Page 73 of Full Circle

I snorted. “Nobody listens to the radio anymore, Mags.”

She shrugged. “That’s probably why I was able to win the tickets. C’mon, I wanna go! And I can’t go alone! Poor Zeke would hate to learn you let me go into Savannah by myself at night.”

Well, Maggie had me there. Zeke wasn’t the sort of man to put hands on a woman, but being on the receiving end of his disappointment was akin to disappointing a saint. Tourists might believe the propaganda that Savannah was a safe city, but anyone who lived in the area knew otherwise. A solo woman downtown at a party was not the best choice.

“I don’t have anything to wear to a costume party,” I argued.

“Then it’s a good thing we now have all day to get ready,” Maggie countered, crossing her arms over her chest. Her obstinance would be my undoing someday.

“Marla, I feel so guilty!” I cried.

She waved a hand at me to dismiss my sentiment. “You deserve a night off, honey. You’re working yourself to death.”

A costume party did sound fun. It had been so long since I had a night out. I was either at The Comfy Cushion far later than I should have been or at home helping Iris with her schoolwork. Still, as a mother, it wasn’t like I could just up and leave her for the day.

“What about Iris?”

“She’s gonna have a slumber party with her favorite auntie tonight, of course,” Marla explained with a smile. Friday was the one night of the week where Iris didn’t have a class or some sort of ballet commitment. Our usual routine consisted of her hanging out at the counter of the diner, just like I used to do, then heading home to watch a movie in our pajamas. It wasn’t exactly groundbreaking but it was our ritual just the same. I didn’t want to disappoint her by skipping it.

“Nope, we’re not doing this!” Maggie stood up and walked around the counter to me, firmly placing both hands on my shoulders to stare me down. “Get out of that head of yours, Celeste Hendricks. You are allowed to have your own adult fun. It doesn’t make you a bad mom.”

If only it was that simple to turn my brain off. I was an overthinker; the more you pointed it out to me, the more my brain overthought it.

I sighed heavily. Money was a sore subject since I didn’t want to outright admit to Maggie how much Desiree took from me, but I also knew she would offer to pay for whatever I needed if I raised it as an argument. Zeke didn’t make a ton of money from being in the Army, but he certainly made enough to provide for the two of them. Every now and again Maggie would go work at a salon to keep up with her cosmetology license, but it bored her to tears to perform the same haircuts all the time, so it never lasted long.

“C’mon,” my friend said, clearly believing she won the battle. “We’re gonna go thrifting and find some fun costumes!”

Three hours later, we were in our third thrift store in Savannah. Nothing I found would satisfy Maggie, who wanted me to be some sort of provocative vixen—something I most definitely was not.

“How come you can be an old lady and I can’t?” I whined. Her muumuu dress, beige orthotic shoes, and frizzy gray wig were hilarious.

She rolled her eyes like the answer was obvious. “Because no one is gonna wanna bang you tonight if you look like a grandma!”

That brought me up short, colliding into a display of handbags. “I am NOT having a one night stand,” I hissed at her through clenched teeth.

“You’re right. Hopefully you’ll start a relationship!”

“Maggie…” She knew this was a dangerous topic for me. I hadn’t dated anyone other than Wesley, and despite all the years between us, I didn’t think I was ready to date again. Certainly not as a solo mom working a million hours a week.

Her brown eyes were warm but firm as she assessed me. Maggie stayed by my side through Wesley’s disappearance, through my pregnancy, and then as a teen mom. She never once complained that we had to stay in so I could be home with Iris or protested when all our movie nights turned to animated Disney cartoons for my daughter to watch. When we were in the newborn stage, she was one of the few people who ever watched Iris so I could get some sleep or take a shower long enough to wash my hair and body. Even though I never told her the full details of what happened at the hospital or the horrible fight Wesley and I had the morning my father died, she didn’t question my decision to cut him out completely to preserve what was left of my heart. Maggie had been just as aggrieved when candid tabloid photos of Wesley with models and celebrities appeared in the papers. After all, he had been her friend, too.

“Cee, you know I love you more than my own family. I have respected every decision you’ve made in your personal life, whether it made sense to me or not.” She grimaced before continuing. “But it’s time to let him go. There’s a reason the rear view mirror is smaller than the windshield.”

How could I tell her that letting go hurt too much? That I was so used to numbing everything and everyone out just to function, that I wasn’t ready to stare down the future knowing Wesley wasn’t in it? Grief had permanently altered me as a human being, and I was in so deep now that I couldn’t tell if it was from the death of my parents or losing the person who mattered most to me. Life kept dealing me a shit hand, so I just accepted it was the way it was.

“It’s not that simple,” I settled on as a reply.

Her brow furrowed. “Then it’s time to roll out the welcome wagon for your vagina.”

We both burst out laughing.

“I don’t even wanna think about how dry and dusty you must be down there!” she giggled.

When I could take in enough air, I wiped the tears from my eyes. “There’s something wrong with you, Mags! I already said, no one night stands!”

She nodded. “Then we’ll have to settle for a one night blowie.” Her grin told me how determined she was to make that happen before the night was through.

However, I was distracted by a mannequin visible just over her right shoulder. Pointing to the dress on it, I asked, “What d’you reckon?”

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