A local woman missing- Mary Kubica

I’m the only one who doesn’t have to work in the morning. I say to
Josh, “Why don’t you give Kate a ride home. Check on Delilah. Get
her back to bed. I’ll stay with Bea for one more drink.”
“You don’t mind?” Kate is grateful.
“I don’t mind.” She hugs me.
Josh’s lips press against my ear. His words tingle down to my
toes. “Wake me up when you get home. If you know what I mean.”
He draws back, eyes on mine.
I taste the beer on his lips when he kisses me. I watch Kate and
Josh leave, weaving their way through the crowds. Bea takes me by
the hand. We’re dancing. It’s easy to see why Kate is so enamored
with Bea.
The music, the alcohol, have a narcotic effect on me. The
bartender has been generous with his vodka tonight. “You’re a good
friend for staying with me.”
“It’s not every day you turn thirty.”
There’s a slowness to my words. I feel giddy, euphoric.
We dance some more. The brown-haired man is there. He wants
to dance with me. Bea tells him to get lost. We fold ourselves in half,
laughing. I laugh so hard my stomach hurts.
Back at the table, the waiter delivers more drinks. The bill comes.
Someone pays.
Bea and I are walking toward the parking garage. Neither of us
should be driving after all we’ve had to drink. But I can’t call Josh to
come and get us because then he’d have to wake the kids. Bea
won’t call Kate because Kate has to work in the morning.
“Look at that,” Bea says, pointing upward. The streets of town are
tricked out with a million tiny white lights, like stars.
There’s a nip in the night air. Bea clings to me.
We’re riding the elevator up. It’s slow and creaky. There are soda
cans in the corner of it. The floor is sticky. The doors open. We step
out and look for Bea’s car. It’s not there. She starts to laugh. “What is
it?” I ask.
We’re on the wrong floor. It seems hysterically funny. We’re both
folded over again in laughter. We get back in the elevator and ride
down this time. The doors open and there is Bea’s car.