My Sweet Annie

33

"Oh, thanks. I brought my own toothbrush this time," Ana said as I emerged from the kitchen carrying the wine bottle, her backpack over my shoulder. "And a change of clothes."

"Somebody was expecting to stay over." I slipped her bag off my shoulder and put it onto the table, pushing it toward her. Then I poured, filling her mug. "Have as much as you want. I have another bottle."

"We might need it after tonight." Ana picked up her mug, watching as I emptied the bottle into my own. "You okay?"

"As okay as I can be. I'm just tired."

"Then let's settle down for the night."

"I'm going to get you some sheets," I said. "You can sleep in Tim's old room instead of on the couch. It'll be way more comfortable."

"Aww, Tabitha. That's really nice of you."

"It'll just be a sec." I headed to the linen closet in the bathroom, where I found a set of floral sheets neatly folded and tucked into one of its pillow cases. I rejoined Ana in the dining room, where she had crouched down to lavish Porkie with affection.

"We're going upstairs," she said. "Yes, we are. You gonna make it? Do you think you can?"

Porkie blinked at her with her shiny bug eyes, her tail wagging. Ana laughed and scooped the dog up into her arms. Porkie was not the world's biggest fan of being picked up, so she wiggled and squirmed in Ana's arms.

"I'll get your wine," I said. "Are you sure you've got her?"

"Oh, I've got her." Ana planted a kiss on Porkie's forehead, ignoring her struggling as she headed to the stairs. She started up, holding the dog securely, and I came behind, a mug in either hand and the sheets under my arm. When we made it safely to the top, Ana put Porkie down, and the dog snorted and trotted off down the hallway toward my bedroom.

"Are you going to go right to sleep?" Ana asked.

"I don't know, it's a little early yet. Do you want to watch more Hell's Kitchen?"

"We might get to see who makes it to the end."

I stopped at Tim's room and tossed the sheets onto the mattress. We could make the bed later, when Ana was ready to turn in. Then we headed into my bedroom. I toed off my shoes just inside the door. Ana followed suit and then strode to the bed, taking another sip of wine and grabbing the blue unicorn plushie she liked down off of the shelf on the way.

I turned on the bedside lamp and turned off the overhead light. We settled in for some T.V., first helping Porkie up onto the bed so she didn't complain, then propping pillows against the wall and resting my iPad, held up on its keyboard, on the bed between us. After a while, we pulled up the quilt to warm our feet, and then our legs. An episode in, we had both finished our wine and I set the glasses on the nightstand.

"He's so mean," Ana murmured, smothering a yawn. We had slowly collapsed, curled up with our heads near to one another on the same pillow. I could smell her shampoo.

"It's kind of his thing. That, and being an incredible chef."

"And handsome. And British."

"You think he's handsome?" I tilted my head, my cheek smushed against the pillow, looking at her.

"Of course. You don't?"

I considered it, but wrinkled my nose. "No, I don't think so."

"Hmm." She lifted her hand, tapping the screen so that the show would pause, freezing on a still of Gordon Ramsay shouting about scallops. Her hand fell to rest on the bed between us. "Men aren't my type, but I still think he's handsome. It's the hair."

"He does have good hair." I stared at Ana's hand, at her fingers lightly curled, her unpainted nails, her skin highlighted gold from the bedside lamp.

"I've thought about getting mine cut," Ana said.

"Your hair? What, like his?"

"No, but just shorter. Maybe like yours. A flirty little bob."

I shifted, bringing myself up onto an elbow to look at her. After a moment's hesitation, I reached with my free hand, lightly brushing a lock of her long, black hair. She was wearing it loose that day. "But yours is so pretty."

Ana smiled at me. "Thanks." She looked so sleepy. She must have been one of those people who could have a glass or two of wine and just conk out. The way she had curled up on the bed, now nestled underneath my quilt, was adorable.

I drew my hand back, but she lifted hers and caught my fingers gently, pulling them back toward her. "Do it again? Please?"

My stomach tightened with anxiety, but I brushed my fingertips along her hair again, lightly pushing it back from her face. She closed her eyes, her smile softening, and let out a sigh that became a yawn. For a moment, I stroked her hair, just watching her relax, and the way my heart just melted...

It couldn't have been worse timing. It simply couldn't have been worse timing, but I really liked this girl.

"I should go to bed," Ana murmured. "I'm about to fall asleep."

"I don't mind."

She opened her eyes, and though they were heavy-lidded with sleepiness, she was watchful. "Really?"

Doubt nagged at me, but I pushed it away. This could be friendly. I could keep a level head. "Really. I'll make up the bed for you, if you want, but you look really comfortable."

A smile twitched at her lips. She closed my iPad and pushed it toward me. I took the cue and put it aside, then slid down further under the covers. We rearranged ourselves, moving the pillows to the head of the bed and settling down. Porkie, jostled by our movements, looked at us grumpily until we had settled, then went through the hard work of choosing a new place for herself, tucked between Ana's feet.

Ana and I lay facing one another. We met one another's eyes, smiles rising to our lips. I felt her fingers brush my knuckles underneath the quilt and opened my hand to hers. Our fingers curled loosely together.

I didn't turn off the lamp. She didn't ask me to.

She was the first to fall asleep. I lay there listening to the sound of her soft, steady breathing for a long time.