Espressos, Eggnogs, And Evil Exes

“10…9…8…”

I chanted the numbers along with my friends and millions of strangers up and down the Eastern seaboard as the big crystal ball slowly made its descent over Times Square in New York City.

I was, fortunately, snug and cozy in my house, watching the ball drop on TV instead of in person. I’d done that before, and I was much happier cuddled up on the couch with my boyfriend Matt and a glass of champagne than I’d been standing in the freezing cold for hours on end just to watch some underwhelming pop stars lip sync—badly, in most cases—to their greatest hits while bouncing around the stage wearing either just enough to keep them on the right side of the law or a fur coat big enough that they looked more like a bear than a human being. After you’d suffered through that, the ball drop was exciting just because it meant you could finally go home.

“…7…6…5…”

I was enjoying this New Year’s Eve for more reasons than just that it was spent surrounded by my friends, beside a roaring fire in the comfort of my own home. The year had been a long one. A tough one. A painful one. My entire life had fallen apart in the past year. I’d thought I was settled, working a stressful but fulfilling job and living with the man I thought I’d marry in the city that never sleeps. But then the man ran off with another woman, leaving me on the hook for an apartment I couldn’t afford on my own. I should have picked up and moved home then, but I didn’t. Not until my mother dropped dead at the way-too-young age of fifty-five, leaving my childhood home and the family business—Antonia’s Italian Café—to me.

“…4…3…”

And then, somehow, I seemed to have taken up the hobby of solving murders in my small hometown of Cape Bay on the coast of Massachusetts. The murders themselves had been shocking—Cape Bay’s crime had been limited to petty theft and light vandalism. But this year there had been a series of murders, and I’d managed to get myself involved in investigating every single one of them. I’d solved them, but I was still looking forward to the fresh start of the new year. A new year I hoped would have as little death as possible—although if the sad little ficus in the corner of my living room finally gave up, I wouldn’t be too torn up. Whatever other talents I had, caring for plants was not one of them.

“…2…1…”

What I did want in the new year was more of what I had right at that moment—my new boyfriend beside me, my friends gathered ‘round, and my beloved Berger Picard dog sprawled across my lap. That, as far as I was concerned, was all I ever needed. Well, and maybe a good cup of coffee, but my espresso machine in the kitchen could handle that.

“…Happy New Year!”

I looked into Matt’s warm, smiling brown eyes and tipped my head towards him. He bent his head and kissed me warmly, softly, tenderly. In spite of the room full of people, I was tempted to let the kiss go on and on. It was perfect. But then I remembered something.

I caught Matt looking confused out of the corner of my eye as I turned around to look at my friend Sammy, sitting on the other side of my small living room next to her maybe-boyfriend Ryan. She looked innocently back at me, maybe too innocently. She and Ryan had been flirting for months now, and we were all pretty sure they were together, but she still stubbornly denied that anything was going on between them despite all the evidence to the contrary. I had hoped that I’d be able to catch them sharing the traditional New Year’s kiss, but I was either too late or they hadn’t done it. Based on the looks on their faces, I suspected I’d missed it.

I caught our friend and coworker Rhonda’s eye; she shook her head slightly and shrugged. She hadn’t caught what Sammy and Ryan did or didn’t do either. Then Rhonda tipped her head towards the fourth couple in our little quartet. It was Sammy’s best friend Dawn and her boyfriend of the moment, Jack or Jay or Jason—something like that. I couldn’t keep up with them, but it didn’t really matter because he’d be replaced by someone new within a couple of weeks. But for now, they were all over each other. All. Over. Each. Other. Right there in the middle of my living room with the rest of us looking on—or looking away uncomfortably.

Rhonda nudged her husband and pointed towards Dawn. He waggled his eyebrows at her and grinned. She laughed. He laughed too, which made Rhonda laugh harder. Soon the two of them were lost in a giggle fit, which spread to me and then Matt, and then Sammy and Ryan. Even with all six of us cracking up, it still took Dawn and Jared or Jaden or Jacob a few seconds to look up.

“What?” Dawn asked, wiping at the corner of her mouth.

Jacques or Javier or Jamiroquai stared at us blankly—he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed—when we all laughed harder as we saw the smear of dark red lipstick around his mouth.

Dawn at least caught on and started laughing too. “Oh, honey,” she said and licked her thumb to rub the lipstick off his face. It only made it redder. Dawn shrugged and gave up. Her boyfriend looked completely unconcerned as he slugged back his glass of champagne.

At least that reminded me that I had planned to use the champagne for a toast.

“A toast!” I said, harnessing my giggles as I held my champagne glass up. I tried to sit up straighter, too, but Latte, proving nothing got in the way of my dog and his sleep, remained stubbornly sprawled across my lap.

At least everyone paid attention to me anyway and raised their glasses in the air, even Dawn’s boyfriend whose glass was empty.

“To new friends—” I began, gesturing towards Sammy and Rhonda. “—and old—” I gestured to Matt. “To new experiences and coming home again. And to fresh starts. Because I think we could all use one after last year.” I paused again and looked around at my friends—the people I considered my new family. Well, except for Jackson or Jacopo or Jafar. “Cheers.”

“Cheers!” my friends said.

I clinked my glass against Matt’s and then Rhonda’s since they were the only two I could reach, and drank my champagne down. It was a little warmer than I would have liked—I poured it too early—but it was still bubbly and tasty.

“That’s good champagne,” Dawn said. “You have any more?”

“Nope. But there’s still plenty of eggnog,” I said.

“Ooh, that was good, too,” Dawn said. Then she narrowed her eyes at me. “Wait, you mean the one with or without the rum?”

I narrowed my eyes back. “That depends on how you’re planning to get home.”

For a second, she looked panicked, even though she lived less than a mile away and I was pretty sure she’d walked over. Habit, I guessed.

“I’ll make sure she gets home,” Ryan said.

Sammy flashed him a smile.

“Ryan’s taking me,” Dawn said, as if she thought I hadn’t heard him.

“To your apartment,” Ryan said quickly. “I mean, I’ll make sure you get back to your apartment okay. You and—” He waved his hand in the direction of Dawn’s date like he couldn’t remember his name either. “—him. Assuming he’s going back to your place, I mean.”

“Oh, he is,” she nodded with a smug look on her face and went to sip her empty glass of champagne. “Ugh. I forgot.” She held it out towards whatever his name was. “Babe, could you get me some more?”

“I’ll get it!” Sammy said, hopping up quickly and grabbing the glass from Dawn’s hand. I had a feeling she was more interested in making sure Dawn didn’t drink too much than in saving the boyfriend of the month the trouble of getting up. She picked up the empty plastic drink cup from the table next to Dawn, too. “Anyone else?”

“I’ll take some,” Matt said.

I elbowed him in the ribs.

“What?”

“You don’t need Sammy to get your drinks for you. You’re the co-host tonight. You don’t have your guests get your drinks for you.”

“She offered,” he protested.

“That doesn’t mean you have to accept.”

“I would, but—” I said, and gestured at Latte still sprawled across my lap. As if by magic though, he decided to take that moment to reposition himself—on Matt’s lap instead of mine.

“Problem solved!” Matt said.

I shook my head at him as I stood up. “Anyone else?”

“A glass of water?” Rhonda’s husband Dan asked.

“Sure thing. Anyone else?”

“Just make sure Sam gets me the eggnog with the rum, okay?” Dawn asked.

“Of course.” With no one else making any requests and Sammy already disappeared around the corner, I headed for the kitchen.

When I got there though, Sammy wasn’t ladling eggnog into Dawn’s cup. Instead, she was staring at her phone, her face white as a ghost’s.