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A lean, beautiful face with cheek bones, pert breasts, long brown legs. Lyla — well, she was much more lovely now than the night she’d made him spill his coke. Yet her face bore the bruises of worrying, and perhaps something more. Was it the image he knew from his own reflection, the hairline cracks of disappointment? Or even of repression? If so, my God, of what? She’d won her man, the life she wanted, the career. A slide show of Lyla images spun through his mind as he saw them totter into the 4×4 and drive off a little too carefully, Suze and her passenger clearly well on the way to being pleasantly drunk: Lyla at her wedding, Lyla at that first family Christmas and cooking for the first time in his mother’s house, Lyla sitting on Matt’s lap at Thanksgiving the next year beerily swearing at the football on the TV, Lyla avoiding eye contact with him once, a thousand times. Or was that just his imagination? Whatever it was, he was enjoying watching her now, under the oddest, the. Out in the hall and away from the crowd, she flipped open her cell to call for a taxi. A couple of extra drinks had put her past the point where she felt safe to drive home, and she was certainly ready to leave.Before she could dial, a familiar voice caught her attention."Hey, Mrs. Peters."Regina looked up from her phone and returned David's smile. He and her daughter had dated for years, and only recently split up. "Hello, David. You look handsome tonight." You look great too." You always were a flatterer, but thank you."David chuckled. "Taking a break from the party? I had to get away from mine for a few minutes." Calling a cab, actually." Sorry," David responded, wincing a little."Oh well, it's probably..." And the winner of the TV is Regina Peters!"Her mouth dropping open in surprise, Regina turned back toward the room."What did you win?" A 52 inch plasma," she answered. "I don't believe it. How in the world am I going to get that home?" I drove my truck. I could haul it home for.
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