tried not to dwell on that any longer.
“You look fantastic, Mon! You need heels , though. God, your calves are amazing! Rock solid, and your arms. The weight training is doing wonders for your tone!”
“Thanks, Ana!” She always complimented me lately. Three years ago, when I finally decided I needed help, she had been by biggest supporter. I barely left my house. But because of the therapy, I had been able to deal with the rape, had lost the eighty pounds I had gained and began to work out and tone my body. I no longer hid in my home, no longer avoided the male species like the plague, and had begun a work out regime. I biked twenty miles a day on the weekends, ran five during the week, and did weight training every other day. The weight had been another issue. Over the years, I put on weight to make myself invisible to men so they wouldn’t find me attractive. I hid in nondescript clothes, and tried to blend into the background whenever I was out of my home, which had been for school or work only. Therapy helped me learn these things about myself. It helped me face my demons, deal with my guilt, my OCD, and why it had developed in the first place.
“ You look like you’re twenty! I am so jealous!” Ana patted her belly.
“Ana, you look good , too!” And, she did. She had long auburn hair that she got from our mother, and hazel eyes. She was tall for a woman at six feet, to my five eight, and held herself well, despite being just a tad overweight. Being diabetic, she carried the few extra pounds around her middle. Nothing like the situation I had found myself in after eating myself into obesity to thwart any male advances. Her face was like a porcelain china doll, with a pointed chin, a smattering of freckles across her cheeks, and a heart shaped face. She had never been without a suitor or male companionship for longer than a few weeks. This was one of those times.
“Okay, go get those heels. I am ready to par-tay!” She got up from the sofa, and followed me into my bedroom. “I love what you have done to the house. It looks great. You will have to come by my place and give me some decorating tips.”
“You are the queen of clutter, woman. My tip is to buy a shed!” She laughed as she looked at the floor of my closet and picked out a pair of brown sandals with a three inch heel.
“Ooo! These,” she said , handing me the pair she had stooped down to get.
I leaned on my queen sized bed, and strapped on the heels.
“Let’s rock’n roll.” I followed Ana out of my room, down the hall, and out the door.
Here we go , I thought, a bit nervously.
We got to the Blue Martini, a little after ten o’clock, and the place was nice but not too crowded. It was very large with an open floor plan. There were several bars that served drinks spread sporadically throughout and a large dance floor in the center. It also had six pool tables near the back. I followed Ana through the bar until we found an area deemed appropriate for us to sit.
“Don’t worry, by eleven this place will be hopping,” Ana stated as if reading my mind. “I wanted to make sure we got a seat at the bar.” She got up onto one of the tall, leather stools that framed the heart-shaped bar, and I got up onto another one of the chairs beside her. The lighting was nice, not too dark, but the music was thumping.
“What will it be, ladies? ” The bartender asked. “First drink is on the house tonight!”
“Club soda for me, and a d -i-r-t-y, d-i-r-t-y martini for my sis,” Ana winked at him as she stressed the dirty and made lascivious eyes at the blonde hunk of a bartender. Ana usually didn’t go for blondes, but this guy was a real beefcake muscle-head, and that was her type. She loved the body builder types. He also looked to be in his mid-twenties to late twenties. Another plus for her, she liked them younger.
“Be right back, ladies,” he drawled