chapter 2

It was the Saturday after Michaela’s homecoming to Gardener Ranch. She had had a pretty easy week - laying around in her room, sitting with Sarah in the kitchen while she tested new recipes, getting all the gossip from Mom about Sarah’s new “friend” Paul. 

Michaela sat with her feet cross-legged under her at the family dinner table. They were collectively opening the third bottle of wine after a very hefty Italian dinner - a white sauce AND a red sauce pasta, garlic bread, cutlets, and caesar salad. Michaela had shocked herself with her voracious appetite. Her family drunkenly chatted while Sarah slipped to the kitchen.

“Michaela, finish that last little bit of spaghetti. Don’t want to throw it away…and don’t want your dad having it.” Her mother patted her dad’s round tummy. 

Michaela drunkenly slid the serving bowl towards her and absently twirled the spaghetti onto her fork. There was more than just a mouthful - enough for another person at least. Her family hadn’t adjusted yet to cooking for 4 instead of 5, in Jackson’s absence. The wine seemed to blur Michaela’s appetite, and she shovelled it in her mouth.



Sarah reemerged from the kitchen with an enormous tray of brownies and placed on the table. Steve opted out of sweet treat, but the ladies of the house obliged. Janice even topped it off with coffee ice cream, and her daughters quickly followed suit. 

The family chatted more, Michaela learned all about Paul, and the drama of his entire family - the Gardeners were for sure talkers. But the evening slowed down, and their parents went off to bed. Michaela yawned and began to excuse herself to bed as Sarah returned from the bathroom.



“The fack you think you’re going?” she slurred. “You’re not going to bed are you? We’re just getting started!!”

“I’m tired, I haven’t really drank like that since school!!” Michaela said groggily.



“Get used to it. That’s the norm around here.” Sarah produced a bottle of tequila. “We usually drink every night. I can’t believe it’s taken them this long to get this sloppy, to be honest.”

Michaela eyed the tequila. She had never really had a crazy night with her sister. She accepted the shot and said, “Okay, we are going to need more snacks though.”

Sarah smiled wickedly, “I thought you’d never say that.” She lugged her heavy body off the chair and brought the bottle into the kitchen.

 Two more shots for the sisters each, and Sarah dug out a huge Tupperware from the fridge. It was packed with fudge.



“Mom and Dad hated this batch. Too rich apparently. And Paul already took a tub…perfect drunk food for us though!”



Michaela stared at the box strangely. Despite the evening of overindulgence, she was staring at the treats with starved attention - it was like dinner, dessert, and wine hadn’t even made a dent. Sarah cracked the fudge open and slid it across the counter to her sister.