“Don’t change the subject,” Chloe admonished. “We need to know who this mystery man is.”

Annie opened the cabinet back up to search for more. She found eye shadow, mascara, eyeliner, and put them on the counter. “What does it matter?

Seriously. He’s incredible!” Annie beamed at Chloe in the mirror and then turned to grasp Rebecca’s hands, squeezing.

“She looks happy,” Rebecca admitted. She smiled back at Annie’s infectious enthusiasm.

“Yeah, and so did Diane Keaton in Mr. Goodbar. Remember what happened to her?” Chloe quipped, reaching past Annie into the medicine cabinet again. “You need darker mascara than that. Here.”

“Mr. Goodbar?” Rebecca giggled. “Wasn’t that like 1970-something?”

“Richard Gere.” Annie sighed. “Now there’s a man like fine wine…” Chloe stepped between them like she was breaking up a fight. “Listen, you two, I’m being serious, now, okay?” Annie turned back to the task of applying make-up.

“So bring him out! Let us meet this incredible guy,” Rebecca said, flipping the fuzzy lid down and taking a seat on the toilet. “Does he look like Richard Gere?”

“I’m meeting him outside. He’s…kind of shy,” Annie explained, making her mouth that strangely perfect, unconscious O as she applied mascara.

“Shy enough to have sex on my kitchen table?” Chloe snapped.

“Shy enough to hide under it for most of the party,” Annie said with a shrug.

“What, is he deformed?” Chloe asked, making a face.

“Maybe he has social anxiety disorder,” Rebecca remarked, handing her sister the eyeliner. “My friend Bill has that.” Annie smiled a thank you.

“Annie, be reasonable.” Chloe smoothed her sister’s long, dark hair affectionately with her hand. “You don’t know this guy. What if he’s some psycho? I mean, a person has to be pretty weird to be sitting under a table at a party, right?”

“Well…maybe…” Annie admitted. She rubbed her lips together and grabbed another tissue to blot them. In the harsh light of the bathroom, with both of her sisters there to nudge her, she had to admit it was a pretty strange situation.