‘I notice your sister isn’t here,’ said Oswald. He sipped his drink, then dabbed his moustache with his handkerchief.
Bonnie snorted. ‘It takes a lot of arm-twisting to get her in here. And it’s Pink Wednesday, so there’s absolutely no way she’s making an appearance tonight. Tessa does have a good record of dragging her along for Trivia Night, though.’
‘Tessa. Ah, the girl with the cat statue. Not a friend of the store, I must say.’
‘Oh?’ Bonnie was curious. She couldn’t imagine Tessa doinganything that might put her on Uncle Oswald’s bad side. She was a nerdy type, like Effie, but without the spikiness.
‘Are we doing this, Oswald?’ Bowow had barrelled back up, and was swinging her purse over her shoulder. ‘Let’s give my dogs some of the crystal magic.’
‘Shouldn’t you call Dr what’s-his-name?’ asked Bruce, turning back from his karaoke conversation. ‘The vet.’
‘Dr Freng,’ offered Bonnie. It was hard to forget the name when it was emblazoned on the vet clinic wall in a typeface made to look like cats and dogs.
Bruce jabbed the air with a finger. ‘That’s the one.’
‘Of course, of course,’ said Bowow. ‘But I want to try this crystal stuff. Don’t you?’
Bruce didn’t need much convincing. For as much as he pretended not to like Bowow, he was never far from her. ‘I could stretch my legs.’
‘Well, then, off we go,’ said Uncle Oswald, donning his hat and reaching for his cane. ‘I hope it’s a monumental night for you. Drink up. Drink up!’ he called across the room.
A subdued cheer went up as people toasted with their purple drinks.
‘Just as long as Bruce makes it back for karaoke,’ called Bonnie, as the trio loped off out the door.
Bonnie barely had a moment to feel relief at Uncle Oswald’s departure, for just then Hannah, Alana and Kirsty sauntered in, all dressed in multicoloured outfits that did not include a hint of pink. Bonnie gestured at her own pink outfit, confused. Had their tradition withered like the succulent she’d purchased a few months back from The Winged Monkey, determined to keep something other than herself alive? She could barely look Tilda Harvey, the plant lady who stocked the plant wall, in the eye. Especially now that she knew how robust Effie’s pothos was.
‘On Wednesdays we wear pink?’ she reminded her friends, her tone a touch quizzical. This had been a tradition of theirsfor years, ever since they’d watchedMean Girlsduring a sleepover at Hannah’s and had decided that the group dynamics of Regina and her entourage were thoroughly aspirational.
Alana’s eyes widened. ‘But Kirsty said—’
Kirsty jabbed her with an elbow, giving her a warning look.
Hannah glanced down at her fiery red ensemble and blinked thoughtfully. ‘Well, red isclose. In the right light it’s practically pink.’
Bonnie folded her arms as she regarded the other outfits. ‘But denim and daffodil yellow are not, by any stretch of the imagination.’
‘Sorry,’ whispered Alana.
Smirking, Kirsty toyed with the buttercup sleeve of her shirt. ‘Look, traditions don’t have to last for ever. Just because we’ve done something a certain way for however long doesn’t mean we’re obligated to keep doing it. Like when my dad decided he was just going to do brisket for Thanksgiving instead of turkey. Grandma came around in the end.’
Ah, thought Bonnie. Kirsty had done the cicada thing where she’d emerged from underground after seventeen years and then eaten every other cicada in sight. Bonnie wasn’t sure that cicadas did this, but it seemed right. And Effie wasn’t around to ask.
Kirsty regarded one of Uncle Oswald’s coasters, then turned her attention back to Bonnie. ‘Anyway, no one’s going to stop you from wearing pink. Even if that particular tone washes you out just a little. Maybe you can keep repping the pink for us.’
‘Sure,’ said Bonnie uncertainly. She suddenly felt very off-kilter in her pink baby-doll dress, the one with the frilled skirt that ordinarily made her feel like a sexy birthday cake.
‘Besides, I’m seeing Bobby later,’ added Kirsty triumphantly. ‘And pink’s not really the vibe I’m going for.’
Bonnie swallowed. Kirsty’s words had hit her right in the stomach, with an impact that surprised her. Hannah and Alana had made some evasive remarks about Kirsty and Bobby, and Bonnie had obviously noticed Kirsty’s car in her neighbour’s driveway, even though she’d pretended she hadn’t.
But thinking about her friend and her neighbour together, actually together, made her realize just how much she missed having Bobby around, and how much a part of her life he truly was.
‘Babe, could we get a pitcher of the Memory Lane?’ asked Hannah, pointing at the purplish cocktail that Bonnie had snapped a Polaroid of and stuck to the menu wall as the Drink of the Evening. ‘It looks so good.’
‘It really is, though,’ agreed Kirsty. She leaned in, confessing: ‘I snuck some the other day when you weren’t looking. The day you asked me to take Bobby home.’ She said this last part with a smirk that seemed to carry a challenge with it.
So thathadbeen Kirsty’s lipstick on the brass mug. But she’d seemed fine that day, unlike Bobby. Maybe Bonnie’s spell hadn’t backfired after all. Maybe Bobby had just been coming down with something.
