The Housewarming

I know it’s at the bottom under the shoes and the wine, I think to myself as I scrounge around the bottom of my tote bag. I am at my friend Alex’s housewarming party. This is a large party of people. We are all together for the first time in two years. I have just witnessed an Elvis impersonator in the mid-century mirror-walled living room. He was a very talented man. 

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I’m digging in the tote because I have completely forsaken purses. I’m not sure if this is a temporary thing or full-time yet, because I rarely go out in public anymore. Since I avoid fancy-bag events, like premieres or baby showers, I am able to carry my necessities over my shoulder in a cotton tote bag large enough to carry a cocker spaniel. And so I do. And I am happy. 

But problems arise with the tote bag in moments like this one, when I need to find a small item at the bottom. Right now it’s my nicotine and I’m spending far too much time in this back room alone scrounging when a fire alarm in the house goes off. My skin contracts. I forget where I am for a moment, then return to my body. I am warm. I am happy. Nothing has ever felt as good as this. Everything is feeling right except for the fire alarm. I hurry my search through the bag, then pause briefly because the alarm is blaring. I should probably be concerned about this. It’s been a full minute and the fire alarm is now getting louder.

I look at my large tote bag and my friend Selena’s large leather bag. They’ve got to weigh fifty pounds combined, I think. 
I can’t leave them in here if there’s a fire, I think.
Did Domenico leave a bag in here? There’s no time.
I throw one bag over each shoulder and it feels like two toddlers, so I know my weight guess isn’t that far off. I stagger out of the room, moving as fast as my Zoom-ravaged legs can carry me, and back into the party. Elvis is nowhere to be seen. I check.  

Most people are talking about the alarm going off, but no one is really moving or looking for the source of this alarm. I see a woman I’ve met named Cora, she dances by me and says, “We go mohair or no hair!” I have never met this woman before tonight, but every time I see her she throws a rhyme at me or Selena and Domenico and so Cora has become our party favorite.  

I search wildly for Alex. Her house cannot burn down at her housewarming party. I take long strides through the hallway of windows into an atrium, bags thumping against my side. For a moment I am so happy to see everyone at the party, having a good time, and then I see the fog coming out of the back room.

Being a helpful type of person –not by nature, mind you, but by habit, because I’ve been a mother for twenty-one years– I offered Alex my light and fog machine for tonight. As fog pours out of a back bedroom and the sirens blare, I realize my helpful offer has caused this scene and stumble into the room.

It is difficult to see, due to the fog and the flashing green and red lights strobing in time to “Jenny From The Block,” which is in turn being drowned out by the fire alarm. It’s chaotic and I’m getting lost in its beauty. Images are entering my eyes in cut segments, like a time lapse. There are a handful of people standing in the room, I have no idea what they’re doing because my brain is completely tripping in the best way, all I see is fog and shapes of friends and all I hear are sirens and Jennifer Lopez.

Then I see Alex. God is real. Alex is standing by the sliding glass door as Peter runs up and yells, “OPEN THE DOOR.” The door is already open. I put the fifty-pound bags down and search the room for a solution. Alex has placed blankets all over the room for extra coziness and I see my tool. I reach for a blanket. I’m already moving fog out of the room before I have the full diameter of the blanket open to fan at full blast. Alex is in front of me fanning the fog out the door with a large pillow towards Peter. Peter, uncomprehending of the situation, is just standing there watching. I am doing my damndest version of Backdraft fire fighting I can manage with this fuzzy blanket. I look up and see Jacob outside, reaching into the room to hold the horizontal blinds back for us. He’s laughing so hard at our human fan chain that I start laughing and then the alarm stops but the sounds of the party, Jacob’s laugh and Jenny From the Block fill the fog-dense air.

As people gather around Alex to discuss the alarm event, I head out the side door into the backyard and stumble onto a harmonica performance that Josh is conducting with sticker gems all over his glee-filled face. Selena and Domenico are here. Jane is playing a small but actually functional harmonica hanging from her necklace. Orlando and Joey find me and I feel a wave of gratitude having so many people I adore so close to me at once. Orlando laughs, “Why are you carrying those gigantic bags around?”  I shrug, “I couldn’t find my nicotine.”