Page 7 of The Wilder Widows

“Good. You should try water, Alice. It’s better for you.” Doris gestured to her own glass.

“There’s plenty of water in vodka.” Alice arched a brow.

“I could go for a drink myself. What about that whiskey Alice brought you?” Marge asked, and three sets of eyes turned to me.

I’d forgotten about the bottle Alice had delivered during their first visit. “You’re right! I still have it!”

“Well, then. What are we waiting for?” Alice grinned.

After looking to Marge and getting her confirming nod, I glanced over to Doris. She pursed her thin lips tight, and worry lines deepened on her face.

“Do you want some, Doris?” I asked.

“I don’t think I should.” She shook her head.

“Oh, come on. Do it!” Alice begged.

“Do it, Doris. Do it.” Marge grinned.

She shook her head harder. “I don’t think so.”

“Come on, you sissy. You know you want the whiskey. It will be fun!” Marge kept on.

“I don’t like peer pressure!” Doris looked ready to crumble beneath the taunting stares.

“I’ll just pour you a glass, and you can drink it or not drink it. Your choice.” I walked to the kitchen and found the bottle in the cupboard where I’d stashed it. After pouring four glasses of whiskey, I carried them back on a platter and set them on the coffee table. Alice snatched hers up without hesitation, and Marge followed suit. Doris and I exchanged a nervous glance before I plucked mine up as well.

“It’s been ages since I’ve drank, much less had whiskey.” I gave the glass a sniff. A shudder traveled up my spine when the strong smell of alcohol permeated my nostrils.

“I’ve never had whiskey,” Doris admitted, staring at it like the devil himself sat on the edge of the glass taunting her.

“Go on, Doris. It won’t kill you.” Unfazed by the straight whiskey, Alice gulped down a swig.

Marge and I took a simultaneous sip, both of our faces puckering while we choked down the fiery liquid.

“Cripes, that’s strong!” Marge sputtered.

“It’s pure whiskey. What’d you expect?” Alice laughed and took another swig like a pro.

“Wow.” I exhaled a breath ripe with whiskey. The warmth traveled through me, and just as Alice predicted when she gave it to me, it already started taking the edge off.

The three of us stared at Doris while she shifted on the couch. “I don’t know, girls. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Doris. We can only knit and walk so much. Let’s have some fun!” Marge leaned forward, pushing the glass toward her. “Our husbands died. Our lives are nearly over. We earned this shit.”

Biting her lip, Doris reached out and slid the glass into her hands. After one sniff, she fanned her nose and pulled a face. “I can’t! It smells like gasoline!”

“That works in a pinch.” Alice smiled. “This is much smoother.”

“Go ahead, Doris. You won’t die.” Marge took another sip of her own, this time masking the bitter face I knew she was dying to make.

Plugging her nose with one hand, Doris closed her eyes and lifted the glass to her lips. We watched with bated breath while she took a large swig. The moment it passed her lips, her eyes shot open, and she coughed, nearly spitting out the fiery whiskey I knew burned a trail down her throat.

“Geez Louise!” she shouted.

“Atta girl, Doris!” Marge said.

“Well done.” I smiled and lifted my glass in a toast. “To the Wilder Widows.”