I preheat the oven and call Layne, hoping she'll be able to calm me down.

"Yes, Baby?" she answers on the first ring, "Is this your RSVP to dinner?"

"I'm not even sure if I can go," I tell her about my aunt's disappearance and the three hours I have to prepare literally, everything. "I'm about to start crying, Layne. Is she crazy?"

"It's okay," I hear a ruffling, "I'll be right there."

"Wait! You don't have to do that," I object, "Its fine."

"Nope," I hear the sound of a car door opening in the background, "I'm coming to save you before you burn your aunt's house down, by accident or arson. Now be a good girl and send me the address."

"Okay," I accept my fate and text Layne the directions to the house. She arrives in record time, which is confusing up until I see her bust out a small box of donuts.

"You remembered?" Our late night drive seemed so long ago, I'd forgotten myself.

"Of course," she sets them down, kissing me, "Alright so, what first?"

We split the task of cooking and setting up, with Layne monitoring the oven while I rearrange furniture to accommodate the tables to eat off.

"Your aunt sure did put a lot of work into making you do all this work," Layne comments, a donut in one hand and a diagram in the other, "Like seriously? Diagrams?"

"She's like that, I don't know," I finish moving the last table and collapse on it. Manual labor in a dress wasn't on today's list of things to do. I turn and see Layne, staring at me, "What?"

"You in a dress... I'm not sure how I feel about it..."

"It's not even a real dress. It's a hoodie dress," I reply, "I mean, I have on Vans with it."

"It's like we switched aesthetics," she comments, gesturing to her simple blue button down and chinos. Honestly, seeing her in a more masculine was just as cute as what she normally wears. She's fresh, even down to her white Nike Janoski's. She continues, "I think we spend too much time together."

"You're making a really big deal about my dress that isn't really a dress," I comment.

"I know," she shrugs, "It's just... Your ass is super fat and it's out there in a dress. I'm not complaining, but like... Other people might notice you're sexy... I don't want the competition."

"Ain't a competition, Layne," I continue moving chairs, "We're stuck with each other remember?"

"True," she continues to stare at my ass, "I just think I like super boyish KJ, better than super sexy, Kaylie Jane."

"Too bad," I toss a table clothe over the table and then bust out a box of place settings, "I have to look like a female today."

"You look like a female everyday," she stands, "I just don't know why you wanted to look like a sexy female."

She stands and helps me with the table, "It's tempestuous."

I look up and see Layne giving me less than pure looks. "Girl stop looking at me like that... This is a Christian home."

"Shut up," she pushes me against the wall, throwing me off balance, "You shouldn't have fucking worn that dress than."

She kisses me and I'm powerless to do anything but kiss her back. My lips part on their own accord and the kissing deepens. She grabs my ass, almost to prove her point.

The dangerous thing about kissing Layne was that we both disappeared into another. In that world it's nothing but her lips on mine, our tongues in an erotic tango. All I can taste is the sweet icing leftover from the donut she'd enjoyed moments ago. The only thing I'm taking in is her familiar scent of sweet vanilla and roses. Only, that's not the world we live in.

Suddenly, a throat clears and we jump apart, Layne not so gracefully hitting the table we'd just finished setting.

To my relief its only Chess, who I'd totally forgotten about, "Jesus, Chess, what's wrong with you?"

"Sorry, Layne texted me that you needed help, moving some things?"

"Yeah," Layne groans from the ground and I bend over to help her up, having played a massive part in throwing her into the ground, "I forgot to tell you."

"Was I interrupting something?" Chess looks between us and I duck from the room, hiding in the kitchen for the remaining cook time.

A quarter till three hits, and with everything set and in order, Layne and I relax on the couch together, her in my lap, her head resting on my chest. Chess keeps watch by the window, occasionally shooting suggestive looks at us. The sound of tires on pavement sounds outside and we both sit up, "I think that's them."

"I'll leave," she stands, "But I'm taking the donuts."

"Not the donuts," I mock gasp, "I haven't even had one yet."

"Too bad. You'll have to come get them if you want them back," she hugs me and skips out the back door, just as the front door rings.

"Hey!" my family streams in, cousin after auntie after uncle, time rapidly consumed by good times and good food.

***

"Kaylie," one of my aunts approaches me, "Where's Violet?"

"I don't know," I reply. But she need to get her boujee ass here so I can go the fuck home.

I try to make time fly by washing dishes, but each time I look at the clock it seems to not have moved. My phone buzzes and I see a string of texts from Layne, each other getting less concerned and more pissed.

You said you'd be here!

I check the time again. Dinner had started at three and it was now just rounding six. The Sinclair's dinner had started two hours ago, at four, so if I left right now, I'd be late, but not clean up time late. But again, that was only if I left right now.

Dammit where the fuck is this bitch?

Chess had long ago departed after eating his weight in macaroni and cheese. There were a few couples I'm sure would do me a solid, but I wasn't sure how Aunt Violet would react to me leaving the house in their hands. I could ask another aunt, but that would lead to questions such as "Where am I off to?" and "What friend is more important than family?"

I settle with an older cousin, one just young enough not to question my need to leave but just old enough not to be questioned as an admirable host.

"Unc," I place a hand on his shoulder, "Wanna do me a solid?"

"Sure thing, cuzzo, what do you need?"

"I've gotta head out," I explain, "Do you mind taking it from here?"

"Sure. Why don't you ask Aunt Violet though?" he points to where my aunt is, in conversation with some other relatives.

"When did she get back?" I hadn't noticed.

"She's been here about an hour, or something. I don't know."

"Aunt Violet!" I storm over to her, but she holds up a hand for me to stop talking."Hold on, dear. The adults are talking."

She goes back to her conversation, ignoring me. They talk for another ten minutes, and realizing this conversation is not headed back towards me, I tap her shoulder again, "Aunt Violet."

"What, child?" she lulls, "It better be important."

Important? Y'all are talking about hand bags... I keep my thoughts to myself, and instead go with, "When were you going to tell me you were back?"

"I thought you would've noticed, Kaylie, darling," she shrugs, "I've been here since about five."

Five? As in I could've left hellas ago?

"Are you serious?" my blood heats, burning to boil over.

"It isn't like you had anything better to do," she turns to our other relatives, "This one. She's such a homebody."

"How would you know what I had planned?" I struggle to keep my voice steady, "How---"

"Don't get smart, with me," Aunt Violet cuts me off, unbothered by anything else I had to say, "If you want to leave, then just leave. It's late anyway."

I glance at the clock, seeing it was approaching seven thirty. I'd blown the last ninety minutes just trying to think of an escape plan. And then another fifteen trying to activate it. Fuck me.

I grab my shit and make a break for it out the backdoor. Layne's gonna be pissed.

***

I park in front of the Sinclair's, but can't bring myself to get out my truck. The engine murmurs silently as I look at the mostly darkened house, with the exception of Layne's faintly illuminated window, most likely due to her desk lamp. As I sit and waste gas, my phone rings and I answer it, "Hey."

"Are you gonna come in or just stare at my window?" Layne questions immediately.

"Are we gonna fight?" I respond, my hand resting on my shift, ready to put it in drive and flee to Idaho.

"Come in and find out," her voice comes out neither sexy or angry, having an indifferent feel to it. She appears in her window, and she probably can't see me being it's night, but it scares me anyway, "Are you scared, Kaylie Jane?"

"No."

Hell, yeah!

"You don't have to be," she replies, "I can see you, ya know."

"I'm not scared," I repeat, not sure who I'm convincing, "I'm just trying to figure out if I'm getting ass or my ass beat, while I'm still in the comfort of my truck."

"You might be getting both," irritation slips into her voice,"You won't know until you get out the fucking car."

I sigh and turn off my truck, slowly getting out. "Good girl," she teases. I'm halfway to the door when my courage waves and I run.

"KJ what the fuck!" I can hear Layne's voice still over the phone. I end the call, disappearing my bitch ass into the night.