Page 187 of You've Got Hate Mail
She taps the cup like she’s reading my mind.
I nod.
So not as bad as it could be.
“Dude, try this shizz,” Ten says, thrusting Cricket’s full glass at me. “This is like, the best wine I’ve ever had.”
“You guys eat anything?” I ask.
“We found MERs!” Cricket says. She slides a look at Ten, then adds a hiccup.
Pip sways again. “MREs,” she corrects. “Dean played he was in the army.”
“Dude. Don’t do MRE beans,” Ten says.
“I got the crackers,” Cricket says.
Pip grins up at me. “I had dessert. Like you get dessert every night. And by dessert, I mean Cricket’s booty.”
“Try the wine,” Ten says to me again.
“I have granola bars!” Cricket shrieks.
She winces a little and sends me asorrylook while she sways and pats all around herself before pretending she just remembered she has pockets. “Ta-da!”
“Dude, I’m so wasted.” Ten slumps back against the nearest barrel.
“Drink a couple bottles?” I ask him.
“Mabel said you drankfour. So I drankfive.”
“I’mCricket,” Cricket says primly.
“You’re like fun Mabel though.”
“Eat a granola bar,” she says to him.
“Five bottles?” I ask her.
She winces. “Ginny said he can handle his liquor.”
Have witnessed. Can confirm.
Five bottles is still a lot though, even spread over the hours since they left for the tasting room.
“Six glasses for Pip?” I ask Cricket.
“Half glasses?” Cricket lifts the plastic cup. “I think these are closer to half glasses.”
“Hmph. Not fun Mabel anymore,” Ten says.
His eyelids droop.
Pip grins at me again. “I dranked him under the table.”
“Sure did,” I agree.
Cricket sucks her lips in, suppressing another smile, and I know.
