Knitting Under the Influence

Kathleen shook her head. “No, that would have been a good thing. And it's more that feeling you get when someone's mad at you.”

“Maybe the bartender had a girlfriend.”

“Will you forget about the bartender?” She pushed the start button on the coffeemaker. “It'll be ready in a few minutes. You guys want to stay in here or move to the family room?”

“Those are our only choices?” Sari said. “Doesn't this house have at least fifty other rooms?”

“Oh, don't exaggerate,” Lucy said. “It's a simple little fifteen-thousand-square-foot cottage. Don't make it sound like a mansion.” She took a small bite of her bagel shell, then put it down on top of the pile of discards and dusted off her fingers with the finality of someone who has had all the breakfast she intends to have.

“I should get dressed,” Kathleen said with another yawn. “But it seems like so much work.”

“You poor thing,” Lucy said. “You slave over a hot drink all night-”

“A hot bartender,” Sari said. “She slaved over a hot bartender all night. The drinks were cold. All fifteen of them.”

“I think there may have been fifteen,” Kathleen said. She pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and said wearily, “I’ve got to cut back.”

“What I don't get is how you stay so thin,” Lucy said. She reached down to the floor for her knitting bag and pulled out a ball of yarn, two knitting needles, and an attached length of sparkling blue scarf. “If I drank as much as you, I’d be the size of this house. Alcohol's fattening.”

Sari said, “Uh, Kathleen? I usually take coffee in my coffee.”

Kathleen turned to look. Steaming brownish hot water was dripping into the carafe. “Shit,” she said. “I forgot to put in the grounds.”

Lucy hooted. “Brilliant.”

“I told you I was still drunk from last night.” She punched the coffeemaker off.

A young woman walked into the room. They all turned. “Hi,” she said. She had an appealingly childlike round face, long, wavy auburn hair, and a narrow body that seemed too small for the size of her head. “Sorry if I’m interrupting.”

“Not at all,” Sari said. “Hi.”

“It's your house,” Lucy added.

“Morning,” Kathleen said. The other girl didn't even acknowledge her but, with a nod at the other two, walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, took out a bottle of Voss water, then, with another nod and a “Later,” left the kitchen.

There was a moment of silence. Kathleen carried the carafe of dirty-looking water over to the sink and dumped it, then refilled it with clean tap water.

“Okay,” Lucy said. “Which one was that?”

“I don't know,” Kathleen said. “I can't tell them apart.”

“Yes, you can,” Sari said.

Kathleen reached into a cabinet above the coffeemaker and got out a canister of coffee. “Fine. It was Christa. Does it really matter to you?”

“She always that friendly in the morning?” Lucy said.

Kathleen shrugged as she shook some coffee grounds directly into the filter. “I think maybe she's mad at me about last night.”“Why?” Sari said.

“I told you-I can't remember.”

Lucy held her knitting up and studied it critically.

“It's beautiful, Lucy,” Sari said. She reached out and pulled the end of the scarf toward her. “This yarn is incredible. I love the way it glitters.”

“It's got these metallic pieces woven in… It's cool, isn't it?”

“Have you ever made anything besides a scarf?” Kathleen leaned back against the counter where the coffee was finally successfully brewing. “I mean, we've been doing this for years and all I’ve ever seen you make is scarves.”

“I like scarves,” Lucy said.

“I’ve never seen you wear one. Unless you're using them as part of some kinky sex bondage game…”

“Scarves are fun to knit,” Lucy said. She picked up her needles and started clicking away with them. “You just go on row after row, and when it's long enough, you're done.”

“How about some plates here?” Sari said to Kathleen.

The phone started ringing. Kathleen reached up to open a cabinet.

“Don't you need to get that?” Sari said.

“It's not for me-I only use my cell.” The phone stopped ringing. Kathleen put a stack of plates on the counter, then reached into the bag and took out a handful of bagels. She was piling them high on a plate when one slipped off and fell on the floor. She picked up the bagel and was about to drop it back with the others when Lucy thrust a hand in the way.

“For God's sake, throw it out. It's got hairs on it.”

“Picky, picky, picky.” Kathleen tossed it into the sink.

Sari pulled a container of cream cheese out of the bagel bag and opened it. “Get a knife, Kath, will you?”

“A clean one,” Lucy said.

“And cups for juice,” Sari said.

“And mugs for coffee.”

“You guys are a lot of work,” Kathleen said.

“When you come to my place, everything's already set up,” Lucy said. “Sari's, too.”

“I’m sorry I’m not Martha Stewart,” Kathleen said. “Somewhere around the seventeenth drink last night, I guess I forgot to clean the good china for you.”

“Party girl,” Sari said fondly.

Kathleen gri

“Mugs?” Lucy said.

As Kathleen was reaching up to get them, her mother entered the room, flanked on each side by a girl identical to the one who had entered the room earlier. The two redheads made perfect bookends to their blond mother as they all stopped in the doorway. Sari and Lucy swiveled to greet them.

“Hello, Sari, darling,” said Kathleen's mother, who, with her regular features and small frame, looked more like the twins’ sister than their sister did, since Kathleen was tall and dark-haired. “Hello, Lucy. Kathleen, could we please have a word with you?”

“Why?” Kathleen said, turning around. “What is it? Is it about last night? What'd I do?” She seemed more curious than concerned.

“You know what you did,” one of the twins said. It was Kelly, but only her blood relatives could tell for sure-Sari and Lucy had no idea which twin was which.

“Yeah,” Christa said. “You know.”

“Honestly,” Kathleen said. “I don't. Last night is kind of a blur.”

Christa stepped forward, ruining their symmetry. “Oh, please. Like you don't remember talking to that Hollywood Reporter reporter?”

“Reporter reporter?” Lucy repeated under her breath to Sari.

“Not really,” Kathleen said. “I had a lot to drink-”

“Tell us about it,” Kelly said with a roll of the eyes. “You were so wrecked-”

“Like you weren't,” Christa said to her. “You were all over Munchie's nephew.”

“He was all over me. Jealous much?”

“The point is,” said their mother. “The point is, Kathleen, that you said some unfortunate things last night-”

“And now we're screwed because of it,” Kelly said.

“Well, we hope not,” their mother said. “Junie's trying to convince the guy it's worth killing the story to have her owe him a favor-but if he decides to go to print, well, then…”

“We're screwed,” Kelly said, and this time her mother nodded.

“Why?” Kathleen said. “What'd I say that was so bad?”

“What didn't you say?” Christa asked. “I mean, you started with our-”

“You let leak some confidential family information,” her mother said, cutting her off with a meaningful glance in Lucy and Sari's direction.

Kathleen was still trying to figure it out. “What? You mean about their age?”

“That. And some other things I’d rather we not discuss at the moment.”

“Shit, Mom, I didn't say anything that isn't common knowledge. What's the big deal?”

“The big deal is that you've betrayed your sisters’ trust,” her mother said. “Your sisters who house you and feed you and employ you… The least you could do is respect their privacy.”

“I was drunk,” Kathleen said. “It wasn't on purpose.”

“Then you shouldn't drink,” Kelly said.

“Neither should you,” Christa said to her. “You were as bad as she was.”