For Better or Worsted Read Free Page A

happened and might be letting the pressure out a little at a time, like when you dropped a bottle of soda on the floor and all the fizz built up inside. If you opened the top quickly, it erupted like a volcano, but if you loosened the top slowly and let the pressure out in little bits, there’s no Vesuvius of drink. I told her whatever she did was fine with me.
    “Okay then, no, I don’t mind if my father sees someone. In fact I want him to. I wish he’d get married again. Anything so he’d be happy.” She looked at me. “So?”
    What could I say to her? Should I tell her that her father and I were just friends, that he wanted it to be more than that, but I was trying to keep my life from being so complicated for a while? I had been married for just about all of my adult life when my husband, Charlie, died. I’d been a wife and a mother and never just me. This was my chance to try my wings and fly solo.
    The truth was that Mason claimed to want just a casual relationship, but for now, I was glad to keep both Barry and Mason at arm’s length. I really cared about both of them. Maybe even the
L
word, but I wanted some space. But that was too much to lay on her at the moment. Besides, I viewed our whole conversation as just nervous chatter, avoiding the pink elephant in the car with us.
    Thursday had grown quiet as I pulled into my driveway, and I wondered if this was going to be the moment her emotions erupted. Instead she just got out and walked across my backyard, waiting while I unlocked the kitchen door.
    “I hope you don’t mind cats and dogs,” I said, seeing that my two dogs and two cats were waiting by the door. As soon as I opened it a crack, Cosmo, the small black mutt of indeterminate breed, ran outside. He screeched to a stop at Thursday’s billowing white dress and began to sniff. Blondie was a terrier mix in name only and made a more hesitant move outside. She was one of a kind, a terrier with the aloof personality usually attributed to cats. She didn’t even bark much.
    I stopped the two cats before they walked outside. They’d come with my son Samuel when he moved back home. We only let Cat Woman and Holstein outside with supervision, and never at night.
    Thursday seemed taken aback by the menagerie. She looked down at the black dog making his way around the base of her dress. “Can I pet him?” she asked.
    I was surprised by her manner until she explained. “I’ve never had a dog,” she said, still seeming hesitant about how to proceed.
    “What about Spike?” I said, referring to her father’s toy fox terrier, who was all terrier in the personality department.
    “The first thing my father did after my parents separated was get Spike. My mother doesn’t like dogs, or cats, or birds, or fish,” she said with a shrug. She finally crouched down and offered her hand for Cosmo to sniff, and then he moved in and offered his head to pet.
    I suggested we go inside, looking at her dress. “I’m sure you’d like to change.” I said it half as a question, and she nodded.
    I took her across the house, and I offered her a pair of cargo capris and a T-shirt, which was my summer uniform when I wasn’t at work. Our builds were a little different, and the outfit hung on her like she was a hanger. But just getting out of the dress seemed to take a load off her mind. I changed into cargo capris and a T-shirt, too. They were a lot snugger on me, but definitely went with the sneakers better than the fluffy dress. Still, she hadn’t said anything about what had happened.
    “I know I haven’t eaten, and I imagine you probably haven’t, either.” She followed me back into the kitchen.
    Thursday started to shake her head and then looked down toward her stomach as it let out a rumble of protest. “Can I really be hungry after everything?” she said. I waited to see if she was going to say anything more about “everything,” but she let it drop and said some food would be welcome.
    I started to take