Entrapments were a headache, responsibilities a bore. Relationships—who needed them?
Sybil found the black skirt on the lower closet rod and then dropped the clothes on her bed. “I’m not exactly like Mom. At least I’ve held down a job.”
Silence answered her. True, she’d had the same job for five years, but that’s because she enjoyed a certain amount of stability. Unlike her mother, she didn’t relish changing apartments every few months before eviction proceedings could begin, and she refused to use a man for financial gain. Just because she liked male attention didn’t mean she’d take advantage of it. Not in a pay-the-bills kind of way, at least. Having free drinks bought for her because of her appearance was a far cry from giving her body to a man so he’d buy her groceries for the week.
Justify it all you want.
She wrinkled her nose. Why couldn’t she go back to the days she didn’t question her lifestyle? Back to when she didn’t realize how badly her childhood had messed her up and shaped her early adulthood? Until several weeks ago, she’d considered herself well-adjusted. She had a job, a group of friends—albeit, those relationships only went surface deep—and was happy.
From the moment she sawthem,she started to question her life. She and Shellie had gone for half-price appetizers and drinks late on Wednesday evening. A large coed group filled the corner booth of the restaurant. They’d all laughed and had a great time. Joy radiated from their faces. All drank water, tea, or soda. Not a one had a beer or mixed drink. Yet they had a blast, seeming to genuinely enjoy each other’s company. And when their food came, they all bowed their heads and prayed.
She’d never seen anything like it and couldn’t stop watching them until Shellie asked her what she was staring at. Taking a risk at deeper conversation than their norm, she’d told Shellie what she’d observed. Her friend had laughed at her, told her she was reading too much into it and then proceeded to order a second daiquiri.
On the way out, Sybil had noticed several from the group wore similar shirts with the name of a church on them. What would church be like? She’d never stepped foot in one. Mom didn’t believe in organized religion and had branded all church people judgmental hypocrites.
She’d never cared enough to find out if it was true. The entire concept of church and religion was foreign to her, and she’d never thought she was missing out on anything.
Until she’d seen that group. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly why the brief encounter—if it could be called that—had unsettled her. Was it because she saw peace in their faces? Realness in their expressions?
Casting her thoughts aside, she undressed from her work clothes. The memory made her uncomfortable in ways she couldn’t explain, so she’d decided the best way to deal with it was to not think about it.
She pulled the blouse over her head then stepped into her skirt. The zipper wouldn’t close, and she sucked in her stomach to make it up that final inch. She exhaled when she finally fastened it all the way and vowed to lay off the caramel frappes, no matter how good they were.
Typically, she only had the treat occasionally, but she’d been so tired lately she’d grabbed one for breakfast on her way to work every day this week. She could have had straight coffee instead, but July’s heat and humidity were especially brutal this year, and the cool drink offered refreshment with the much-needed caffeine. Too bad her waistline didn’t recognize those benefits.
Tomorrow she’d get to the gym and work off the extra calories from the week. She examined her reflection in the mirror, relieved to see the extra weight didn’t show on her face at all. Her round face didn’t allow for extra pounds, or even ounces, without appearing bloated.
She removed the barrette from her hair and ran a brush through the wavy, chestnut locks. With her energy level already low, she decided not to straighten her hair tonight. She set the brush down to cover a yawn. Maybe she should cancel for the night, but Liz would never forgive her for missing her thirtieth birthday celebration.
One slow action at a time, she continued getting ready. She applied her makeup, giving her eyes a dramatic, smoky appearance then finished it with a thick stroke of black eyeliner. Once she was completely ready to go, she checked herself in the mirror and decided she looked much better than she felt. She smiled and gave herself a pep talk until she was convinced that going out tonight presented a better option than staying home.
Another sigh escaped her after the short walk to her car. As she settled into her seat, she adjusted the radio to a top-forty station. Anything to inject energy into her weary body, which she blamed on her job. She worked in payroll for the school system—a position that normally had her behind a desk. However, her office was being moved to a different location within the building, and she’d spent a large portion of her week transferring all her items from one office to the other. It didn’t help that the elevator had been broken for half the week.
Although she was fairly certain that was the root cause of her exhaustion, if the tiredness persisted after the weekend, she’d make an appointment with her doctor. A few years ago she’d had a similar experience, and it turned out her iron was low. A change of diet and a few weeks of iron supplements later, she was as good as new.
Traffic flowed heavy but steady as she crossed town to Liz’s house off Piney Green. When she pulled up to the driveway, she only saw Rysa’s car. She and Tammy probably carpooled since they lived in the same apartment complex. She parked behind Rysa, and peeked in the garage at Liz’s Cherokee on her way to the front door.
Rysa answered the door. “Come on in. Liz is still getting ready, and we’re waiting forKylie, Jayla, and Emma.”
“Did Tammy come with you?” she asked as she slid into the house.
Rysa nodded. “She’s on the deck on the phone with Todd.”
“I thought they broke up?”
“They might get back together.” Rysa rolled her eyes. “That’s all I heard about on the way over.”
“He’s a cheating jerk. I hope she doesn’t take him back.”
“I agree.” Rysa winked. “Most men are, though, which is why I prefer to stay unattached.”
Sybil laughed and checked her hair in the foyer mirror. “You and me both.”
She made light of it, but she wouldn’t even know what to do in a relationship. In her experience, from her mom and her own attempts at relationships in years past, men didn’t stay. They took what they could, then left without a backward glance. Why should she subject herself to that?
Rysa nudged her. “Where’d that frown come from? None of that allowed.”
“Just a fleeting thought.” She put a smile back on her face. “Do you like this shade of lipstick? It’s the one I ordered from Jayla’s party last month.”
