The idea of Riley, who’d done a body fat test on me seventy-five pounds ago (and one just three weeks ago and about seventeen in between), having a crush on me made me burst out laughing.
“Riley does not have a crush on me,” I said when I quit laughing.
“Riley thinks you’re fine,” Sissy returned.
“Riley has a girlfriend with bleached teeth and a perma-tan,” I told her.
“He broke up with her ages ago. Anyway, you make Riley laugh, even when he’s holding your feet and you’re doing ab curls.”
“There’s nothing to laugh about when you’re doing ab curls.”
This was true, I hated ab curls. I hated exercise and I wasn’t that hot on cucumber, arugula, onion and Bulgar wheat tabouleh. I’d rather have a huge burrito with spiced meat, cheese, sour cream and guacamole and a humungous chocolate chip cookie but I hadn’t worked my ass off (literally) to go back now.
“Tell me about Luke,” Sissy changed the subject, knowing, after twenty-two years of being my best friend that I was holding out on her.
“Later.”
“Now.”
“Later, Sissy. It…” I stopped, then started again, “wasn’t good.”
“Was it bad?”
“No, it was just… weird.” Weird really wasn’t the word for it but I was going to go with that for now.
“Well,” she said, giving in and her voice had gone soft. “Then don’t worry about Dom. I’ll come home in a few days, we’ll do it together.”
“No!” I said, kind of loud. I didn’t want her to come back. I didn’t want Dom to talk her into taking him back. I wanted her clear of him. I wanted Sissy to come back to herself and for Dom to be out of her life, forever. “I’ll take care of it,” I finished.
“I don’t…”
“Sissy, I’ll take care of it.”
“I don’t like it. Dom’s not really a guy you mess with.”
“I won’t get caught.”
“Crap,” Sissy muttered, her second thoughts clear in her voice.
“I’ll be all right. I’ll go tonight, search the house. It’s his poker night, right?”
“Yeah,” I could tell she still didn’t like it. “Call me when you get home.”
“Okay.”
“Later, honey.”
“Later.”
I hung up, tossed the draining Bulgar wheat in with the other junk, chopped the onions, cried a little bit, threw them in too, mixed it up with a dash of olive oil, lemon juice and salt and pepper. I got out a fork, took a huge bite and said, mouth full, “Blech.”
It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t a burrito and a chocolate chip cookie either.
You know, you really should listen to Sissy, Good Ava said to me.
I think some breaking and entering will be fun! Bad Ava put in.
Shit.