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A crowded Friday afternoon subway car, and my stop coming up. I'm trying to squeeze past you to get to the doors as you're zipping up your jacket, and you catch my hair and necklace in the zipper. We're stuck, tangled together by happenstance and fate, and I can't help but laugh at the consternation on your face. We're jostling the passengers around us, trying to free my hair and your clothing, drawing grumbles of complaint and annoyed looks, as the doors clatter closed and we're still stuck, my stop sliding away as the train moves on. I hear you curse, your voice a lovely, soft depth in my ears, and you finally laugh too, pulling me into the shelter of your arm and holding onto a strap with the other hand."Let's just get off at the next one and fix this mess, shall we?" you say, and I have to agree, despite the fact that you're tugging at my scalp with every breath you take. I lean in closer to ease the strain, and sigh."I guess we'll have to," I say, and I can smell your cologne,. ’ Barb, Sue and I went back to their room where we talked some more. I was drained after the whole evenings activities.. The girls just let me have one of the beds and after a couple more drinks I fell asleep. The next morning I showed up at the family breakfast. It was nice just being around my family. I could tell George wanted to throw digs my way but took the high road seeing all our kids were there. Damn, I spent thirty two years of my life with this man and never took the time to really get to know him or him me. When George left to go home he said goodbye to all the family and then told me to enjoy my new life. I couldn’t help tearing up, after all wether I loved him or not, we spent thirty three years together. After all our thirty third anniversary was the next day. After breakfast I went back to Barb and Sue’s room to get my stuff and go home. I thanked them for letting me spend the night and for telling me about Paul. It will help me make some future decisions. I then.
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I took off my blouse and threw it on the bed, picking up the dress and working my way into it. It fit, but just barely. It was tight, and I hoped I didn’t look too much like an overstuffed sausage. Cindee saw me and walked toward me, evaluating the dress. “Looks good,” she said, “but you’re going to have to lose this.” She pointed between my breasts, where my bra was exposed by the low cut of the dress, and the spaghetti straps. “It’s okay,” She said, moving behind me. She undid my bra and pulled the straps off my shoulders. Once I was free of it, she looked me over once more, and gave me the nod of approval. “How do I look?” she asked, holding her arms out and posing. “Awesome,” I said, hoping it was the right word. I heard my girls say it all the time, and I hoped I didn’t sound too dorky. I tucked my bra into my jeans pocket and arm in arm, we rejoined the party. Things had slowed down. The group of people huddled around the appetizer table had left, and the wait staff was.

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