“Hey Em, you’re dressed all fancy for bed.”
Poppy is wearing her pink PJs with unicorns patterned all over it. On her feet are fluffy white slippers that looked like rabbits.
“Pop,” I say with a smile. “Wanna go on a pub crawl?”
“A pub crawl?” Her face lights up. “Sure! I was about to order room service and watch Titanic.”
“Okay, that’s depressing.”
“Let me get changed.”
Poppy emerges wearing a black knitted top, tartan skirt, and bright red leggings.
“Okay, I’m ready! How do I look?”
“Like Poppy.” I laugh.
“Let’s go, we just need to make one stop first.”
We met Mom and Dad at a pub called Randy’s. The place is full of Royal Kings fans—dressed in their jerseys. Poppy made us stop at the concierge and had him hunt down a place that was still open that sold jerseys. We found the place not too far from the hotel and placed them on top of what we were wearing.
The atmosphere is buzzing. Drunken patrons all singing loud and proudly buying each other rounds of drinks. There is a mix of young, old, and any other person you could think of. I spot Mom at the back; she’s got her arm around a toothless man singing to The Proclaimers.
“Emmy!” she beams, stumbling over to greet me.
There are many things in life you witness but watching your parents drunk is always a hoot. Dad was at the next table over, doing rounds of shots with a bunch of young guys. It was equally disturbing that the drink is called a Juicy Pussy.
“Hey Mom.” I lean in and give her a hug. She reeked of beer and smoke. “Have you been smoking?”
“Oh, lighten up kid. Who made you Mom?” She chuckles loudly with the toothless man.
I take satisfaction in knowing that tomorrow she will be sporting the worst hangover and regretting her actions. Serves her right for partying so hard at forty-nine.
I introduce Poppy to Mom. They seem to hit it off straight away and bond over another pint.
“Where’s Logan and Ash?” I ask, scanning the pub.
“They just left with the team for the next pub over.”
We lasted five minutes in the pub until Dad announced it was time to pub crawl . . . again. Everyone cheered and we followed him out to the next pub over, walking along the street like a drunken march.
The next pub is called Hudson’s Corner. A bigger joint and more crowded than the last.
“Emmy!” Dad calls over the crowd.
I slide my way through, holding Poppy’s hand so we didn’t separate.
“Dad, ease up on the shots. You’re not twenty-one again. Plus, it can’t be good for your meds.”
He laughs, kissing my cheek. “You see this, Alan? This here is my daughter Emmy. Ash’s twin.”
“Twins?” Alan acts surprised. “Blimey! You’re gonna break some hearts.”
“She already has.” The voice is behind me, and without turning around my smile is stuck. I twist my body and Logan is standing behind me. Dressed in a checkered navy and white shirt, tucked into his navy slacks with tan-colored shoes on his feet. His large watch is hanging off his wrist and hair styled perfectly to the side.
He looks delicious. Like an Armani sunglasses model from a magazine. Perfect in every way.
“Poppy, you remember Logan?”