Page 421 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

reds to my left, blues to my right,

plastic bodies everywhere.

Almost 43 hours since Andrew said he needed space, which means almost 43 hours without more than three hours of sleep.

Celie groans. “Bitch, no you’re not.”

“I’m having a peaceful Christmas.”

“You don’t even have a tree.”

I look up.

Andison’s sitting on the kitchen counter,

wrapped in fairy lights. “Yeah, I do.”

“That sad-ass plant don’t count.”

“See? That’s your problem.

“No Christmas spirit.”

I grab a blue lid, try to snap it onto the square bottom, but it bends at one corner and refuses to seal.

Why doesn’t it fit?

I scan the battlefield.

This is the last square top,

and the last square bottom.

It needs to fit. It doesn’t have a choice.

I hold down one corner,

trying to pop the opposite into place.

It doesn’t snap. It pops back up again.

I try again. Then examine the lid.

It looks warped.

“Celie,” I say low, resigned.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna have to call you back.”

“Why?”

“Because something very serious just happened.”

“Allie—”

I hang up, staring up at the dishwasher,