After a show one night, Stevie found herself still full of energy despite the long performance. Instead of heading straight to bed, she decided she wanted to unwind with some company. So, she invited her closest friends—Sharon, Lori, and Christine—to her hotel room for a bit of late-night hanging out. They all agreed, excited to keep the night going just a little longer. As they chatted, Stevie glanced at her assistant, Karen, who was packing up a few things near the door, clearly getting ready to head back to her own room. Feeling bad for leaving her out, Stevie called over, "Karen, why don't you join us?"
Karen hesitated for a second but then nodded. "Sure, why not?"
Once everyone was settled in Stevie's room, lounging on the bed and chairs, Sharon suddenly clapped her hands together with an idea. "How about we play Twenty Anonymous Questions?"
Christine raised an eyebrow. "That's just Twenty Questions."
"Not quite," Sharon said with a grin. "Instead of one person asking all the questions, we each write out five questions, fold them up, and throw them into a hat. Then we take turns pulling a question at random, read it out loud, and everyone—except the person who drew the question—has to answer."
The group exchanged glances before nodding in agreement. Stevie grabbed a wide-brimmed hat from her suitcase, and everyone got to work scribbling down their questions on scraps of paper. Once all the questions were in, they began playing, each taking turns drawing a slip of paper and posing the question to the group.
After a few rounds of lighthearted and humorous questions, Lori reached into the hat and pulled out a slip of paper. Unfolding it, she read, "A time when you had to act older than what you were," before pausing to read the parentheses. "And how old were you when this happened?"
Sharon was the first to go. "I was 17," she said with a mischievous grin. "I performed at a bar and lied, told them I was 21. They believed me because I looked older, and I got in without any issues."
Stevie went next, laughing at Sharon's story. "I was 13 when my mom took me to visit my aunt in the hospital. You had to be at least 16 to go in, so my mom just told me to say I was 16. I did, and no one questioned it."
Karen was next. She exhaled, leaning back slightly. "I was 13, too," she started. "My dad was away on a business trip, and my mom worked at a diner. Sometimes, she had to work nights, and when she did, she always told me and my sister, Kellie, not to open the door for anyone—unless it was our grandma. We agreed.
"But one night, I woke up to a noise. It turned out to be Kellie—she was throwing up. She must've brought a bug home from school. I made her sleep in my bed so I could keep an eye on her. The next morning, just as my mom got home from her shift, I was already up grabbing orange juice. She saw me and asked what I was doing awake so early. I told her about Kellie and then asked if I could stay home from school to take care of her so Mom could sleep. She hesitated but eventually agreed.
"That afternoon, my mom went to check on Kellie and sat with her for a while, bringing her soup. What she didn't realize was that Kellie wasn't just sick—she was asymptomatic at first. Later that evening, I noticed Kellie scratching her arm over and over. When I checked, she had red spots all over—chicken pox.
"One thing led to another, and before we knew it, both Kellie and my mom were bedridden with chicken pox. I, ironically, was immune because I'd already had them. Kellie had it mild, but my mom? She had it bad. Her entire back was covered, to the point you could barely see her skin color anymore. Not to mention, she had them on the bottoms of her feet, with two individual spots on her big toes.
"One afternoon, I walked into the room and caught my mom scratching at her arms, so I did the only thing I could think of—I put tape on her fingers so she couldn't scratch."
The group burst into laughter. "Wait, wait," Lori interjected. "Did it work?"
Karen smirked. "For a while. But then I caught her scratching her foot with the other foot. So, I taped her individual toes too."
Everyone roared with laughter, imagining Karen's poor mother with her taped-up fingers and toes, utterly defenseless against the itch.
Christine chuckled. "That's some hardcore dedication, Karen."
Lori grinned. "Your poor mom. But honestly? That's impressive. You really stepped up."
Karen shrugged, smiling at the memory. "She took longer to recover than Kellie, but eventually, she got better. After a week, she was back to work, and Kellie and I were back to school."
They continued playing for a while longer, laughing and sharing stories until Stevie finally yawned and stretched. "Alright, alright," she said, waving a hand. "I love you all, but get out. I need my beauty sleep."
Groaning and laughing, everyone got up, gathering their things. As they left, Karen lingered for a second, glancing at Stevie.
Stevie smirked. "What?"
"Nothing," Karen said, shaking her head with a small smile.
As Stevie climbed into bed, she couldn't help but smile to herself. Tonight, she had seen a whole new side of her assistant—one that was nurturing, responsible, and deeply caring. It was a side of Karen she hadn't known before, and for some reason, it made her appreciate her even more.
With that thought, Stevie drifted off to sleep, feeling unexpectedly content.
