Lisa
"Rosé? What are you doing here?"
She bounds up to me and throws her arms around my neck. "Surprise!" she gushes. "I'm staying for the weekend!"
I can't contain my surprise as I engulf her in a huge hug that lifts her feet off the ground. "When did you get here?"
"This morning."
"And you're just now letting me know?"
"I wanted it to be a surprise, silly. You're late, by the way," she reprimands me.
"I probably could have gotten off earlier if you'd called me," I hedge.
"Where's the fun in that?"
"Have you been waiting outside? You know where the key is, right?"
"Eh, I haven't been here long. And you know how I get all mixed up with that stupid alarm - the last time the police showed up. Besides, it's nice out today." She grins sheepishly as I let us inside. I remove my coat as she hovers in the living room, looking around. Not much has changed since the last time she was here. As if reading my mind she states, "Christ, Lisa. It wouldn't kill you to hang a picture or something. I thought for sure you'd have one up by now."
I gesture to a painting on the opposite wall, an abstract by Slazo. "I do have a picture up."
"A real picture," she emphasises. "You know - of people."
I shrug. "Have you been home yet?"
"Of course. Chitthip picked me up from the airport," she answers. "Speaking of which, you're coming to dinner tonight. She's cooking all my favourite foods!" She clasps her hands together and practically bounces on the spot at the thought of a home-cooked meal from Chitthip. I can't help but smile.
"Let me go change real quick, and we can head over there," I say, heading for the stairs. Then I remember - fuck! I need to call Irene. I hastily retrieve my phone from my pocket and make the call as I'm entering my bedroom.
"That was fast," says Irene upon answering. "Are you here?" I imagine she's looking out her window, or perhaps the door. She sounds eager.
"I'm actually not going to be able to come, Irene," I say quickly. Surprisingly, I don't regret breaking off our meeting. It's as though a huge weight as been lifted from my shoulders.
"What? How come?" She doesn't try to mask her disappointment.
"My sister just made a surprise visit. We're going to my parents' house for dinner."
"Well, what about afterward?" Her voice is needy. Irene is a sexy woman - normally I would be aroused by her eagerness, but tonight I'm impatient. If anything, it has the opposite effect.
"I don't know, Irene. We'll see. I don't know what time I'm going to be home."
"Will you call me when you're done?"
I don't bother humouring her. "I don't know. Maybe."
She whines one last time before I break off our conversation and hang up. I make quick work of changing and exit the bedroom. To my surprise, Rosé is leaning against the wall by my bedroom door, arms crossed, expression sour. She looks at me incredulously as I move to stand beside her. "That was Irene?" she instantly deadpans. I'm taken aback - was she eavesdropping?
"Yes," I answer, adjusting my collar.
"Are you dating now?"
I roll my eyes. "You know the answer to that."
"One day," she warns, "your disrespect of women is going to bite you in the ass."
I'm surprised... and slightly offended. "I'm not disrespecting her. She called me." She trails me closely as we walk back down the stairs.
"You promote the slutty behaviour, though," she goes on. Rosé has never been one to hide her feelings from me. "Just say no, Lisa."
I smirk and jokingly say, "But then I'd never get any."
"You could get it respectfully."
"Come on, Rosé," I groan. "I don't feel like having this conversation right now." We'd already had it before - the first time had been the day she mistakenly met Irene when Irene had shown up, invited, to my house while Rosé was there. Irene had introduced herself as my friend, yet Rosé made her own assumptions and was ridiculously excited for me. When she learned, shortly after Irene's departure, that Irene wouldn't be coming around again, her entire disposition soured, and her feelings about my habits turned into an hour-long argument.
I hated disappointing her, but to be quite honest, it was none of her concern. I'd rather she not even know about it, which is why I'm slightly aggravated to discover she'd heard my conversation through the door.
She huffs as she exits the house through the front door. I stall to set the alarm and lock the door behind us.
"Fine, Lisa," she eventually relents, and the subject is closed.
"You staying at home tonight?" I ask casually. It makes more sense for her to stay with Chitthip and Marco, and I haven't seen any of her belongings to indicate she plans on staying with me.
"Yes," she answers. "Want to just follow me? Or I could give you a ride back home," she offers. "I'll just follow you."
It's only a ten-minute drive to Chitthip and Marco's house. It's nearly dark outside, yet the interior of their home is lit up, inviting... just as it always is. We're assaulted by a delicious smell upon entering, and Rosé immediately cries out, "Oh my God that smells good! Hey Chitthip, I found her!"
Rosé was only six when we came to live with Chitthip and Marco. She was so distraught over the death of our mother, crying every night, that neither Chitthip nor Marco ever insisted we call them "Mom and Dad." They took us in when we had no one else, yet they never pretended to replace what we'd lost.
Chitthip comes fluttering around the corner - she's beautiful, as always, wearing heels simply to cook dinner, her hair hanging in shiny, loose waves down her back. Her face is alight with a broad smile. "Good, you guys are here! Everything is almost ready." Chitthip reaches up, grabs my face in both hands, and lands a big kiss on my cheek. "You kids mind setting the table?"
"Of course," Rosé chirps and she grabs my hand, dragging me into the kitchen to retrieve plates and silverware.
