Miranda
Karev works at a local live theatre, in the box office and
occasionally on stage. She's recently gotten back with her former
boyfriend, Jeffry Stanton. They're spending the weekend, trying to
put their relationship back together, only to find themselves snowed
in at her apartment building. There are power outages around town,
though not at her building. A friend, and co-worker, Dave gives her a
call to check on her. (The characters of Miranda and Jeff are featured in So Much It Hurts.)
"Sounds
like you're having fun," I said, hearing party noises in the
background.
"Yeah,
not bad. Don't suppose you want to come over?" Dave said.
"We
can't. That's a long way on foot and our parking lot is blocked by an
eight foot wall of snow."
"Hadn't
thought of that. Well, wanted to check on you."
"Thanks,
Dave. Tell everyone I said hi. We're fine."
"We...."
He said, sounding very disappointed. "So, working out with
Jeff?"
"Yes.
I'm sorry."
"Hey,
that's life, right? Lost opportunities and broken chances. I guess
I'm gonna polish off this bottle of Cuervo and head to bed—alone."
"Ew,
Jose Cuervo is not my friend. Now, me and Jack Daniels, we're
buddies."
"Bing
drank the last of the Jack, and Bern snagged the Johnny Walker."
"No
Jim Beam?"
"Colt's
got that."
"How
long have you guys been drinking?"
"What
time is it?"
"Almost
six o'clock."
"Yeah...."
He paused so long, I thought he'd forgotten me. "I believe we
started at noon, but I could be mistaken. There was food, then there
was booze. Now I'm lying on Colt's floor staring at the ceiling
clutching a half empty bottle and talking to you."
"I
think you need to put the bottle down and pass out."
"I
think that sounds like 'n accepta-bibble option." He hiccuped
loudly. "Okay, that's it. Make the room stop spinning!"
I
heard the phone clatter. Someone picked it up and spoke into it the
wrong way around. Some fumbling and muttering followed, then I got a
better response.
"Hi.
Who's this?"
"Dave?
I was talking to Dave."
"You
can't be Dave, because he's lying here passed out and—cause,"
he burped loudly, "you're a girl."
"This
is Miranda."
"Oh,
hi, Randi. This is Bing—Bing Crosby. How're you?"
"Fine.
You can hang up now, Bing. I need to go."
"Okay."
He hung up.
©
2018 Dellani Oakes
No comments:
Post a Comment