“Tell me about it.” I said as she wound down.“It’s so hard, sometimes ... I’m a nice person, really I am...” I nodded and hugged her close...when she looked up for confirmation.“I mean, I’ve tried to be good, but I just end up being a ‘turd magnet’. If there is an abusive, mean, nasty man within fifty miles of me, not only will they find me, but I’ll end up dating them. Shit! I used to hate myself, but really that didn’t accomplish much now, did it?” Beth looked so hurt, I had to kiss her.“Look,”. ‘Call her,’ she repeated. It was Stacey’s name I moaned as my trembling fingers hit the speed dial. I loved Jenny, but my body wanted Stacey more. I felt like a traitor. I felt like an incipient supernova. ‘Linnea, you little slut! Where have you been?’ Jenny’s voice was a balm on my aching heart. I cried, but my tears were silent because I knew Stacey wouldn’t want the distraction. My teeth drew blood on the back of my hand when I exploded a millisecond after handing the phone to a triumphant. I took a beer, and we began speaking loudly from one room to another, before she asked me to top up her wine. She held the empty glass through the gap in the door, and I refilled it before returning. I nudged the door open with my foot, but it swung open more than I planned to reveal Claire in just her panties at her dresser. We both panicked, I tried to turn away, she knocked the door, and spilled a whole glass of red wine down my jeans and shirt. She quickly covered herself again, and we both. Her body was the temple of her soul. Secretly, she kept a bottle of Morgan David blackberry wine in the kitchen cabinet, to settle her nerves, she said. At Gene's Place she would occasionally sip wine from her husband's glass. This led to many refills for John. It was a source of humor with their friends. Angie and John drank wine from the same glass. She looked forward to their evenings out. They would dine out, bar hop and dance with his friends till the wee hours. The wine curbed her.
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