Page 52 of Love Bitters

Jolene and I glance at each other across the bar between us as Blythe takes that last step, invading Maisie's personal life. "Then why don't you want them in your house?"

It's the final strike of her patience, obvious by the way she rounds on Blythe with, "Why do you like knowing everybody's business? Why is it so important to strip every single person you meet down to the bone? What if we did that to you? Why don't you tell us why you were seeing a therapist who suggested you join us for this?"

Blythe's lips press into a thin line for a few seconds. Never losing eye contact with Maisie, she discloses, "I was court-mandated to attend therapy last year after I broke someone's window with a brick. I had anger issues, and the asshole almost ran me off the road into the ditch, so I followed him home and threw a brick through his pretty little BMW. My first therapist suggested that I use rage and sex as a defense mechanism to make up for my parents never being around to make me feel loved. That was before I fucked him, then he resigned and moved out of state."

"Woah," Jade blurts out. "Have you slept with Dr. Geoff too?"

Blythe's nose wrinkles in distaste. "Don't be ridiculous. As much as I can appreciate a man with a little bit of salt and pepper, that dude could be the crypt keeper's brother." Switching her attention back to Maisie, she adds, "Answered your questions. Now, why don’t you like having the flowers from your husband in your house?"

Maisie's chin lifts a little higher in defiance before she replies, "I don't like the stupid things in my house because they are a constant, daily reminder that the asshole ran off and left me to burn in that fire.”

"What's wrong? That not juicy enough for you?" she demands in response to Blythe's widened eyes and slight drop in her haughty expression. "He woke up on the couch where he’d fallen asleep working, already choking on smoke. Then proceeded to run out of the building, calling 911 as he left. Not once did he even consider looking to make sure I was out, nor did he come back inside for me once he realized I wasn't. I can forgive the second, but not the first. Those guilty flowers are my personal taste of hell every day they arrive. I may be pissed off at the asshole, but I'm not wasteful, so I find places or people who would appreciate the flowers instead of just trashing them."

Blythe winces and apologizes, leaving most of our jaws dropping. "Sorry. I didn't think it was something as serious as that. But don't you feel better after getting that off your chest?"

Maisie takes a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh. I'm pretty sure she considers stabbing the girl with a plastic spork, but after a few moments, she admits, "It didn't feel all that bad, to be honest. Better than the ridiculous group therapy thing I go to now where people pretend to know what I'm going through even though we all know they've never been abandoned to die by someone they love."

"This might be a stupid question," Abilene starts, "but the flowers are delivered? You guys didn't get a new place afterward?"

"Would you?" Maisie clips. "No. The skin on half my body looks like melted plastic. I have to look at myself in the mirror everyday and see what could've been prevented. If he truly loved me, he would've at least checked. I would have. We said ‘Til death do us part,’ and I meant my half. As stupid and cliche as it sounds, I would've died for him. Now we're halfway through a divorce that he refuses to accept because my amazing counselor told us both that it's just my grief. Even if there was a way to look exactly the same as I did before, I'd still hate him. It's not just about the scars."

"I'd say that's as good a reason as any to be in an anti-love book club, wouldn't you?" Penelope offers, reaching out to take her hand.

Blythe turns her attention to her. "Why did you join? Other than the tree hugging hippie thing, you seem perfectly normal."

"Seriously?" Jade asks incredulously, taking the word right off the tip of my tongue.

She simply shrugs, but it's Penelope that replies with a smile, "Sorry, but your curiosity will just have to wait until next time. Maisie just laid her heart on this countertop, and I won't be trying to overshadow her pain. But thanks for being so kind as to ask."

At this point, I'm not sure which is better, Blythe being put in her place with Maisie's confession or her being knocked to the bottom rung on the ladder with Penelope's kindness. Maybe some of it will rub off on her. Lord knows she needs it. My guilty gaze drifts down to the napkin I'd been unknowingly tearing to pieces while Maisie spoke. That inner voice sounded so much like my mother that it's left a bad taste in my mouth. I can't seem to shake it either as everyone says their goodbyes. When Jolene asks if I'm okay, I give her the best answer I can, telling her that I'm tired. Which isn't a lie. I've been exhausted lately, be it from the baby or sex or mentally trying to process it all at once. Something is draining my energy like a leech, but telling anyone would be taking the risk of them treating me like I'm a fragile china doll, so I haven't spoken the real truth to any of them.

Unfortunately, I didn't think about the ride home with Abilene, who is no doubt in cahoots with Jolene and persistent in making me talk about it. I manage to dodge the more serious questions until I allow her to follow me inside my apartment.

"I'm okay, honestly," I tell her. "The baby is just eating all of my energy, so I've been more tired than usual lately."

"The past two weeks, you mean?" she supplies, setting her purse down on the table and taking a seat as I go to make us drinks. "Have you told them that all the extra fun is making you feel this way?"

I roll my eyes to the ceiling, which I doubt she sees since my back is turned, and say, "Yeah, right. I just got them back, Abi. If I tell them anything, they're going to flip out, and I won't get touched until well after the baby is born. I've been without any affection for so long. It feels amazing to have them hold me at night, and it makes me happy."

Setting her drink in front of her, I ask, "Doesn't that count for anything?"

The stripe of hair that she leaves unshaved is getting long enough to droop on one side, and it sways with the slight shake of her head. Her smile is broad when she replies, "I can't fault you for that. Being alone can put a person in some seriously dark times. With that said, I still think you should find a way to tell them. Maybe just slow things down a little with the sex if it's what's responsible for the exhaustion."

"I think it's a bit of everything," I admit. "Yes, I work then go straight there where I'm with at least one of them a night, but it's also a variety of other things, too."

"Like what?" she asks.

Sighing loudly, I confess, "I don't even know where to start. How about the fact that I haven't even told my parents that they're going to be grandparents in a couple months? Or, that there are a hundred plus things I feel like I still need to buy before the baby gets here. As soon as my head goes down that route, I start wondering how in the hell I'm supposed to raise a child when I was brought up the way I was."

Abilene gives a short nod, replying, "It's true that the methods may have been harsh, but look at you. You turned out pretty damn awesome, and I'm sure the baby will be exactly the same. I can't help with telling your parents, but I can with the things left to buy. Start a list and we'll work our way down it until you and the baby have everything you need."

"Thanks," I tell her gratefully, trying not to cry. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate having you as a friend right now."

She shrugs with a soft smile. "I assure you, the feeling is mutual. You've listened to me complain about my life for months now. Just yesterday, you let me drown my sorrows in the last of your Moose Tracks ice cream. If that's not friendship, then I don't know what is."

We both laugh together before she adds, "I vote you do your list digitally, too. That way we can keep up with everything that we buy without worrying about losing a paper copy. There's a website I recommend on top of the most obvious one that everyone uses for everything."

She sends me a quick text with the link as she says, "I may or may not have done a little research, and this one is just for the moms, not the baby. They've got everything, even some things that are super weird and questionable. Maybe you can explain them."

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