Page 23 of Maid in America

The distracted Maid of Honor.

She wasn’t sure why she’d asked to get her old job back when she returned. Tonight, she just wanted to drown herself in hops and male attention the second she peeled out of the boutique’s parking lot.

The bearded man beside her was now gawking expectantly, waiting for a response to an inquiry she’d been too disinterested in to hear.

“Hmmmm?” she hummed.

“I said, you have beautiful eyes. Are they real? Or are they fake? Likecontacts?”

“Everything on me is real, honey,” she said with a flirtatious wink and hopped off the bar stool. “Thanks for the drink. See you around.”

“Hey. I’m a nice guy ’n all, so I’m not gonna be a dick, but, you know,usually, it’s customary to at leastpretendyou’re interested in the fella spendin’ twelve dollars on a dollar-fifty beer,” he grumbled, smile falling. “Just sayin’…”

She offered the long-neck to him. “Oh, sorry. My bad. You want it back?”

“Nevermind. Just… get lost.” He waved her away, cursing under his breath at her sarcastic retort.

Chastity rolled her eyes and sauntered away.

This is why you are going to end up alone like some… harlot spinster,Chastity could almost hear her mother say.Your abhorrent behavior brings shame to the Lord… and tous…

According to her folks, ‘God-fearing Christians’ don’t frequent seedy bars. They don’t talk back to their parents or avoid church like the plague. And theycertainlydon’t go back to random apartments with hot men who have deltoids made of solid rock…

LikeBarrett’s.

But wasn’t Noah adrunkard?

And, hell, PaulmurderedChristians.

Yet, according to the Bible and her father’s Sunday sermons, those men were still allegedly aspirational.So.. why wasshesomehow so unlovable?Why had she fallen so far from their good graces by simply existing?

She supposed it was fate. Some women were destined for riches and fame, some for exciting careers, some for political and social endeavors, some for squeezing out a litter of children…

And then, there was Chastity…

An unstable contrarian with fried-and-dyed hair that seemed to do nothing but irritate the people in her life.

She took another long swig of her beer and silently wished she’d asked for something stronger to help her escape reality, even if just for a while. Still, the bottle of foamy hops soothed a little of her worry and washed away a tiny bit of the disappointment about herself that she’d clung to for the last few months.

Chastity graduating college was the untruth that her mother was pushing publicly, despite what the Bible says about lies, white or otherwise. Maggie was too embarrassed to utter the truth:My daughter flunked out of veterinary school before graduation. She couldn’t hack it. Not even for four more short, stupid months.

The diagnosis changed Chastity’s life, one that scared her, shook her confidence, and made her come crawling back to Jackson to live with her parents. Now, she felt like no one really knew her.

Including herself.

She scanned the room for attractive men, but her mind reeled with thoughts of the glossy pamphlet she’d been given, the one with the damning bold letters that read:

Living Well with Bipolar Disorder.

She recalled the overgeneralized suggestions within its folds almost as if they were memorized lines from a high school play. They were all things that seemed obvious but felt impossible.

Adopt a regular sleep schedule. Exhaustion can trigger mood episodes.

Chastity couldn’t remember the last time she got a full night’s sleep or went to bed at a regular time.

Maintain a regular exercise routine. Exercise releases endorphins, which can improve mood.

That part always made Chastity laugh. So does having sex. That’s considered cardio, right?

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