“I know an eggplant is a dick. But I swear the taco is a vag—” I choke on my dispute and drop the avocado I had in my hand. Frozen in place, my ears turn red as Florence Baker stares back at me.
I think I’m going to die right here, right now.
Dahlia tries to get my attention. “Raven? Are you there?”
Florence raises an eyebrow. “Eggplant dick. Taco vagina. Burrito blankets.” She grabs her little bag of gathered avocados and heads for the bread aisle.
This humiliation will never leave me. Years from now, I’ll be brushing my teeth, and I’ll remember this moment and cringe.
“Oh hey, I just looked it up. Whoever that was, they’re right.”
“I’m going to kill you,” I whisper indignantly into the receiver. “That was my boss from the library.”
“You mean the library that burned down?”
“It didn’t burn down. It caught fire,” I correct her.
Dahlia makes a grim but valid point. “Right. Well. I think it’s safe to assume you don’t have a job there anymore.”
“You might be right about that,” I concede.
“So, what are you going to tell your boy toys about that bitch Madison?”
“Nothing,” I hiss. “They don’t need to know.”
“Raven, babe, I know I’m not a relationship expert, but I recommend honesty. They’re going to find out one way or another.”
I rub my eyes, warding off a headache. “They’ll think I’m crazy.”
“You won’t know until you give them a chance.”
I don’t like that she’s right. I was hoping for validation, not the truth. But Dahlia isn’t that kind of person. She’s the friend who comforts but still tells you how it is.
“By the way, did you get my gift?”
I roll my eyes as I remember the way my mouth hung open when I opened the package from Dahlia. I’m still not over it. “Yeah. What the hell?”
Dahlia chuckles. “Just be happy I didn’t get you a large. I ordered one to see what it was like, and I haven’t used it. There’s no way that monster is going to fit inside me.”
My eyes widen. “You mean the one you got me isn’t a large?”
“Believe it or not. That’s the small size.”
“What…I…What!”
Dahlia sighs. “I lost track of time. I need to go. August will be home soon.”
“Give that little boy a hug for me,” I request.
“Will do. Love you,” she agrees and hangs up.
God, I miss that woman.
Placing my phone in my pocket, I push my cart around the store, finishing up shopping for the ingredients for dinner. When I’m satisfied that I have everything I need, I head for checkout.
The clerk scanning my items narrows her eyes at me, studying me and smacking her pink bubble gum. I’ve seen her a few times at the store before, but she never says two words to me. Her painted nails are long and decorated with rhinestones. Her thick hair is teased in the back, forming the hump that many women strive for. The bright red name tag pinned to her shirt says “Pam.”
“Aren’t you that new bartender at The Wandering Raven?” Pam’s nose scrunches.
