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Authors: Nancy Barone
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keeping secrets.”
I kept my evil—and suspicious—eye trained on her until she buckled and waved her half-empty glass, the liquid sloshing around dangerously near the rim, and sighed.
My hands found my half-moon again, squeezing the handles tight. “What did he say?”
“Oh, lots of things.”
Christ, if Marcy had suddenly become Ira’s confidante, he must’ve been desperate. Or very crafty. She’s the only one in the family who would gang up against me. Even Judy and Vince would support me. “Like what?”
“That you grind your teeth at night. Go see Dr. Jacobs, no?” she said simply.
Obviously he wasn’t telling her everything. How dare he talk to my mother about my faults when all I seemed to do was put up with his?
“He also says you’re still going on about Tuscany after all these years. What an absurd idea, Erica. What are you going to do in Tuscany?”
I didn’t even need to think about it as I chopped away. “Be happy.”
“But you’d be all on your own. We have very few relatives left there.”
“Suits me,” I sentenced as I began to dice some onions to a pulp. After all, I wouldn’t be on my own. Paul spent six months a year in Europe.
“Is it because of your bedroom problems?”
“Wha-at? I’m not talking about that to you.”
“Oh, get over yourself. You need to learn the secrets of keeping your man. Good sex. ”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Marcy, get real.”
“I am real,” she assured me. “You think I kept your dad on a leash all these years because I was a good cook?”
Highly unlikely , I thought to myself, and seeing the look on my face, she nodded. “Exactly. It was the sex .”
Today, singledom didn’t scare me. And I definitely wouldn’t go back on the shelves again because I wouldn’t be interested in being picked. Not that there was any danger of that happening. I’d probably end up with some deluded, divorced guy and we’d end up pouring our hearts out to each other on Date One. Pathetic.
Besides, I didn’t need a man. I had everything I needed. Great kids. A fantastic job. A good house. And Paul. If I could afford to take the kids to Tuscany right now, I’d go in a heartbeat.
“If you’d only listened to me and gone ahead with the operation instead of running like a mouse. Really, you’d have solved all of your problems. I told you how important sex is; why can’t you understand?”
Obviously Ira hadn’t confided in her completely, the slimy bastard.
“He was cheating on me,” I said as I chopped away, pretending it was Ira’s neck over and over. Chop! Goes the dick’s head.
“What?” Marcy said.
“He’s sleeping with someone else,” I repeated, big tears plopping onto my ingredients for tonight’s special—Miserable Minestrone.
“You see?” she said simply. “Sex. It’s all men want, and if you can’t give it to them then they look somewhere else. Now take my advice—go reschedule the op and see if he’ll give you a few months to change.”
I whirled around to look at her. I was the one that had to change? What friggin’ planet did she live on? In that moment, more than ever, I realized that Marcy and I would never ever be able to speak the same language, and that I was never going back upon any of my decisions. Life changes included.
Somewhere deep inside me, there was an amazing Erica waiting to burst out of my heavy life.
Chapter 8:
Dieting Disasters?
I t was like there was this big pink elephant in the room all these years and everyone saw it but me. I was the pink elephant that needed to go on a diet pronto.
It was never going to be fun but I started on Monday. And religiously broke it by the time Wednesday rolled around despite the fact I spent most of my free time with Paul, who was lighter than me, ate properly, and in small quantities—not like me, the garbage incinerator. I could eat anyone under the table. Figured I’d run into someone like him.
“You need to do it for yourself, not for Marcy’s
I kept my evil—and suspicious—eye trained on her until she buckled and waved her half-empty glass, the liquid sloshing around dangerously near the rim, and sighed.
My hands found my half-moon again, squeezing the handles tight. “What did he say?”
“Oh, lots of things.”
Christ, if Marcy had suddenly become Ira’s confidante, he must’ve been desperate. Or very crafty. She’s the only one in the family who would gang up against me. Even Judy and Vince would support me. “Like what?”
“That you grind your teeth at night. Go see Dr. Jacobs, no?” she said simply.
Obviously he wasn’t telling her everything. How dare he talk to my mother about my faults when all I seemed to do was put up with his?
“He also says you’re still going on about Tuscany after all these years. What an absurd idea, Erica. What are you going to do in Tuscany?”
I didn’t even need to think about it as I chopped away. “Be happy.”
“But you’d be all on your own. We have very few relatives left there.”
“Suits me,” I sentenced as I began to dice some onions to a pulp. After all, I wouldn’t be on my own. Paul spent six months a year in Europe.
“Is it because of your bedroom problems?”
“Wha-at? I’m not talking about that to you.”
“Oh, get over yourself. You need to learn the secrets of keeping your man. Good sex. ”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Marcy, get real.”
“I am real,” she assured me. “You think I kept your dad on a leash all these years because I was a good cook?”
Highly unlikely , I thought to myself, and seeing the look on my face, she nodded. “Exactly. It was the sex .”
Today, singledom didn’t scare me. And I definitely wouldn’t go back on the shelves again because I wouldn’t be interested in being picked. Not that there was any danger of that happening. I’d probably end up with some deluded, divorced guy and we’d end up pouring our hearts out to each other on Date One. Pathetic.
Besides, I didn’t need a man. I had everything I needed. Great kids. A fantastic job. A good house. And Paul. If I could afford to take the kids to Tuscany right now, I’d go in a heartbeat.
“If you’d only listened to me and gone ahead with the operation instead of running like a mouse. Really, you’d have solved all of your problems. I told you how important sex is; why can’t you understand?”
Obviously Ira hadn’t confided in her completely, the slimy bastard.
“He was cheating on me,” I said as I chopped away, pretending it was Ira’s neck over and over. Chop! Goes the dick’s head.
“What?” Marcy said.
“He’s sleeping with someone else,” I repeated, big tears plopping onto my ingredients for tonight’s special—Miserable Minestrone.
“You see?” she said simply. “Sex. It’s all men want, and if you can’t give it to them then they look somewhere else. Now take my advice—go reschedule the op and see if he’ll give you a few months to change.”
I whirled around to look at her. I was the one that had to change? What friggin’ planet did she live on? In that moment, more than ever, I realized that Marcy and I would never ever be able to speak the same language, and that I was never going back upon any of my decisions. Life changes included.
Somewhere deep inside me, there was an amazing Erica waiting to burst out of my heavy life.
Chapter 8:
Dieting Disasters?
I t was like there was this big pink elephant in the room all these years and everyone saw it but me. I was the pink elephant that needed to go on a diet pronto.
It was never going to be fun but I started on Monday. And religiously broke it by the time Wednesday rolled around despite the fact I spent most of my free time with Paul, who was lighter than me, ate properly, and in small quantities—not like me, the garbage incinerator. I could eat anyone under the table. Figured I’d run into someone like him.
“You need to do it for yourself, not for Marcy’s
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