Kate Golightly

Dawn opened my refrigerator. 

Dawn and I got dressed and headed downtown for a visit to Tiffany's. We wore jeans instead of sassy black dresses and strands of pearls, but I like to think we looked pretty great still.

Tiffany's was all it could be and more. I see the allure of breakfasting there, though the guard wouldn't let us picnic in the middle of the store. Go figure.

I glanced over at her from the sink where I washed dishes. I knew what she was seeing in there: not much. I'd meant to go grocery shopping before she arrived to spend the long weekend with me, but I'd been effectively sidetracked by life and hadn't managed to even buy milk. The fact that she was still staring so intently—at pretty much nothing—perplexed me. 

Setting the pot to dry, I turned the water off and dried my hands. "I know there isn't much in there, but if you're hungry I can whip up some pasta or—"

"This is amazing." She shook her head, her face illuminated from the light of the fridge. "Do you know what this is like?"

I mentally listed the contents. "A bachelor's fridge," was the logical conclusion.

"No way. A bachelor would have beer and mayo in his fridge. You have cheese, apples, chocolate, and champagne. You're Holly Golightly personified."

I looked down at the tank top and jeans I wore. 

"You can be glamorous when you want to be," Dawn said, reading my mind. "And look at your life. Going out all night, parties, dancing, meeting new people. All you need is to twist your hair up and put on that slinky black dress you have in your closet. You even already have the big Audrey Hepburn sunglasses."

"You're making me feel like I need to trip to Tiffany's."

Dawn perked up and closed the refrigerator door. "Excellent idea. We'll grab a croissant and coffee on the way."

"I was suckered," I murmured, grabbing my scarf and purse.