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“Glad you asked, Cindy!” she chirps happily, sticking her hand down the front of her shirt and pulling a folded piece of paper out of her cleavage before holding it out to me.
I grimace, taking a step back from the paper she’s thrusting toward me, refusing to touch something that has been burrowed down in between the assets she has on display for God and the entire neighborhood to see.
“My name is Cynthia, not Cindy,” I inform her, still refusing to take the paper from her hands.
“Whatever,” she mutters with a roll of her eyes, not unlike Anastasia moments ago. “And my name is Ariel, not homewrecker or redheaded harlot. I know all you busybodies on this street have nothing better to do with your time than gossip about me ever since I moved in, and this is just going to add fuel to the fire, but I don’t give a shit.”
I wince at her crass language, and my eyes widen in shock when she moves closer to me in the doorway, unfolding the paper in her hands as she gets right up into my personal space.
I have no choice but to grab on to the paper when she rudely smacks it against my chest.
“What in the world . . . ,” I mumble in a shocked voice, pulling the paper away from my chest as I stare at the woman standing in front of me.
“That’s a doctor bill, Cindy. Tell that lying, scum-sucking piece of donkey dick you call a husband he owes me two hundred and forty-five dollars for the test, seventy-five dollars for the prescription, and if he can contort his body enough, I’d really like him to go fuck himself,” Ariel announces, letting out a huge sigh as she backs away from me, turns her face up to the sky, closes her eyes, and smiles. “Wow, that felt good. Better than I thought it would. I’ve been burning incense for a week, did three juice cleanses, and attended seven hot yoga classes, and nothing felt better than getting that off my chest. Thanks, Cindy. You’re a peach.”
With that, Ariel turns and starts walking down the steps, leaving me in the doorway with my mouth dropped open, wondering what in the devil just happened.
Shaking myself out of my stupor, I race out of the doorway and down the steps after her.
“Excuse me! Could you please explain to me what exactly you’re talking about and what my husband has to do with this?” I shout after her, my feet stuttering to a stop when I see a woman walking down the sidewalk glance in our direction. The beep of a car being locked forces my gaze away from her, noticing a man I’ve never seen in this neighborhood before. He’s standing in the middle of the street next to a black truck with his key fob in his hand, staring right at me. His piercing blue eyes make goosebumps break out on my arms, and I almost forget why I’m standing in the middle of my front yard until I notice a smirk on his face. That smirk is what stops me from appreciating anything about the dimple I can see in his cheek, or how nicely he can fill out a pair of black slacks and a white button-down.
I can’t believe I just shouted across my front lawn like an unrefined woman with no manners.
Turning my head away from the rude man who still continues looking across the street at me, I push him out of my thoughts before I start doing the math on how long it’s been since a man looked at me like that—slightly amused and wondering what I might look like without my clothes on. Giving the woman walking by, who I don’t recognize, a shaky wave and a smile as she drops her head back down to the book she’s holding in her hands, I continue moving again until I catch up with Ariel.
“Pardon me, but could you please tell me what’s going on?” I ask again, this time in a hushed voice.
Ariel finally stops walking and turns around to face me, pointing at the now-crumpled paper still clutched in my hand.
“It’s all there on the bill, Cindy. Tell Brian thanks for the herpes. I guess what happens on Fairytale Lane doesn’t always stay on Fairytale Lane. Am I right, or am I right?” she laughs, giving me a light punch on the arm.
My body sways to the side and little sparkles of light creep into the edge of my vision. The last thing I see before I crumple to the ground in my front yard are a bunch of weeds right at Ariel’s feet that I know I’ll never be able to afford to get removed. As the blackness takes over, I mentally add find a job and pay for herpes to my to-do list, realizing that THIS must truly be rock bottom.
