Page 38 of The Wilder Widows

Silence settled over the table, and for a brief moment, I pictured myself in his arms. I pictured kisses like I’d seen in the movies. Passionate and long. Kisses I’d never had with Harold. Ours were mechanical. Kisses shared between a husband and wife. What I pictured doing with Gabriel was anything but mechanical, and as I envisioned his tongue invading my mouth and his hands caressing my body, a wave of shame rose up and pulled me under.

Tears burst from my eyes, and I leaped up from the table, knocking over several glasses when I bumped the edge.

“Doris!” Sylvie called as I ran through the restaurant, but I ignored her and pushed through the crowd, eyes blurred with tears, searching for a place to hide. I heard Marge and Alice join in on the calls, but I saw a bathroom door and darted inside, racing into the stall and slamming it shut behind me.

CHAPTER TEN

“Doris?” Sylvie called into the bathroom. Her voice echoed and bounced off the stone walls, but I sat quietly on the toilet pretending I didn’t hear her. “Doris? I know you’re in here. Come out and talk to me.”

“No.” I sniffled and wiped a sleeve across my nose. “Just leave me alone.”

Her kitten heels clicked across the floor, and her shadow stretched under the stall door when she stopped just outside it. “Doris. Let me in.”

“Just go away.”

“Alice was out of line. I’m so sorry we embarrassed you.”

“It was embarrassing. And... it’s more than that.” I struggled to identify all the emotions churning inside me. Embarrassment topped the list, but others mingled with it, confusing me even more.

“What else is it, Doris? Talk to me. Open the door.”

I swiped at a tear with the back of my hand. “Just go, Sylvie. I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“Fine. If you won’t open the door, I’m coming under.”

“What? Sylvie!” But before I could argue, her shadow contracted, and her head appeared beneath the stall.

“God, I hope they cleaned these floors,” she said as she slid under. When she popped up in front of me, she dusted off her shirt and swiped a hand across her pants. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but only sobs came out.

Sylvie leaned down and pulled me into a hug. “It’s okay, Doris. Everything will be okay.”

“You in here?” Marge shouted from the doorway, her rough voice booming through the vacant room.

“We’re in here, Marge,” Sylvie responded.

“Where?” Alice asked.

“Third stall,” Sylvie called.

Two more shadows appeared under the door.

“You coming out?” Marge asked.

I shook my head, and Sylvie answered back. “She’s not coming out.”

“Then let us in,” Alice said.

“No. I just want to be—” Before I could finish the sentence, Sylvie unlocked the door and pressed against the slate grey wall. Alice and Marge squeezed in beside her and closed the door behind them.

“You alright?” Marge asked in the softest voice she was capable of.

“No.” I sniffled again.

“I’m sorry, Doris.” Alice reached out and touched my shoulder, but I shrugged it off. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just trying to help.”

“By pimping me out to some man in a restaurant?” I spat, shocked by the force in my own voice. “That is you helping?”