The Big Rewind Read Online Free

her decoupage kitchen table, where the liquor and chips were stocked. I didn’t know most of her friends, but I recognized Natalie and Mac over by the bookcase, who gestured to me with the traditional hipster greeting of a chin toss and a glance away, pretending to be in the middle of something so important that it couldn’t be disturbed for a proper hello. KitKat had introduced me to Natalie at one of her Stitch ’n’ Bitch nights, and Natalie, in turn, introduced me to Mac, whom she had, at the time, been dating. In addition to managing the Brenner Gallery, Natalie also maintained a blog about her dating adventures titled The Village Bicycle . Although she and Mac had broken up, if Natalie stopped hanging out with all the people she’d slept with, she’d probably have to leave Brooklyn.
    â€œThis is the weirdest memorial I have ever been to,” Sid said under his breath.
    Weird, twee, and oddly appropriate. KitKat would have been totally into this scene if it had been for anyone else. Even in death, she embodied the heart of Barter Street. For a moment, I forgot my part in her passing and just enjoyed the high of interconnectivity we were all sharing.
    That all vanished when I saw Hillary, perched on the kitchen windowsill, smoking, ignoring everyone. She looked twice as old as when I’d last seen her, at KitKat’s thirtieth birthday party: the blue streaks faded out of her blond hair, left-arm tattoo sleeve covered by a chunky gray sweater, no jewelry but the twisted-rope metal of the wedding ring her ska-band-trombonist husband had given her. She was the first person I’d felt genuine sorrow for other than myself, but I couldn’t find the words to express any of it.
    â€œH-hey, Hillary,” I stammered. “How’re you holding up?”
    She flicked her cigarette butt out the window and shrugged. “I just want this all over with.” She sighed. “God, all these people are so fucking annoying. Frauds, all of them. I should have just dumped this shit off at the Salvation Army.”
    Two shrieks erupted from the bedroom, and Hillary huffed herself off the windowsill to investigate. I followed, taking the glass of red wine Sid held out to me like he was in the water line at a marathon. Jylle, with her blond bangs and cowboy boots, was crumpled in a heap on the bed, clutching the sleeve of a red vintage dress, while Brandi, with sob-streaked mascara, held the rest.
    â€œThis . . . is . . . my . . . favorite,” Jylle sobbed in staccato. “KitKat would want me to have it!”
    â€œYou’re too fat for it!” Brandi said with a snarl through her own black tears.
    â€œFor fuck’s sake.” Hillary rolled her eyes. She snatched the pieces of the dress out of both their hands and shoved it onto me. “It’s yours, Jett. Enjoy. You two, get out.”
    They stared at her. Hillary threw shade that would have made a drag queen shiver. I looked at the whole scene and then at the dress in my hands. The girls gathered themselves up and left without another outburst. I shoved the sleeve into my pocket and tossed the dress over my shoulder, following Hillary until I got back to Sid.
    â€œWhat was that all about?” he whispered.
    I shook my head. Hillary returned with a Whole Foods bag and a sheet of green garage-sale labels with two already missing. “Just stick these on whatever you want,” she said. “And you can keep Baldrick. I went ahead and claimed his food and water bowls for you. Our aunt Jenny made them; they should stay with him. I’ve got his cat carrier too, if you want it.”
    â€œSure,” I said, holding up my labels. “I’ll . . . uh . . . go claim it.”
    Sid refilled the bourbon in his glass and dropped two octopus ice cubes in with a barely audible clink. I put a sticker on the ice cube trays. I didn’t need or want them, but I felt like I had to take something, like accepting a