June wakes up in the middle of the night, knowing something is wrong. The problem is figuring out what.
They were halfway down the next sleeper car but his brain was still in Joey’s room, turning the thought over and over.
They had left Naomi sitting on her new leather couch, bitterly weeping, with a promise to get things sorted. A promise to try to get things sorted.
Joey pulled Vinnie into his sleeper car and slammed the door. “Come on, kid, we’ve got seconds to make this work.”
Naomi Wallace wasn’t home. Aster called Maria on the payphone at the corner, and after a few super fun minutes where Mario would write something down and then Maria would read it over the phone only for Aster to come back with a brand new question, they eventually figured out that as long as Naomi’s schedule hadn’t changed drastically since the breakup she’d be home in an hour. Thankfully, Yellow SUBmarine was across the street.
It wasn’t supposed to get this hot, this high up in the mountains. Birdie could remember her childhood, all the way back in the last millennium and she couldn’t ever remember temperatures above ninety degrees. Oh, sure, odd heat waves here and there. A couple of days, three tops. And then the winds would change and the temperatures would fall back into the upper seventies. Hot enough when you’re used to Easters and Halloweens buried in snow.
One minute she was…actually, Deanne didn’t remember what happened a minute ago. Or the minute before. Or anything before that.
Around him, the party was still going strong. Vinnie realized he had lost the concept of what time it was. Probably around ten, if he had to guess. No one seemed to be ready to pack it in. If anything, the party was getting rowdier. People were getting a little bit tipsier, talking louder, pushing into each other as the train wobbled and laughing about it. Despite it being distracting, it was also a relief. The busier the party cars were, the better chance he had to lose the guard behind him.
Sitting on a barstool, watching Aster clean up the rest of the glass and absently pulling her long hair into a braid, a part of Peggy longed to be able to go back to the day she had originally planned. A very small part. A surprisingly small part, if she let herself think about it for too long. Which she didn’t, because most of her was trying to work the problem in front of her.
Nico leaned against the doorframe in his room, yawning and wiping the sleep out of his eyes. “Who is it?” he asked, knowing damn well there was only one person in the Biddies who would pound on his door at the ass-crack of dawn.