Like a Best Friend | ✓

chapter six

Even though I was the one who couldn't keep my eyes open last night, Kitty was the one who fell asleep within ten minutes of getting into bed some time after midnight while I tossed and turned for over an hour, and now it's eight o'clock on Monday morning and I'm wide awake while she is still sleeping.

I get out of bed as carefully and quietly as I can and make my way over to the sitting area, opening one of the curtains to look out over the tree- and pool-filled courtyard. It's already a beautiful day, the sky clear and cloudless, and the early birds are taking advantage of the pool, which opens at seven a.m. every day from the start of April until the end of October. I crack a window open and lean my head against the glass, listening to the far-off sound of splashing and chatting from five hundred feet in the air. Vegas is a different beast at this time of day.

I check my socials, scrolling through Instagram for a few minutes and liking Kitty's scheduled post that went up at some point during our travels yesterday. I reply to a handful of comments on my own latest post, a much less curated picture of my reading set up from a few days back when I was under a thick blanket with a coffee in a pumpkin mug, a gingerbread candle, and a mystery book. I have a clutch of regulars, twenty or thirty people who like and comment on everything. Theirs are the names I seek out first, making sure I don't miss anything, and I'm in the middle of replying to @bobbiithebooklover when a text pops up at the top of the screen.

Cohen, M.D. – not how Kitty's mom introduces herself, by the way, but an old joke from our House-watching days. I tap on the message. Some people I don't keep waiting.

Hi Fliss,

I hope everything went well yesterday and you got to Vegas without any hassle! I'm sure you're going to have a great time. I'm also sure I don't need to say this but I know Kitty's in a pretty vulnerable place at the moment, so I just wanted to ask you to keep an eye on her, emotionally. You know her, always trying to put on a brave face. I worry she doesn't let herself feel her feelings sometimes. You probably know her better than I do at this point. Make sure she's okay, will you?

Love to you both,

Sarah x

Kitty's mom is the only person I know who texts as though she's writing an email or a greetings card. Introductions and sign offs and proper punctuation, the whole shebang. She's also the only sixty-something woman I know who's able to text with two thumbs instead of one index finger.

hey sarah! I text back, everything went great yesterday! smooth flight & the hotel is incredible, and we made it to the bellagio fountains last night, so glad kitty dragged me out past my bedtime!! ofc i'll keep an eye on her, dont worry, im on call to handle any and all emotional crises.

Sarah reacts to the message with a heart. Texting her is easy. She's so busy at the hospital, she doesn't have time for much extraneous conversation, catching a couple minutes between meetings. For all the time she spent training to get her medical degree, these days there's very little practicing of medicine and a hell of a lot of administration.

I don't notice Kitty's up until she leans over me and says, "Who you texting?" in a sing-song voice. I jump a fucking mile.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!"

"You sure about that? I smell no poop."

I roll my eyes at her and lock my phone. "Just your mom," I say, answering her question. "She was checking in, seeing how everything went yesterday."

Kitty throws herself onto the second couch – yes, this suite really has two entire couches – and says, "Did you tell her you freaked out on the plane?"