Page 47 of The Wilder Widows

I stepped back up to the railing and glanced to the women at my sides. Reaching behind me, I unhooked my bra and watched their eyes turn into orbs as I grabbed the bottom of my shirt. “Are we doing this?”

“Hell yeah!” Alice unhooked her bra and grinned.

“I feel like we’re at Mardi Gras!” Sylvie laughed while she followed suit and got into position.

Marge struggled to unclasp her bra. “I think I should go to the other side. I don’t want to knock anyone out with my big swingers.”

“You’re not going anywhere. Wilder Widows on three.” I arched a brow and eliciting a nod from each of them.

My hammering heart rattled my ribcage once again, but this time I didn’t let it deter me. This time I let it invigorate me and fuel my desire to live this next part of my life to the fullest. I inhaled a deep breath, and when I released it, I also exhaled all my fears and limitations. With one last apology to God, I smiled.

“One... two... three!”

“WILDER WIDOWS!”

We screamed in unison as we hoisted up our shirts. The shock from the freedom and the cool breeze blowing across my bare chest sucked the air from my lungs. Breathless, I closed my eyes and tried to burn the feelings coursing through me into my mind.

Fearless. Brave. Free.

They were feelings I never wanted to go away. Feelings that were now the soundtrack to my new life. My second act.

After what felt like an eternity of freedom, Sylvie laughed and lowered her shirt. “Holy shit! You did it!”

I pulled down my own, saddened to feel the fabric brush against my breasts again. “I did it.” I grinned so wide I was sure it was brighter than all the lights sparkling around Paris.

“Way to go, Doris! The Old Maid is no more!” Marge tucked her breasts back into her oversized bra then clapped me on the back.

Alice still stood with her unnaturally perky breasts exposed, continuing to hold the eyes of the slack-jawed crowds surrounding us.

Sylvie tapped her on the shoulder. “We’re done, Alice. You can put your shirt down now.”

“One more second,” she said, closing her eyes and inhaling a deep breath. When she blew it out, she pulled her shirt down and smiled at the people still gawking. With a flourish, she took a bow before turning back to us. “There. That ought to have given them enough of a show. And Doris! I’m proud of you! I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Neither had I. But now that it was in me, I never wanted to let it go. I wanted to hold onto this feeling and wrap it around myself like a warm blanket and never take it off.

“How do you feel?” Sylvie asked, and the Wilder Widows stared at me, awaiting my answer.

“Alive.”

For the first time since Harold died, leaving me all alone, I felt alive again. Heck, it may have been the first time in my life I’d ever felt this alive. My whole life I’d had mapped out by the time I was ten. Graduate. Get married. Have babies. Raise a family. Die. What I hadn’t taken into account was what would happen after I’d raised that family, the time between the life I’d chosen and the death that awaited. And now I had a fresh new chapter in the book of my life, and I got to choose what went in it—a new story filled with more adventure than I’d ever dared to dream.

Their smiles matched my own, and they closed around me, pressing me between them as they squeezed their arms around each other.

“Thank you,” I whispered into Alice’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Welcome to the rest of your life, Doris.” She kissed my head before they gave me one last hug and we broke apart.

The crowds finally stopped staring at us and went back to watching the light show that continued sparkling around us.

“Well, that’s two wishes down,” Alice said, reaching into her oversized bag and pulling out the little knitting basket. “Are we ready for three?”

Sylvie and Marge exchanged excited glances, and we all nodded.

“Doris, since this was your wish, it’s your turn to pick.”

She shook the basket and lifted the lid I’d crocheted myself. With a deep breath, I reached inside and felt around until a piece of paper touched my fingertips. I plucked it out and unfolded it quickly, my new spark for life demanding more adventure. More of this feeling. More excitement. I read the words on the paper, and suddenly my newfound drive for adventure fluttered away on the breeze that wafted between us.

“What? Why does your face look like that?” Sylvie asked, stepping to my side.