on. “And besides all that, I couldn’t have more children because you didn’t want them, and I couldn’t have a cat because you said you were allergic. And while we’re at it, I hate that living room suite you picked out. I may take it out in the yard and burn the damn thing. I can always use lawn chairs until I can afford to buy another one.”
She realized that if she’d been pointing a gun at Eli, she would have unloaded a full clip into him and then shoved in a new one for the next round. She downed the rest of her second glass of wine. “Damn, that felt good.”
“Anyone else got anything to say about this new business?” Tootsie asked.
“Just that I did the same thing with a therapist after Gerald left, and you’re right, Carmen, it felt damn good to unload on him even though he wasn’t Gerald.” Diana handed her a second cookie. “You need this to soak up some of that wine.”
“Moving on, then, Joanie, you got any new business?” Tootsie asked.
Joanie set her glass on the bedside table. “Hello, my name is Joanie, and I’m carrying around guilt like a security blanket.”
“Why?” Tootsie asked.
“I still have a husband that I love very much. My dream of having him home every night for supper is about to happen, and Carmen is going through this divorce, and Diana’s already been through one, and it’s made her so wary of dating that she’s afraid to even give Luke a chance.” She stopped for a breath. “Why should I be happy when y’all are in turmoil? Even you, Tootsie—getting your dreams shattered by losing Smokey—and here I am sitting on the top of the world. Why me? What did I do to deserve happiness when y’all don’t have it?”
Diana picked up Joanie’s glass and handed it back to her. “Give us the guilt blanket. We’ll burn the damn thing and scatter the ashes over the Red River. We’re so happy for you; not one of the three of us would ever want to throw shade on your sunshine. So let us share in your happiness.”
“But I’m the one breaking up the friendship,” Joanie groaned.
“No, honey.” Tootsie patted her on the knee. “Nothing could ever break up what we have. We’re family, and those bonds can’t be broken.”
“Thank you.” She held up her glass. “To family.”
They all touched theirs with hers and repeated what she’d said. Then Tootsie turned to Diana. “It’s your turn to share.”
“Hello, I’m Diana.” She grinned at Joanie. “I’ve been hiding behind a couple of birth certificates to keep from facing an attraction I have for Luke. That makes me an idiot, I know, but I’m afraid to trust anyone even after five years. Please don’t make that same mistake, Carmen.”
“I’ll do my best.” Carmen’s dark hair fell in front of her face when she nodded. She pushed it back behind her ears and picked up another cookie. “We’re getting crumbs on your bed.”
“We’ll take the bedspread out on the back porch and shake it when we adjourn this meeting. Go on, Diana,” Tootsie said.
“So Luke and I had a talk on Saturday.” Diana went on to tell them that she realized Luke had made perfect sense. “And so when we get home, Luke is going to ask me out to dinner, and I’m going with him. Then we’re coming back to my house, and we’re going to watch a Bourne movie.”
“And?” Joanie raised an eyebrow.
“And I’m still terrified to tell Rebecca that I’m really dating, as in maybe a serious relationship on down the road a few months or a year from now,” Diana added. “And I’ve never taken a man into the house I shared with Gerald. Sure, I broke the dishes he ate from and gave all his clothes away, but the house itself is where we had good times as well as bad ones. I’m afraid it will be strange having Luke there.”
“Yet, it could completely erase any spirit that Gerald left behind. You’ll just have to see what happens.” Tootsie shared the last of the wine between the four of them.
“What if it doesn’t, but then we get really serious—maybe deciding to spend the rest of our lives together?” Diana asked.
“Then you simply move into another house. I told you that Luke sold his company and made millions in the profit. If you get that serious, he can build you whatever kind of house you want. Hell, you can