"Yknow, I feel like I say this every week- but I really love craft nights,"
Grace sat across the coffee table from me working on a puzzle, her arms almost as thin as the straps on her raggedy little tank top.
"You think that makes us old biddies?"
Without looking up from her pieces she wheezed out.
"Well I dunno Delores, we're not eating dinner at 4pm yet,"
"Hrm, you got me there Edna, how ya pooping these days?"
The laughter had been easy between us ever since first year in school. I'd missed her when she had to drop out to work, but with rents rising in the city we were soon reunited thanks to a mutual friend with a lease.
Oh I should add, I'm actually Anne- not Delores. That was a joke. Delores and Edna, the geriatric nicknames our other roommate Brenda had given us on account of our quiet homebody nature. Bren was always out on the weekends, living it up true to our age group (24yo) and casually chastising the two of us for staying in all the time.
Truth was, crowds always freaked me out and I hated going to stuff like concerts and clubs because of how frequent I'd get groped. I'd once tried a dodgeball league to chase after some guy I knew, but holy crap it got too competitive. That was the extent of my social appetite.
Grace had always been an introvert, snarky but soft. She kept finding herself with joint pain, and having her knee lock up- and was never listened to when we had all the group activity stuff back in school. So rather than be the constant drag on things Grace quietly started to fade off. It was always my suspicion that the social difficulties were the real reason she dropped out of college, I mean- money was hard too but...
**wistful moment of reflection***
But man I missed her. It never bothered me to hang back with her or find a place to have a tea while Brenda was searching out the next hotspot with everyone, else.
So it just became common for us two "old ladies" to stay home doing crafty things (I liked needlepoint) on Saturday night while our friends partied it up and went wild.
Though if I'm being honest, something kinda wild happened a few weeks ago here at the house. Like when I think about it in hindsight.
Which I was finding myself doing a lot ever since.
Grace was having issues with her knee again, and had her hip start to act up. So she grimly slid her puzzle in the box and announced she was going to lay down and read. Me, ever the needy little house cat said I'd tag along (note, we actually have a housecat. His name is Mister Jims and he is delightful).
So we're laying in Grace's bed -head to feet on opposite sides- when we hear Brenda come with someone. So I get up quickly to pssp-pssp Mister Jims inside so we can close the door, then jump back into my book.
But as Grace and I are doing our own thing, we can hear Brenda and some man making chit chat in the hall. The door to her bedroom then slams, and suddenly we hear another woman's laugh.
