,\u201d she murmurs as the song thumps loudly out of the speakers, shaking her head as Rose bounces in the driver\u2019s seat, singing along. By the third chorus, we\u2019ve joined her.\u00a0<\/p>\n This week was going to be fun<\/i>.<\/p>\n\n\n
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