She winks and gives me a grin, causing me to believe she is always so devious and I reach for a pair of rumpled jeans off my bare hardwood floor and peel off my oversized t-shirt. Opening a drawer I select a bra, clasp it, and move back into Shane’s line of vision.

She’s grinning and her cheeks are slightly red.

“You were looking, weren’t you?” I whisper.

“Who could resist?” She teases, slipping her hands into her beaten denim jacket, jingling her keys around with her fingers. I wish I could nix the shopping and add a Shane beneath my covers.

I do get dressed though slowly and with much interference from my companion and we make our way downstairs where I can smell my mom’s cookies. I poke my head into the kitchen and grin; it’s littered with eggshells and splotches of flour. Settled on the floor is Manny, elbow-deep in a mixing bowl, licking the remnants of something apparently chocolate. I catch my mom poring over a tattered index card scrawled with a recipe.

“Mama, I’m leaving, call my cell phone if you need anything.”

“Oh Carmen baby, I thought you were going to sleep until noon.” She adjusts her glasses and uses the back of her hand to push her wiry bangs out of her eyes. Her face is tired and it’s barely nine-thirty. Shane just hangs back, waving at Manny, who waves back with a sticky hand.

“Nah, Shane and I are going Christmas shopping. Shane’s neighbors are throwing a get-together tonight.”

“Oh, you want me to make them some cookies? I can fix a tray, they like cookies right?”

My mother, Philomena, is convinced that everyone in Los Angeles lives in a multi-million dollar home on Hollywood Boulevard and does nothing but sunbathe and smoke cigarettes. These said people do not eat anything other than protein shakes, either. This is somewhat true, but I know even if Bette and Tina didn’t eat that, they’d still take it out of common courtesy.

“Yes, mom, they like cookies.” I sigh and Shane chuckles, sliding her hands into her jean pockets.