Anita snuggled closer. “Now you have to tell me what you and Chris do,” she murmured conspiratorially. “It’s like mutshually ashured deshriction.” Anita’s drunken slur making the last words almost incomprehensible.

No way I’m telling her about the diapers.

Maggie smiled awkwardly. “But we don’t do anything… like that,” she finally said.

“Really?” Anita sounded surprised and almost disappointed.

“Sorry.”

“Aww. Don’t be sorry.” Anita stroked Maggie’s cheek, her eyes quickly going more unfocused. “You’re real pretty,” she slurred. “If you were a guy, I’d put you in a dress.”