Chapter 12

“This is the best day of my life,” Sharon announces as she reaches out to grab the wine bottle to refill her glass. Her light brown hair is loose and cascades over her shoulders and down her back, with wisps of the shorter strands sticking out and blowing in the cooling September breeze.

Across from her, a narrow-eyed Meredith sits on the other patio chair with her elbows planted on the table, a glass of half-empty red wine nestling lazily in her hand.

She takes a huge sip and swirls the liquid in her mouth before swallowing and says, almost offended, “Gee, thanks. It’s been my pleasure to bring such great delight into your life with my tales of romantic misfortune.”

The other woman chuckles, nearly choking in the process, and retorts, “Whatever is going with you,” she nods pointedly, “is hardly a romantic misfortune. It’s more like...I don’t