Jennie
"Hush." Lisa chastises, which only makes me snort louder, so I bury my face in her chest to stifle the sound.
Gently, she lowers me back to my feet. I balance myself with my hand on her chest. She's all muscle underneath the softness of her shirt.
"I'm going to make you some tea." she says.
That does, actually, sound amazing.
"You're terribly good at this." I observe out loud.
"Putting drunk girls to bed?"
"Taking care of people."
She gives me a curt look. "Don't move."
"So bossy." I yawn.
Lisa vanishes into the subdued shadows of the house, into the kitchen. I can hear her quietly moving around, opening and closing drawers to find what she needs.
I find myself drawn to the large window in the living room. Moonlight spills through the rounded arch, illuminating the owl-shaped clock, the cabinet with retro holiday-inspired collecting plates, and the stuffed fox curled up in a napping ball in the corner. I give the fox a scratch between the ears (he's a very good boy) and peek out the window.
I have the perfect view of the barn from here. In the dark, it looks even more spooky. The whole thing is filled with shadows and foreboding.
I frown. No wonder Mina and Bambam are having pre-marital troubles. They can't envision it! Is this dump of a barn where they're supposed to start their new lives together?
I think about the yards of twinkling lights we picked up from the thrift store. If I just wound it around the railing of the balcony, it would bring the whole thing to life. Dead-in-the-water becomes rustic-chic. It's the small touches... a little flair of life.
I smile as the image comes to me: Mina and Bambam waking up, walking downstairs, and seeing their barn, lit up like a Christmas tree. Their Hallmark moment. What's not to love about that?
"Lisa!" I call out, half-hushed. "I'll be right back!"
No response. Probably didn't hear me? No matter, it'll only take a second.
I slip out the front door and quietly close the door behind me.
There's a little chill in the air that I didn't remember being there, and I immediately wish I had Lisa's jacket.
No time for simple worries like weather. I make my way through the overgrown lawn and cross to the barn. The grass is wet with night-time dew. The door is already slotted open, and I slip inside. It's dark in here, with only a warm glow coming from the main house, so I take out my cell phone and use the light as a flashlight.
No living things in here, but it still smells musty, like farm animal. The inside is mostly empty, the ground littered with straw, and there's a line of horse stalls beside me. Our decorations lean against the wall like little pointed tombstones, RIP.
I dig around the pile before I find what I'm looking for; piled up in a repurposed wheelbarrow sits my long string of lights. It's in a neat twine, so I loop it around my shoulder. There's a rickety staircase that leads to the hayloft, no bannister, and I know I'm asking for trouble, what with not being the most sober I've ever been, but whatever. I'm a woman on a mission! I carry the roll of lights up the stairs.
It doesn't look like the loft has been used for anything but storage in a while, straw litters the ground, and there's a few large boxes and bags of feed in the corner. I have to nudge a box to the side to access the wall outlet and plug in the lights. Immediately, they come to life and cast a honeyed glow on the room.
My heart lifts. It's already magical. This is going to be perfect.
I unfurl the string and walk out onto the narrow balcony. It's short, barely room for two or three people here, and I immediately set to work. I wind the lights around the wooden railing, looping circles from one end to the other.
The work is tedious, but it feels good. It feels good to be actively doing something to pull it all together. With each loop, it feels like I'm slowly, meticulously stitching the couple back together.
Sometimes, people just need a little reminder. A little nudge in the direction of true love.
I feel like a fairy Godmother, sprinkling her magic around in the middle of the night.
"And that..." I murmur to myself as I make the last loop, "... is how we get it done."
And then I hear a crack and my feet go out from under me.
