I knew I was avoiding the topic. They’d say I’m nuts about even entertaining the possibility of dating him again, which I wasn’t. I don’t think. And nothing (much) was really happening anyway. Was it?
So why stir it up? Except...truth is the slope might be getting so slippery that I could actually fall. Again. Maybe I did need additional input from the gang. And Claire’s eyebrow lift was so severe, that I decided to fess up and keep it honest.
“Oh, and Colin called me a few months ago,” I dropped casually.
So why stir it up? Except...truth is the slope might be getting so slippery that I could actually fall. Again. Maybe I did need additional input from the gang. And Claire’s eyebrow lift was so severe, that I decided to fess up and keep it honest.
“Oh, and Colin called me a few months ago,” I dropped casually.
They stared at me incredulously.
Finally Kate spoke, though briefly.
“And?”
“And I’ve seen him a couple of times,” I reluctantly continued.
“Are you nuts?” Maggie blurted.
See, told ya.
“Let me finish,” I tried to explain. “He called out of the blue and left a message. That night I dreamt he was at my door with a shrunken torso, a schmushed head and twirling a long thin tail. I woke up in a terrible sweat. And the next day he actually showed up uninvited, with flowers, begging forgiveness, again. No more lost and lonely Lola. He’s changed. So he says. And I’ve had a few lunches with him. OK, and maybe a few dinners. But that’s all. He’s being patient, but persistent. There. That’s it.”
Then the quizzing began. How could I talk to him again? But since I did, what did he say? Where has he been? Where did we go for lunch? How did I feel? Was I out of my mind? What about Strawberry?
Lenny’s only question was—could Colin come to game night again? The women jabbed him with their eyes. Colin, unlike Strawberry, was an excellent game player.
“This reminds me of when I was interrogated while working undercover in Nicaragua,” I said deflecting.
“You worked undercover in Nicaragua?” Kate asked, cupping her chin.
“Maybe,” I teased.
Maggie piped in. “We have a right to protest, you know. We don’t want you hurt again. That big fat cheater.”
“I know.”
Long dissenting pause.
“But, hypothetically, what if it’s suppose to be?” I wondered.
“Hypothetically,” Maggie responded, “What if there was an oversized bull headed your way, would you stand there contemplating if the universe wanted you to take him for a stroll through the pasture, or would you run like hell?”
“Good point.”
I needed a nap.
to be continued…
