Elly felt her skin buzz with excitement. She was going to be on television! In all the nervousness to meet her celebrity (who turned out to be Lola Plumb, she still couldn’t believe it!), she had let herself forget just how lucky she was. This was going to be a defining moment in her career, she just knew it.
A cloud of cloying perfume enveloped her. Snarky Teenager had pranced up beside her and was staring at Lola Plumb with vacant, worshipping eyes. Gemma gave a low growl.
“Hi, I, um….” Elly looked over at her with amusement. It wasn’t often that she saw Snarky Teenager unhinged. She took a deep breath. “I…. Ohmygosh-I-am-your-biggest-fan-I’ve-seen-all-your-movies-and-I-think-you-are-amazing-and-I-am-wearing-your-perfume-right-now!” She took a deep breath. So that’s what the stink was. Desperate by Lola Plumb.
Lola slipped her sunglasses over her face. “Thank you. That means so much.”
Gemma gestured to the door. “The limo is waiting for you.”
Elly waved. “I can’t wait to meet you again!” she declared. Was that too much, she thought to herself? Don’t seem too eager. “Or whenever.”
Lola made a confused face. “C’mon, Boogie,” she said, scooping her sausage of a dog under her arm. There was a neat, tiny pile of dog poo underneath him. “Oh, sorry,” she mumbled.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll get it,” offered Elly.
“Damn right, you will,” muttered Gemma, walking out the door. The cameramen dutifully followed, ripping down the black curtains on their way out. Bright, welcome light flooded the studio. The last one leaned toward Snarky Teenager with a business card in his hand.
“Don’t even,” said Elly with a scowl, snatching the card from his hand. A blush crept over his handsome features as he shuffled out the door.
There was a moment of silence in the studio, as they all stared at each other. With a wail, Anthony broke the quiet. “Lola Plumb is our bride. Lola Plumb is our bride! Forget the Olympian!”
Then all three of them were dancing, all at once. Elly stepped in the dog poo, but it didn’t matter. The very famous Lola Plumb was her celebrity.
Later that evening, as the warm sun set outside her bay window, Elly couldn’t help noticing that Keith’s socks had big holes in them. Why would you ever keep socks with big holes in the toes? She pointed at the holes as Keith fingered a lock of her hair. “Do you need socks?” she asked. “Does the deli not pay well enough to buy socks without holes?”
A lazy grin crept over Keith’s face. He’s adorable, thought Elly. I could lie here for the rest of my life and be content, just watching that smile crinkle the corner of his eyes. She shook her head. Who thinks things like that? Get a grip, lady. Keith wiggled his toes. “Do you not like my holey socks?” he said. “I was thinking of getting them ordained.”
Elly let out a loud groan. “Horrible. Horrible abuse of humor.”
“I thought it was funny.” Keith pulled himself up and over Elly, so that he was hovering near her face. “Maybe you can come over later and darn my socks.”
Elly kissed his cheek softly. “I have news for you: I will never darn your socks.”
“That’s a shame,” he whispered, his lips softly brushing hers, “because all my socks have holes.” Suddenly, the door gave a creak, followed by a loud banging. Elly leapt up, sending Keith rolling to the floor. “Get up, get up!” she hissed. “That’s Dennis! He must have taken the taxi earlier than planned.”
Keith sat up on the rug, folding his arms. “So?”
“I don’t’ want him to feel weird when he comes in. Like we were doing something.”
Keith leaned back against Elly’s coffee table. “We were doing something. We were having a lovely moment. And kissing.”
“Shhh!” shushed Elly. “Coming!” she yelled toward the door. “Keith, can you please just—”
Keith heaved himself off the floor and cracked his back. “Okay. I’m standing. There is no way we could have been doing any kissing.”
Elly gave him a razor-edged glare and walked toward the door. Try to make him feel welcome, she thought, he has no other family. Don’t make him feel like this is a burden. She flung the door open. “Helllooo,” she crowed, sounding like a bad impersonation of the queen.
Dennis stood in front of the door, his blue eyes cast down. The bright-orange backpack hung loosely on his shoulders, the backpack that had once brought Elly so much terror. “Hey,” he mumbled. “Hi!”
Elly attempted to give him a half hug. He stiffened under her arm. She recoiled, embarrassed. “So, come on in. Welcome home.”
Dennis shuffled inside, stopping short when he saw Keith. “Why is he here?” he asked.
Elly tried to navigate this sudden emotional minefield. “Oh, he was just here to help out, if you needed any help with anything.”
Dennis looked himself over. “I only have this backpack. What the hell would I need help with?”
Keith reached out for the backpack. “Then that is what I will help you with.”
Dennis leapt back. Elly was surprised at his speed-to-girth ratio. “Don’t touch that,” he wheezed. “Don’t touch my backpack.”
Keith stepped back. “No worries, dude. I won’t touch it.”