Page 48 of Vera Stein Is Fine
“What else was I supposed to think?”
He thought for a moment and then opened his mouth to speak before simply saying, “I’m sorry. I...” He shook his head, whatever he was about to say dying before it could reach his tongue.
“What did you think of me back then?” I asked because I was too nervous to urge him to complete that last sentence.
Sucking in a deep breath, he took my empty coffee cup and rinsed it out in the sink. “You... made me feel like a bad person.”
“What! What does that even mean? I never once said you were a bad person.”
“No.” He shook his head, like he was trying to shake his thoughts loose. “You didn’t make me feel like that because of anything you said. But I was a jerk, Vera, and being around you made that easier to see.”
I didn’t know what to do with that. What did he want me to say? That he wasn’t a jerk? He was moody and gruff. I rarely felt welcome in his company. If it weren’t for that night in Vegas, I would have thought he despised me entirely. Hell, even after that night, I figured he might.
“What are you doing today?” he asked suddenly.
“Um...” The truth was I had planned on rotting in bed all day, but that didn’t sound so great when you said it out loud. “I don’t know. I’ve got some work to do for upcoming programs. I need to find a tarot reader... but I was thinking of checking out drag bingo to see if we could set one up for the residents.”
“I’ll drive,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hanky Panky was a few blocks from Good Vibes Only. Based on my internet sleuthing, it was definitely not the trendiest of the local drag haunts on offer for drag brunch, but I was immediately charmed by the drag queen working the sidewalk to bring in street traffic. She wore a shimmering teal bodysuit that matched her glitter-caked beard.
“Come on in,” she said in a sweet Southern accent. “You two might get lucky.” Then she looked to Eli. “Though it looks like you already have.”
It was just a line, but my cheeks still warmed as Eli held the door open for me.
We were seated and handed menus with bingo cards on the back and blotters stamped in the shape of eggplants. Very subtle.
The half-circle booth we sat in was small and cozy, positioning us close enough so that our thighs touched and we occasionally grazed elbows.
Without any explanation, Eli swapped my menu–bingo card for his.
“What’d you do that for?”
He shrugged. “Just making things interesting.”
The brunch was a set menu of chicken and waffles and it came with a bottomless pitcher of mimosas. The place was a bachelorette party flytrap, and I had no complaints.
“Good morning! Good afternoon! Good evening—depending on whether or not you made it to bed last night,” said the drag queen we’d seen outside.
Eli took a swig of his drink and draped his arm over the back of the booth behind me, the heat of his body pulling me toward him. As nonchalantly as possible, I leaned back and pretended not to notice how close he was and how it made my heart feel like it was skipping rocks.
The queen strutted through the crowd, purposefully running into people with very generously padded hips. “I’m your bingo hostess for today’s brunch. My name is Him Kardashian. You may have heard of my slightly more well-known sister, Kim.”
Eli’s breath danced across my neck as he chuckled, sending little sparks of electricity down my abdomen.
“I don’t see the resemblance!” the bartender shouted.
“Fuck you gently, Ryan,” Him Kardashian responded without missing a beat. “Now, the rules of bingo are simple. First player to get five in a row vertically, horizontally, or diagonally wins bingo. You can pick a prize from our prize dumpster.” She pointed to a box that had a printed picture of the dumpster fire meme taped to it. “And if you manage to get me vertical, horizontal, or diagonal, you’ve already won. Lastly, if you cheat, we’ll give you a bad spray tan and send you on your way.”
“You ready to lose, Vera?” Eli pulled his arm back and leaned over his bingo card.
“Look alive, Buckley.” I uncapped my blotter and stamped the top of his hand with bright orange ink as Him Kardashian began calling numbers.
Eli made a move to retaliate, but Him Kardashian was too fast for him to look away from his card.
Between numbers and forkfuls of food, we warred back and forth with our blotters until both of our arms were covered in eggplants. Eli admitted defeat when I managed to partially blot his cheek.
