He held up a quarter. "Hey - heads, we're drinking Patron silver."
She tilted her head, quizzically. "That depends. What's tails?"
Edward thought for a moment. "Tails... Tails, and we're drinking the resposado, I guess."
"And that," she smiled, wrapping her arms around him, "Is why I love you."
"For my mastery of the win-win scenario?"
"Sure, let's go with that," she agreed, holding up a small grocery bag, "I may not have found Bingo, but I got limes!"
Tails. Patron Resposado. Two souvenir shot glasses from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame were produced. The cutting board took its place on the kitchen counter, along with two small bowls - one with salt, for Callista, and one with sugar, for Edward. In a skillful blur of kitchen knifesmanship, Edward turned lime number one into eight wedges.
He raised his shot. "Here's to...."
"To Bingo?" Callista suggested. "Furry little illegal pain in my ass."
"I'm sorry, but she's been nothing but trouble. Plus, she hates me."
"She doesn't hate you. She's just a ferret. Apparently, she's not ready to be BFFs, yet - with either of us. But that's not tonight's first wedge."
"No? What gets first wedge, then? Blink, blink," she actually blinked, for once.
A wry smile crept into the corners of Edwards mouth. "Happy anniversary, Callista Jane. To us..."
She checked a mental calendar, which was more easily said than done, because it was blurry. "Oh. My. God."
"You're an anniversary rememberer."
"Huh. Yeah, I guess I am. At least, I think I am. I'm pretty sure it's been one year since I used my best terrible pick-up line on you..."
"And it worked," she said, clinking shot glasses. "It totally worked. Okay. My turn. Wedge number two..."
"Whoa - no ten minutes? Straight to the next wedge?"
"Yep! Do not pass 'Go,' do not collect two hundred dollars, babe. Wedge two is for Buck. He may have been a grumpy, stinky old hobo, but I miss him."
|Buck Mope's Ghost, and The Signals at Magnolia Cut|
"To Buck Mope," Edward toasted. "We should stick with one lime, though. I gotta get back to looking for Bingo, and I need to stay sharp."
Callista nearly choked on her lime juice. "Sharp? Really? You've been in a semi-permanent state of self-medication since she disappeared."
"Is it 'semi-permanent' if I do it all the time?"
She poured the third round, then stopped and looked at Edward. "Of course it is. As long as you don't do it forever, it is semi-permanent - pretty much by definition, actually. You're fine. I'll be the first to tell you when you're not. Trust me."
"And that," he declared, holding the next shot aloft, "is why I love you. Wedge three is for Bingo. Wherever you are, little stinker, here's to you."
"To Bingo, the illegal endangered orphaned black-footed ferret! Hang in there, sweetie." Callista slammed her glass down for emphasis.
Edward poured the fourth round, took a few deep breaths, and shoved his final piece of lime into the sugar, which crunched deliciously. "So. What's wedge number four?"
"Four..." Callista cleared her throat. "Four is... To you finishing the book, so the world can know old Buck and Bingo, and love them as we have."
He shook his head and chuckled, but eventually raised his lime wedge to her glass.
"Glass?" She suggested.
"Oops. Yes. Can't clink with a lime wedge. To the book!" he toasted.
Today, I was writing in response to another Studio 30 Plus prompt, the phrase "semi-permanent state of self-medication," courtesy of Katy's fine post Just Like A Dream. Go! Read it!