Feels Like Falling - Kristy Woodson Harvey Page 0,26

cans down to the recycling center in our backpacks and some old grocery bags we’d found around the house, and we got up enough money to buy a hairbrush for me and some deodorant for him.”

“Damn, Diana.” I felt sick to my stomach again. I hadn’t been getting a Porsche for my sixteenth birthday or anything, but I had had two parents who loved me, who made sure I always had what I needed even if it meant they had to sacrifice something for themselves.

“Just having my hair brushed didn’t fix anything. It didn’t keep the kids from picking on me. But it gave me the confidence to face the bullies.” She turned and smiled at me.

I guessed that was what I needed too. I needed to find what would give me the confidence to face the bullies. “My mom always used to say people picked on people they were jealous of, but it isn’t true, is it?”

Diana shrugged.

“I mean, when they were making snide remarks about my being a bad wife and mom when I was building my company, I could write it off as jealousy, but now…”

“I was lucky,” Diana said, “because I found my best girlfriends right around that bad time in foster care. We took care of each other. We still do.”

“Your ride or die,” I said, smiling.

Trey came bounding into the kitchen in a pair of Lululemon gym shorts and a T-shirt. “I heard you call?” he said. “Oh, yum, a Diana smoothie.”

“I didn’t call you.”

“You said ‘ride or die,’?” he said. “That’s me!” I patted his arm. He was my ride or die. I didn’t know what I would do without him. Trey looked over my shoulder. “Why are you reading those e-mails? Those e-mails are in my inbox.”

“Well, I was up and you weren’t.”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “It’s seven-thirty. It’s okay not to return e-mails at seven-thirty.” He slammed my laptop, poured some smoothie for himself, and said to Diana, “I don’t know what to do with this one. I think she would work herself completely to death if it weren’t for me.”

“Hey! I was about to log how many hours I slept in my chart,” I protested.

“What are we talking about?” Trey asked, as if I’d said nothing. He thought my spreadsheets were a little overzealous.

Diana and I shared a glance. “Nothing, really,” I said, though that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

“Have you filled her in on what a loser Greg is?” Trey asked.

I groaned. “No Greg talk. I don’t want to think about him or even hear his name today.” The only side benefit to Wagner’s being gone for three weeks was that I didn’t have to deal with Greg.

“It takes a certain kind of man to be married to a successful woman,” Diana said. I didn’t take it as an insult, but Trey evidently did. He rushed to my defense.

“Are you kidding me?” Trey countered. “It’s 2020. Who cares who’s most successful? It’s about being partners.”

“Honey, you’re a whole different generation,” Diana said.

“I don’t even know if that was it, though. I mean, yeah, I was more successful, and I know it bugged him, but he benefited from my success more than anyone.”

“It’s an ego thing,” Trey chimed in.

“Yes!” Diana agreed. “Maybe that’s why Harry stole my savings and gambled it all away. He inherited his momma’s house, but I was paying the bills. If I had more money than he did, I had more power. I could leave. I didn’t have to depend on him.”

I nodded, realizing how vastly different our lives were and how, even still, the themes were kind of the same. “Yes!” I said. “That’s so true.”

Trey shook his head. “So what you two need is to find men who aren’t threatened by your innate goddesshood.” He paused, putting his finger to his lips. “Like maybe someone a little younger… maybe someone who isn’t scared of a strong woman.”

I cut my eyes at him. “What do you know?”

He shrugged innocently.

Marcy burst in practically singing, “Girls’ night tonight! Oh, hey, Diana.”

I gasped. “Oh my gosh! I totally forgot I have girls’ night tonight.” I looked at Diana pleadingly. “Um, do you think you could throw together a few appetizers?”

Diana nodded. “Sure. Of course. What do you want?”

These were the kinds of decisions I could no longer handle. I made decisions all day, every day. I told people what to do and how to do it. Today I just wanted someone else