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"Where is she?"
"Not here."
"Then where?" I ground my teeth in an effort to be civil and not take the three lengths that separated us and drive his smarmy head into the tiled floor. He may have a few muscles on him, but I threw around fifty pounds worth of lumber, duct work, and pipe every day.
"When she's ready to see you, she'll call you."
I surged toward him, but a pair of small hands caught me. I looked down to see another pair of blue gloves resting against my chest. The ink seeped into my white T-shirt, but the curly-haired co-worker of Winter’s didn't care. She pushed me back.
"Not here. You know Winter wouldn't like that."
I nodded, jerkily as some semblance of sense seeped into my rage thickened brain. Winter told me this was her family and I couldn’t go around decking someone she considered her brother. The last thing I wanted was make her hate me for some other reason. I held up my hands and took another step back.
"I just want to know where she is."
The woman gave me a small smile. "Let her come to you."
That was shitty advice.
I did the only thing I could. I went home and rented that stupid movie.
"This is the worst fucking movie I have ever seen. There are no decent men in this flick. Everyone's an asshole," I complained when Adam wandered in.
"What are you watching?" He joined me on the couch.
"The Joy Luck Club."
"Do you still have balls, or did the Donovan sisters chop them off."
"Fuck you," I tossed back. "Winter told me this story about always feeling like the second wife, and now that she's found out about Ivy, that's how she feels. Second wife, never first. She got that stupid fucking idea from this movie. I blame the Donovans for this. They shouldn't have allowed their daughter to watch this trash," I ranted.
"What are you watching?"
It was Lana, our resident psychologist who by virtue of having been in therapy since she was eleven and now majoring in psych at Central College, who enjoyed analyzing our sick lives to her textbook diagnoses. She'd have a field day with my situation.
"The Joy Luck Club," Adam replied when I didn't.
"I love this movie,” she exclaimed and joined us on the couch.
Of course she did.
"So listen, Lana, I have a psychological dilemma for you," Adam began. I shot him warning looks, but he ignored me. And I couldn't forcefully shut him up because that would've tipped Lana off.
"Lay it on me." She turned toward him and tucked her hair behind her ears as if ready to take notes on this great case. My fucking life.
"I dated this girl in high school. Three years, and then her parents died. She turned into this raging alcoholic, cheated on me repeatedly, so I broke up with her."
"Is this why you can't settle down? I wondered why you flitted from one girl to another, but this explains it. A girl broke your heart, and now you can't trust again."
"What? No," Adam protested. "This isn't about me. This is a friend."
"Sure it is." Lana nodded with exaggerated patience. "Tell me more about your 'friend.'" She held up her fingers to form the quotation signs. Adam's aggrieved look made me laugh for the first time since the party when it all went to hell.
Adam sighed. "Okay, so my friend dated this chick in high school and then broke up with her. Fast forward several years."
"How many is several?"
"Five." I held up six fingers behind Lana's back. Adam rolled his eyes but corrected himself. "Six years. He has a one-night stand with the sister of this chick, falls in love. The ex-girlfriend is all upset that the sister is going out with my friend. She basically has the girl break up with my friend. Why?"
