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Needless to say, after hiring two boys that were younger than me, calling back a guy that looked like he had potential, and closing shop at the end of the day, I was more than ready for a drink.
And Ethel was waiting for me when I got home, having prepared for my arrival.
She was already dressed to impress with her breasts all but hanging out the top of her dress.
And her eyes were excited as she watched me pull up in my truck.
“Go get showered,” she ordered briskly. “I’m ready to go.”
I noticed.
I also did what she asked, trying not to think about the man that’d been the reason behind my accepting the invitation to the club.
After spending my day with nothing but my own thoughts, I’d come to the conclusion that Tide was just lashing out because he couldn’t handle the emotions that’d been roiling through him.
He was allowed to be snippy when he had a patient die. Especially someone that meant something to him and had been so young and full of life and hope.
Now, Jase was dead, and Tide was floundering.
He’d lashed out like most men did—like even my own father did upon occasion—and I’d been the recipient.
Granted, he shouldn’t have said what he said.
But I could understand his need to get me away to be able to gather his failing walls around him and shove them back into place.
He didn’t mean the things he’d said, yet I was still hurt.
I was also still going out to eat and to dance, because I owed it to Ethel.
And to be honest, I wanted Tide to realize that he’d made me mad. That he’d said some things that he shouldn’t have, and that I meant more to him than he realized.
Then again, maybe I should be taking my own advice, and finally admitting that all these years, Tide and I had been participating in the longest game of foreplay ever.
“What’s with that face?”
I blinked, surprised to find Ethel in my room.
“I’m coming to some uncomfortable realizations,” I grumbled, stripping out of my shirt.
My pants, bra, and underwear went next.
See, Ethel and I weren’t what you would call best friends. We were too introverted and independent to ever have a best friend.
But we were friends. We did trust each other. And we were women who didn’t care what everyone else thought.
Meaning, we walked around naked every once in a while, and neither one of us really cared.
Hence the reason I was naked in front of her and standing in the shower. Or why she was in my room, looking disinterested, in the first place.
“So tell me what happened today that you agreed to come out to Electric Cowboy with me,” she urged.
I grumbled under my breath as I turned the water onto scalding hot—just the way I liked it—and stepped inside.
I did, not leaving anything out, even my realization about how Tide felt when it came to the little patient he’d lost.
“He was hurting, and he lashed out,” Ethel confirmed with a nod of her head.
I reached for the shampoo and began washing my hair, followed by lathering every single inch of my body.
“Do you want to eat here before we go? Then we can head to the club about ten or so?” she asked. “I was thinking that it wouldn’t be cool to show up right when they opened.”
I rolled my eyes. “This doesn’t have anything to do with your grandfather’s neighbor being the new owner, does it?”
Ethel sighed. “I heard that he doesn’t come in until late because he works still. From my sources, he doesn’t even arrive until after ten. There’s no reason we have to be there until then,” she answered.
I snickered as I leaned forward and rinsed the soap from my hair.
I repeated the process with the conditioner, then shaved every inch of my body top to bottom, leaving nothing but the hair on my head, my arms, and the hair covering my vagina.
That was one way I’d never be like another woman.
I did not, under any certain terms, plan on ever shaving my vagina. Not after doing it once in eleventh grade and having to deal with the god-awful itch.
Sure, I kept the edges cleaned up but that was about all the effort I was willing to put into it.
I was uncomfortable enough at work in my hot coveralls. I didn’t need to add a sweaty, itchy vagina to the mix.
“I think you missed a spot on your right ass cheek,” Ethel teased. “Are you planning ahead?”
I snickered. “I am planning for the inevitable.”
“Which is?” She crossed her arms and leaned her hips against my vanity.
“Which is,” I answered. “Tide realizing he’s a dumbass and coming to pick me up from the club.”
She broke out into guffaws of laughter. “You should see your face.”
“What’s wrong with it?” I wondered.
