Hold On

“I should apologize,” I told her.

“You should and maybe you shouldn’t,” she returned. “He needs time about a lot of things. He needs to get over his ex. He needs to figure out where he’s at and what he wants. In the end, you two will be friends again, of that I’m certain. The rest, it’s him who has to be in the right place, and he’s not right now, Cher.”

“You’re right. He needs to get in the right place, and when he does that, find the right woman.”

Her brows drew together. “You say that, and I don’t know for sure what you’re sayin’, but I think you’re sayin’ that right woman isn’t you.”

I flipped out a hand. “Vi, the cop and the stripper? This ain’t Hollywood. A hookup like that doesn’t go beyond just a hookup in real life.”

She screwed her eyes up at me. “Now you’re makin’ me want to throw this awesome sandwich at you.”

“Vi—”

She leaned into the table again and snapped, “Shut it.”

I nearly burst out laughing.

Vi was as sweet as pie. She could hold her own, and she’d been through some serious shit, but she was sticky sweet.

Those two words were channeled from her badass husband.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had and you’re the coolest woman I know. Heck, half the time I’m around you I wanna be you.”

I slammed back in my chair that time, I was so rocked by her words.

“Everyone thinks so, Cher. The first time I met you, you were in everyone’s face, shouting this is me, which really meant back off, this coming from every word, deed, gesture, stripper shoe, and miniskirt. But the last couple of years, you mellowed out, found out who you really were, and came into you. You dress cool. You act cool. You’re all…” She flicked her hand around in the air my way. “Edgy and shit.”

I felt my lips quirk.

She kept semi-ranting.

“You hang with the cops at their end of the bar, fuckin’ this and motherfuckin’ that, and they act like you got a desk in the bullpen right next to theirs. You hang with the bikers at the pool table, and they watch your ass and stare at your rack like starvin’ men who entered a room with a buffet. Morrie told Cal straight up he, his dad, and Darryl always gotta keep one eye on you when the bikers are in the bar or they reckon one of ’em’ll knock you out, fling you over the back of his bike, and spirit you away.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Why would I bullshit you? Cher, you’re the shit and everyone knows it. That is, everyone but you.”

“Feb’s the shit in an edgy way. You’re the shit in a sweet way. Rocky’s the shit in a classy way. Dusty’s the shit in a together way—”

“And we’re all taken. You’re the shit in a Cher way.”

I took a page out of my kid’s book and rolled my eyes.

She slapped her hand on the table and I rolled them back. When I saw her irate, pretty face, I nearly choked on the laughter swelling up my throat.

The laughter stopped right in my gullet and I felt a choking feeling for sure, but in a different way when Vi spoke again.

“He did what he did, honey. He did it. No one blames you. No one looks down on you. Everyone gets he did what he did and part of what he did he did to you. All they see now is a woman who had the absolute worst happen to her heart and you didn’t give up. You kept going. You made your life better. You got better for your son. You’re a good friend, a great mom, and an amazing woman. That’s all anyone sees. I would not lie to you, Cher. What happened to you would destroy nearly anybody. You didn’t let it destroy you. People don’t look down on you. They admire you.”

Swallowing hard past the lump in my throat, I looked back out the window.

“Please, honey, for all the people who love you, especially your boy and your mom, don’t let him destroy you. Any part of you. Set the last bag of shit he left you aside and find some happy.” My eyes drifted back to her as she finished, “Because, honest to God, you deserve it.”