Free Bigger (The Nicky Beets series) by Erin Mayes

working late that night, so he wouldn’t miss me if I wasn’t
home. And Laurie knew me well – nothing in the world sounded better than
a big glass of zinfandel at that moment. “All right, but I have to go grocery
shopping at some point tonight, so I can’t stay late.”
    “Cool. See you soon.”
    I pulled up to Laurie’s Berkeley bungalow forty-five minutes later and
took note of my friend’s new dirt garden; where grass had once grown in her
front yard, there was now just an expanse of dry dirt. Clumps of earth and
roots were spilling messily onto the sidewalk.
    I let myself into Laurie’s unlocked front door and greeted my friend,
“The hell happened to your yard?”
    I heard the tinkling of glasses from the kitchen, and Laurie emerged in a
swirling peasant skirt, wine goblets and sustainable organic red wine in hand.
    “I decided to stop watering the lawn because it was a waste of a precious
resource, and then Frank got pissed off at me and had all the grass torn out,”
she laughed and poured me a generous glassful of wine. “The goddamned neighbors
have their panties all in a bunch about it, so I’m thinking of putting in some
native plants that don’t need much water.”
    “How dare they?” I teased her.
    Laurie is the crunchiest granola hippie I’ve ever had the pleasure of
knowing – and I’ve known her since the eighth grade. She’s hell bent on
saving and re-using resources, buying only organic, unprocessed goods and
overall doing her share – and probably mine as well – to save the
world.
    Normally, Laurie wore earth-toned organic cotton maxi dresses, locally
made jewelry and comfortable (organic!) shoes. If I’d tried to wear the things
she traipses around in, I would look ridiculous, but somehow she pulls it off.
She’s a little plump, following the birth of her daughter, Sage, three years
prior, and is large-chested and ample-hipped. Her cheeks are always tinted pink
and her hazel eyes twinkle next to her satin complexion, which she absolutely
never touches with makeup ( Dioxins! Laurie
chides).
    A French major in college, my friend now teaches mostly drama nerds
French at a local public high school. Something about the French language
appeals to the romantic in every geek, but the realists all enroll in Spanish.
    Laurie’s married to a computer scientist – Frank Zinck. He is her
polar opposite. Frank is a pale, English introvert who stumbled upon loud
American Laurie during her month-long trip to France a couple years after
college. To meet Frank now, you’d never guess he’d had the balls to snag
Laurie, or precisely what it was she saw in the Brit that made her fall in
love. He’s nineteen years her senior, and so introverted you could accurately
describe him as a recluse. Opposites attract, I suppose. I met an older guy from the UK… We’re
getting married, she surprised us all upon her return home .
    My friend is impulsive, but it somehow always seems to work out for her.
She and Frank married at a winery in Saratoga about four months following their
first encounter, and baby girl Sage followed soon thereafter. Frank managed to
obtain his green card and from what I could tell, he now spent much of his time
at work or holed up in his home office tinkering away at something or the
other. He seemed content keeping to himself while Laurie mothered their
daughter and embarked on new Earth-saving adventures.
    “You should come see my new compost pile,” she said.
    “Mmm, tempting,” I answered, taking a sip of wine and settling into the
couch.
    “I’m going to fertilize the garden with it, once it’s ready to go.”
    “Sounds awesome. And smelly.”
    Laurie settled into the couch with her glass of wine.
    “So,” she began. “This newscast you were part of.”
    I groaned.
    “Did they ask you if they could use your image on television?” she asked.
    “No.” I told her. “According to Chuck, they don’t have to if you’re in a
public place. And really, if you think