Hold On

I stared at my best buddy, Violet Callahan.

She stared back at me.

This went on too long.

So I finally said, “Are you gonna eat that sandwich or what? That crabmeat might be fake, but it still cost cake and I’m not made of money.”

She smiled at me, picked up her sandwich, and took a big bite.

I grabbed a Pringle and crushed it in my mouth.

“So, whatever eventually happens with Merry,” she said with her mouth still full, and I looked to her as she swallowed. “You gotta spill. Is he good in bed?”

“Mind-blowing.”

The smile she gave me then was a lot bigger.

“Way to break out of a dry spell, babe,” she hooted. “Only you’d do it and make this big of a bang.”

There were so many things about that that were funny, I burst out laughing.

My best buddy, Violet Callahan, did it right along with me.





Chapter Seven


Never

Cher



My day off was not as relaxing as I would have liked it to be considering the fact that I needed to take Vi’s (and Merry’s) advice, which meant phone calls to a variety of people to share what was happening with Trent and, especially, with Peggy.

These calls included one to Colt, whose voice got so tight over the phone, I knew he was about to blow a gasket.

However, even with a tight voice, he assured me, “No one is gonna do dick with Ethan that you don’t want, Cher. So don’t even think about it.”

Of course, coming from Colt, who meant it and, if necessary, would make it so, that made me feel better.

As for Mom, since I didn’t think it was right to share something like that over the phone or by text, and I didn’t want to do it when Ethan was around (and he was always around unless he was at school), I hit The Station and waited until she had a break so I could tell her in person.

Needless to say, Mom was ticked. She wasn’t Trent’s biggest fan back in the day when we were together. She began actively hating him when he left me high and dry after knocking me up, this causing me to make the desperate but strategic career decision to become a stripper. And that hadn’t faded over the years, so she wasn’t all fired up that I’d let him back in Ethan’s life.

As for Peggy, Mom declared, “Never could put my finger on it, but I knew that woman was a bad seed. Only been around her a coupla times, but each time she gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

Hearing these words, I looked forward to the day when I would develop the mom sense my mother had (and most mothers had), but unfortunately, it seemed that sense would forever elude me.

I picked up my kid from school and set him on his homework while I went out to deal with the pots of mums Vi got us from Bobbie’s Garden Shoppe.

Even if it was a rental, I planted flowers. Every spring I planted a border of alyssum along our walk. I’d also bought big pots to sit on either side of the stoop and had a hanging planter by the door. Along the front of the house, I’d planted a shitload of hyacinth, daffodil, and tulip bulbs so it was awash with color from early March to late April. I filled that in with purple and white impatiens or lobelia or petunias in early summer.

I was not a gardener like Vi (she was both by trade and the grace of God). It looked good, but it didn’t look amazing. I liked doing it okay, but it wasn’t my favorite activity.

What it was was just a little something to make our house look like a home, like someone gave a shit, and I wanted my kid to see that every time he walked to our front door. And since Ethan was intent on playing football for the Brownsburg Bulldogs when he got to high school, I always planted in the school’s colors because I hoped he’d get what he wanted, and when he was dating cheerleaders and shit, I’d have to have the practice.