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I scooted over to the sill and said, "Whose fault is that? I was working on it until you unleashed the fucking circus."
"I know you were, lady."
"Thanks, by the way."
Rosie shrugged. "I might have done it anyway."
She pointed her chin at my t-shirt. "I saw, before, you have a thing, a blotch, right there. You always had that?"
"Since I was born," I said. "A long time."
Rosie nodded. "I guess I just never saw it before."
There were dead bees in the sill and grit was stuck to Rosie's arms. She grabbed my hand and kissed it before sitting back on her heels, as if about to leave. Then she looked at me, cocking her head to the side like a bird. She leaned into the window once more and kissed me quickly on the mouth. I felt the blaze of terror that comes from the totally unexpected, but then it was over, before I could even join in the act.
Her cheeks had felt warm, from embarrassment or booze. She smelled of chlorine.
Rosie pulled her body back out the window. She stood and contemplated the pool, about fifteen feet below. She had red indents on the back of her legs from sitting in the patio chair. "To the freedom of the cats," she said. I watched her toes spread as she sank into her knees, and then pushed off the tarpaper roof with her feet. At first it seemed she was gaining air too slowly, but then she picked up momentum. Her body streamlined. She fell with her stomach leading and limbs trailing up and behind like a parachute jumper. I was the only one who saw the fall, and I was glad I had that to myself.
She hit the water belly first. The crowd looked to the splash's source, unsure of what was happening. I saw her head come up, slicked like a seal's. Her mouth was working as she spat pool water. Once she'd got enough breath she threw her hands up in the air and gave a joyous whoop. The party cheered and a dozen more people jumped in. I tried to pick out her head from the others bobbing in the water. I should have been able to find her, but there were so many faces dunking and resurfacing in the churning water that it was impossible to tell who was who.
Later, downstairs, we drank in celebration. There was music, songs about losing daddy's farm and women who are unfamiliar in the morning, and I took turns dancing with Timmy and spinning soaking Rosie around and around. She sent water flying as she whipped her hair from side to side.
Hank winked at her and I laughed and shouted "Go to hell, Hank!"
"This is no way to treat a host," Hank said. "No way at all."
Davis sulked by the pool but I didn't care. I drank too much because I was so full of joy I felt I had to drown it out. There was so much of everything! Rosie stopped drinking so she could drive us home.
As we made our way to the car later that night we passed the other station wagons and trucks and sedans that were beeping at each other and flashing their high beams. Rosie was smug and I was singing, "Yeah, I'm coming home cause, I'm just about a moonlight mile on down the road..."
We got into her car at the end of the drive and took off.