Carol stayed until the wee hours before she drove home. James and I stayed awake even later than that, finally going to bed as the sun turned the blackness of night into a bright cobalt blue. "It's dawn again," he pointed out.
"Yes. That seems to be our thing."
I have what can only be described as a tenuous crush on him, strengthened by Labatt's and the fact that he looks like my father in his Instagram photo. He's cute, funny, kind, committed to wanting the best for us girls.
I don't know what to think of it, actually, although hanging out with him makes me long for Shawn, the closeness of a male friend, the silences we used to share. On the other hand, it would be just dandy if James had kissed me, would have probably (with the exception of my brother staying the night) been fine if he didn't end up in the basement where he slept until 12:30 p.m. in the bedroom with no windows.
This was a weekend in which I had no concept of date or time, only place. Friday I hosted a Rock Band Party at my house, got many of my derby sisters and brothers tipsy while feeding them mini cheeseburgers, party slush, and brownies. My actual brother was there as well, looking too skinny and rather tired from a long day at work before he crashed in the guest room around 2 a.m.