Girl Crush(21)

Ronnie asked the questions, and Trish poured the wine. And something in that visit changed between my best friend’s girlfriend and me, but I hadn’t pinpointed it just yet because I was still too mortified to face reality.

“Your life is like a soap opera.” There was humor in Trish’s statement but not condemnation. She handed me a glass before joining us on the couch.

“I don’t get it, Giselle. You’re thirty-nine years old. At what point does this stop being your life?” By “this,” Ronnie referred to the immaturity of the situations I constantly found myself in. It didn’t matter if it were men or women—drama surrounded me.

My eyes narrowed at her judgment. “I guess the same point you stop going out on spending sprees like a teenager with Daddy’s credit card.”

Trish snickered, and for the first time since I’d known her, she was on my side. She hadn’t announced her alliance, but clearly articulating her points to her girlfriend only strengthened my case.

As usual, Ronnie blew me off to focus on the subject at hand. “Tell me again what Beck said when you ran into the house.”

“I don’t remember the exact words, but she implied he’d scared me off—like I had been an option for him until he reared his ugly head.”

“But you don’t even know the guy, right?” Trish couldn’t wrap her mind around the insanity, either.

“They had an intimate morning.”

Trish’s eyes went wide. “You slept with her brother?”

“No! I haven’t slept with anyone.” I took this opportunity to point out I’d been more successful with the recent females in my path than males. “I did, however, have an amazing orgasm courtesy of Roxie last night.”

“Chapping your lips on her leg in a bar to the tunes of classic rock does not count.”

“You’re so vulgar, Veronica.” I turned to Trish. “I have no idea how you put up with her.”

“This from a woman with a thousand ways to say vagina without ever using the actual term.” Ronnie raised her eyebrows at me like she’d proven some point.

“Can we get back to the point here, please?”

“And what would that be, Giselle? That you’re approaching forty but still living the life of a teenager whose hormones are out of control? Give me a break. I hate that you threw up on the guy, but what the fuck were you doing out at two o’clock in the morning, drunk, on a work night, anyhow?”

Veronica had my best interest at heart. I knew she did. We loved each other like sisters, but I’d come here for advice, not a brow beating. “Look, I’m sorry I mentioned it. I should have just gone home.” I unfolded my legs from under me on the couch and set my wine glass on the coffee table.

“Don’t go, Giselle. Ronnie’s just mad because she wasn’t out with you. If she could get away with it, she’d still be pulling all-nighters, too.” I’d never noticed how soft her face could be, almost motherly—which was likely what she considered herself refereeing the likes of V and me. “You deserve to have some fun and explore. You were married for far too long to someone who didn’t appreciate you. Don’t let her rain on your parade.” Not once, in all the time I’d known Trish—and it had been years—had she ever gone to bat for me.

“Am I in the fucking Twilight Zone?” Ronnie shrieked rather than spoke. “Do you two hear yourselves? You went out with a crazy chick who’s now trying to set you up with her brother after reconciling with her ex. And you dry humped a woman in a bar like a dog, before being escorted home by date number one’s twin who you promptly threw up on the next morning. Then to top it off—you gave him a peep show before running out of his house. In what world is Trish sticking up for you, and when did I become the voice of reason?”

I couldn’t stop the gales of laughter that erupted from deep in my belly and out my mouth. Shoulder-shaking, stomach-clenching, can’t-catch-my-breath laughter. My life had become a shitshow, but for whatever reason, I just kept playing along.

We ended up hanging out the rest of the night, which was an early one for me, before I went home…alone. My house was dark when I pulled into the garage. There was no one waiting for me; nobody who cared if I even came back, much less how much I spent on a pair of shoes. I didn’t often find myself in a pity party for one, but lack of sleep and too much alcohol would do that to a girl. Luckily, I was out with the lights and woke the next morning feeling like a new woman.

One positive to my new love interests, my phone kept me busy. If it wasn’t a text from someone I’d recently connected with online, it was Beck or Roxie. I was popular in the most artificial way, but I’d take it. No one else knew I didn’t have a clue who these people were. Well, other than Ronnie and Trish—but neither of them cared.

A text from Roxie brought a smile to my face. I was excited to see her tonight, but the anticipation was different than what I’d experienced with men. A tad nervous, or maybe embarrassed by my actions Thursday, but it felt more like the buzz of seeing a friend I hadn’t seen in ages than a date. No part of me thought about my outfit or my hair. Like a load of bricks dropped on my head, I realized my wallet was in my purse…which was still in Collier’s possession. I couldn’t go out without money and couldn’t get money without my ATM card…in my wallet.