Page 7 of Arse Over Irish Teacup
“I have?” Beth considered it. “I have, haven’t I!”
“You were born with an optimism gene. Sure, you have bad days like the rest of us, but they never get you down. Not really. This is your grief talking. Don’t let this change you. You are curvy but you’ve got the nicest ass!”
“Lauren!”
“What? It’s true. I couldn’t get curves like yours no matter how hard I tried.”
“You don’t need curves, you’re built like a supermodel.”
“A supermodel who’s given birth three times. Believe me, under this dress it's all sagging and scars and stretch marks.”
“Now who sounds morose?”
“Don’t you dare!” Lauren slapped Beth’s shoulder. “It looks great on you. You’ve got the nicest ass now! Before you had a bony ass and a flat chest.”
“I did? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“Tell you what? ‘Hey Beth, start eating more ding dongs so you pack on a few pounds?’”
Beth sighed. “And is it just my imagination or am I getting wings?” She held up her arm and shook it, and Lauren did the same.
“We both are. Age and gravity are catching up with us.”
“Could it catch up a little slower, please? I still have unfulfilled dreams of a husband and family I want to come true.”
“Don’t worry about it. You look great. Nothing will change that. Not your weight, or wings. You’re irresistible.”
“Yeah, to all the wrong men.”
“Your time is coming. I can feel it.”
They fell silent for a minute. Forcing yourself to laugh through your tears is exhausting.
“Kind of like when you felt the shivers run up your spine when Jason Voorhees was in the window?”
“You were just as scared as I was! What child wouldn’t be scared to hear scratching on their window only to turn around and see the face of pure, murderous evil itself!” Lauren threw back a drink. “How old were we?”
Beth swallowed another sip. “Nine.”
“You know, come to think of it, Gram was a wicked cow.”
Beth and Lauren both burst into laughter with Beth spewing whiskey all over the floor. Once she got control of herself, she raised her glass. “To Gram.”
“She was a hell of a woman.”
“She was the best.”
Just then, Gram’s hand slid off the side of the mattress, clunking Bethany on the head.
ChapterFour
Beth wokeup to the sound of cheerful chirping gold finches outside her window. She opened her eyes and blinked in the morning sun invading her room. Outside it was a beautiful Spring day. Normally the sound and sight would have made her smile but there wasn’t much to make her smile this morning. All she wanted was for this day to be done and over with. She swung her legs out of bed and scratched her fingertips into her curls while she yawned fiercely. Tea, that’s what she desperately needed. She stood up and put her arms through her yellow daisy-printed bathrobe and headed for the kitchen.
The house was too quiet.
Much too quiet.
Even the air was quiet.
