It was early that evening, we were on the phone, and I’d told her everything.
“Not sure it’s as fun living it,” I mumbled.
“I haven’t had sex since my personal trainer moved to Vegas,” she retorted.
“Eek.”
Yes, I made that noise out loud.
“You understand me,” she mumbled.
I did.
Then again, I hadn’t had sex since the night before Conrad told me he was leaving me, and I’d obviously not had sex with anyone other than Conrad for two decades.
Something else to fret about for I had a feeling Mickey hadn’t abstained since he kicked his wife out.
Maybe sex was like riding a bike.
God, I hoped so.
I curled my legs deeper under me in my sectional and asked, “So what should I do?”
“Honestly?” she asked back.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” I told her.
“Okay, then honestly, if we never again took a chance on love, then our ex-asses would win. They’d beat us. Completely.”
I drew breath sharply into my nose.
I’d recently realized I’d been beaten, and often, and not only allowed that to happen but had given away my power in order for it to happen.
And I’d also recently made the determination that had to stop.
“So,” she continued, “if this doesn’t work, it doesn’t. If you have a spell where you go to your nursing home and decorate your house and go to movies by yourself, you do. If you find another guy, you try. But it would suck if we let those assholes beat us. It would suck if we let normal shit a lot of women endure and then bounce back from take us down for the count. So we shouldn’t. You should ride this out. Be smart. But see where it will take you. And hopefully at the very least it will take you to out of the zone of self-induced orgasms and into a new zone that feels a whole lot nicer.”
Her words were wise.
I just wondered if she heard them as she said them.
“Robin—” I started.
“Lawr isn’t the only one waking up while watching you go through the tough stuff,” she said quietly.
My heart settled.
Wouldn’t it be great if my brother and best friend were happy?
Wouldn’t it be even better if they found happy together?
It was too good to believe.
But I hoped for it all the same.
“Anyway, my ex-ass’s wife is a lesbian and he’s soon going to be paying double alimony, so if that’s not a shot in the pants, nothing is,” she added.
I burst out laughing.
She laughed with me.
My doorbell rang at the same time there came a pounding.
I twisted to it, heart starting to hammer, thinking I’d see Mickey in the frame and that was definitely early indication he was angry about something.
But I didn’t see Mickey.
I saw two bodies, both appeared female.
I had a feeling the afternoon nursing home entertainment had made the rounds.
“I think my friends Josie and Alyssa are here,” I said as the pounding kept coming and I folded out of my couch.
“Old folks talking,” she muttered.
“My guess…yes,” I confirmed.
“I’ll let you go, but sweetie?”
“Yeah?” I asked, ascending the living room steps.
“Go for it. Don’t let him shit on you. But take a chance on being happy.”
I smiled at my phone as I lifted my hand to the lock. “Thanks, sweets.”
“Later, darling.”
“’Bye, honey.”
We disconnected and I opened the door.
The instant I did, Alyssa sniped, “Seriously? Mickey? And you didn’t say anything?”
She pushed in and did it carrying what appeared to be a chilled bottle of vodka.
I turned to Josie to see her waving toward the driveway. I looked beyond her to see Jake pulling out of my drive in his truck.
“Apparently, we’re getting drunk,” Josie said under her breath when she turned to me. “Jake’s designated driver but he’s not staying for the inebriation part.”
As I moved out of her way, I thought that was a good choice, considering his company all had vaginas, he did not and the topic of conversation was undoubtedly going to be his friend who also didn’t.
She came in and I closed the door, observing, “Small town, fast talk.”
“You got that right, sister!” Alyssa yelled from the kitchen. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell us!”
“I didn’t want to be talking to you two about Mickey behind his back. You guys are friends with him,” I told them.
“So?” Alyssa returned. “I’m friends with a lot of people and that doesn’t stop me from talking, and listening, behind their backs. I’m a hairdresser, for God’s sake, if these lips are loose,” she pointed to her mouth, “clients find another maven with the mojo to beautify.”
“I also wouldn’t talk,” Josie said, slipping onto one of my stools. “But I do appreciate you not sharing. For Mickey’s sake. I wouldn’t say anything to anyone else but, of course, I’d need to share with my husband and that would be awkward.”
“I share with my husband too, but he’s long since learned to tune that shit out when I’m yapping at him. This happened when I told him Carver Hoover had a penis ring. I start yammering,” she waved a hand over her face, “Junior’s gone.”