Two Punks In Love

Emotional Amnesia

Trace 3 Weeks Later LA

"Ooooowwww!" I complain as Ashlynn slaps my hand away from plate of intricate tiny appetizers she's assembling. One of her thousand layered jagged rings scrapes down my finger, drawing blood.

"Look what you did!" I yell at her.

"I warned you to stop! You don't even like them! You keep tasting them, making a face and spitting them into the sink!"

"Well, they all look good, but they taste weird!" I yell back.

"Get out of my kitchen!" she yells, pointing her finger imperiously.

I ignore her and thrust my bloody finger under the faucet. Leed strolls in, snags one of the colorful one-bites from the tray, munches and says. "That's fantastic, baby. What is it?"

"Apricot, blue cheese and chorizo," she smiles at him.

"You didn't slap him," I complain.

"Because he appreciates the food! You're just making more work for me!" she says gesturing to my discarded mouthfuls in the sink and her dozen prep bowls of different ingredients. "And clean my sink!"

"Oh my god, you need a personal chef," Mac declares as she walks in and stares at Ashlynn's island full of deceptively good looking snack food.

"I have someone come in twice a week and do basic prep, but I like making party food," Ashlynn says.

Bodie is right behind Mac. He picks up something green. "You turned salad into appetizers?"

"It's caesar salad crostini. Fuckin' good, man," Leed says, chomping one down. Bodie tries one, makes a sound of approval and looks over the other offerings. He takes another one...something pink and oozy on something that looks like a cracker but is probably not a cracker.

"Good," he declares.

Ashlynn smiles at him. "Salmon mousse. I made your favorite sweet and sour meatballs in the crockpot."

He grabs her, hauls her off her feet, and plants a big exaggerated kiss on her cheek. "I love you, Sunny."

While Ashlynn rights her off the shoulder sweatshirt, I glare at her. "Why didn't you say there were meatballs?"

"Because you're annoying me," she continues her meticulous assembly.

"Bodes! Bring a plate of those! These mamas need comfort food!" Adam yells from the solarium where he is reclining on a low chair, chatting with Kat and Marley.

Kat and Marley are relaxing side by side on cushions in front of the low tea table, framed in candle light. Kat's hair is up so her hoop earring are sparling against her tan skin and her lips are shiny with gloss. She's laughing at something Marley said. She looks happy.

She looks transcendent, actually.

I forget all about my bleeding finger for a minute, caught up in her smile.

"Look, she's glowing," Ashlynn murmurs.

"I can't believe she's not even sick. With twins," Mac says. "It's great, just...unbelievable."

"It's the yoga," Leed says smugly.

"Or the acupuncture," Ashlynn muses.

I snort. As soon as we all got back to LA, these two hippies lured Kat from her high powered fitness routine and got her on their program. It is true that as the weeks have gone by, she seems less stressed by the idea of twins. But it could also be that we've spent a lot of time talking things out. Everything from what her twin pregnancy means for our wedding photos to pregnancy sex to what twin delivery is like to what kind of childcare help we might need.