reach orgasm with a woman as attractive as that?
“This is ridiculous.” Cynthia certainly wasn’t having any sexual dysfunction over the break up. Rebecca was certain of that. The woman had no conscience. “What did I ever see in you?” Rebecca wondered aloud.
She knew the answer. Cynthia was sleek, and confident, and very, very persuasive. She had the ability to make any woman think she was the center of the universe…until she got bored or got everything she thought she could get out of the relationship.
Rebecca finished her shower, toweled herself off on the bathmat, and stood looking in the mirror. Her breasts were high and firm. Her belly was flat. There was no hint of the overweight, awkward teenager she’d been, except in her head. In her head, she couldn’t shake the memories of the taunting cruelty of her peers, the very same peers who most likely were still, at this moment, laughing it up at the reunion, every bit as immature and insufferable as they had been twenty years ago.
Again, Rebecca wondered what had possessed her to come to the reunion. Then her mind flashed on the image of Sharon, head thrown back, lost in a moment of pure pleasure, and she smiled. The connection with her made the trip all worthwhile. Despite the way the night turned out, Rebecca easily could envision Sharon showing up one day in her Middlebury office, offering to take her to dinner. And it wouldn’t be the least bit uncomfortable.
Rebecca snorted. Maybe by then she’d be sufficiently recovered from the Cynthia trauma to truly enjoy herself.
CHAPTER SIX
The arrow rested ominously on the Play button icon as Dara’s finger hovered above the track pad. She was fully dressed for day two at the hospital and had been for an hour. Several times, she’d clicked on Play and then, just as quickly, on Pause. Although she’d been up for a long time, she’d been unable to shake off the remnants of the dream. The idea of listening to more of what her mother thought she ought to know had her stomach in knots.
Dara thought about her time at the hospital yesterday. The person the nurse described was nothing like the mother she remembered. It was possible her mother’s monologue would get better. Wasn’t it? Shouldn’t she give her the benefit of the doubt?
She rubbed her damp palms on her pressed slacks. Visiting hours would be starting soon and she needed to get back to the hospital. There was no point putting it off any longer. Dara pushed Play and resigned herself to hearing her mother out.
“Anyway, I don’t want to dwell on all that.” Her mother was wracked by another coughing spasm. “It was a long time ago and there’s no use revisiting what I’m sure must be painful memories for both of us.”
The covers rustled and Dara’s mother groaned in pain.
“Yes, I suspect it might come as a surprise to you that I recognize how difficult that time must’ve been for you. I wasn’t completely unsympathetic, Dara, despite what you might think. I was simply out of my league when it came to dealing with a child. Period. And you weren’t just any child. You were bright, inquisitive, head strong, and that imagination… Well, who could keep up with it, or you? In the end, it just seemed easier to give you a wide berth than to constantly fight with you.”
Dara paused the recording, closed her eyes, and willed herself not to cry. Again. All the familiar feelings of loneliness, isolation, and abandonment, all the days and nights when she’d longed for her mother to take her in her arms and tell her she was loved and valued—every painful moment bubbled up from deep within her, threatening to swallow Dara whole.
“Enough.” She’d shed enough tears over her childhood. That time was done and gone. There was no sense mourning it at this late stage. Dara got up and poured herself a glass of water and took a big gulp before sitting back down. She could get through this. She had to. She pressed Play.
“I’m not
“This is ridiculous.” Cynthia certainly wasn’t having any sexual dysfunction over the break up. Rebecca was certain of that. The woman had no conscience. “What did I ever see in you?” Rebecca wondered aloud.
She knew the answer. Cynthia was sleek, and confident, and very, very persuasive. She had the ability to make any woman think she was the center of the universe…until she got bored or got everything she thought she could get out of the relationship.
Rebecca finished her shower, toweled herself off on the bathmat, and stood looking in the mirror. Her breasts were high and firm. Her belly was flat. There was no hint of the overweight, awkward teenager she’d been, except in her head. In her head, she couldn’t shake the memories of the taunting cruelty of her peers, the very same peers who most likely were still, at this moment, laughing it up at the reunion, every bit as immature and insufferable as they had been twenty years ago.
Again, Rebecca wondered what had possessed her to come to the reunion. Then her mind flashed on the image of Sharon, head thrown back, lost in a moment of pure pleasure, and she smiled. The connection with her made the trip all worthwhile. Despite the way the night turned out, Rebecca easily could envision Sharon showing up one day in her Middlebury office, offering to take her to dinner. And it wouldn’t be the least bit uncomfortable.
Rebecca snorted. Maybe by then she’d be sufficiently recovered from the Cynthia trauma to truly enjoy herself.
CHAPTER SIX
The arrow rested ominously on the Play button icon as Dara’s finger hovered above the track pad. She was fully dressed for day two at the hospital and had been for an hour. Several times, she’d clicked on Play and then, just as quickly, on Pause. Although she’d been up for a long time, she’d been unable to shake off the remnants of the dream. The idea of listening to more of what her mother thought she ought to know had her stomach in knots.
Dara thought about her time at the hospital yesterday. The person the nurse described was nothing like the mother she remembered. It was possible her mother’s monologue would get better. Wasn’t it? Shouldn’t she give her the benefit of the doubt?
She rubbed her damp palms on her pressed slacks. Visiting hours would be starting soon and she needed to get back to the hospital. There was no point putting it off any longer. Dara pushed Play and resigned herself to hearing her mother out.
“Anyway, I don’t want to dwell on all that.” Her mother was wracked by another coughing spasm. “It was a long time ago and there’s no use revisiting what I’m sure must be painful memories for both of us.”
The covers rustled and Dara’s mother groaned in pain.
“Yes, I suspect it might come as a surprise to you that I recognize how difficult that time must’ve been for you. I wasn’t completely unsympathetic, Dara, despite what you might think. I was simply out of my league when it came to dealing with a child. Period. And you weren’t just any child. You were bright, inquisitive, head strong, and that imagination… Well, who could keep up with it, or you? In the end, it just seemed easier to give you a wide berth than to constantly fight with you.”
Dara paused the recording, closed her eyes, and willed herself not to cry. Again. All the familiar feelings of loneliness, isolation, and abandonment, all the days and nights when she’d longed for her mother to take her in her arms and tell her she was loved and valued—every painful moment bubbled up from deep within her, threatening to swallow Dara whole.
“Enough.” She’d shed enough tears over her childhood. That time was done and gone. There was no sense mourning it at this late stage. Dara got up and poured herself a glass of water and took a big gulp before sitting back down. She could get through this. She had to. She pressed Play.
“I’m not
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