Monday morning — 9:20 A.M.
In her own bed, Sandy rolled onto her back and stretched. Aden had brought her home before he went to work at five that morning. Sandy climbed the stairs, then crawled into bed with Cleo curled up next to her. She slept like a log until her alarm went off.
Time to get up.
She wandered through her condo apartment to the kitchen. After the last passion filled nights, coffee was definitely in order. She started brewing a pot.
On her way to the bathroom, Sandy pressed the play button on her blinking answering machine. Hearing her mother’s voice, she decided to shower. She was meeting Aden at the gym at 10:30 after he dropped his kids off at their therapy appointment. Sandy washed, moisturized, and blew dry her hair. She was slipping on her bathrobe when her mother’s voice stopped talking on the answering machine. Sandy flipped the machine off on her way back to the kitchen.
Taking a long drink of coffee, Sandy leaned against the kitchen counter to wait for her mother to call on her ten o’clock break.
“Hi Mom.” Sandy answered the call on the first ring.
“Sandy!” Her mother exclaimed as if they hadn’t spoken in years. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Mom. How are you?”
“Worried, dear. About you,” her mother said. “I tried to call you this weekend…”
“I just got your messages,” Sandy said.
“Clogged up your machine again,” her mother chuckled.
Sandy let the silence lag. Her mother only called for specific reasons. If she waited, her mother would get around to what she wanted.
“Elsa called.” Her mother’s voice was breezy, but the phone line echoed a chorus of ‘Sandy screwed up.’ “She said she saw you with a man at the Avenue Grill on Friday night. Do you have a new boyfriend?”
“Well, Elsa said he was older than you and seemed to have a lot of money – nice watch, fancy car, paid cash. She said she walked by your table three times. She wanted to meet the man but you never even looked up.”
“I don’t remember her.”
Sandy took a drink of coffee. Elsa was her mother’s oldest and nosiest friend. Who knows if Elsa actually saw Sandy or if she heard it from someone else who heard it from someone who…
“Elsa said he was holding your hand. Even through dinner! Holding your hand. She thought you were already… intimate with that man. You know, Sandy, a man like that only dates young girls for one thing.”
“What’s that, Mom?”
“You haven’t let him… touch you already have you?”
Sandy didn’t respond.
“Oh Sandy.” Her mother’s voice dripped with disappointment. “A man like that… You have to string him along. You don’t want to end up like Jill do you?”
“Jill’s a wonderful person. I wouldn’t mind being exactly like Jill.”
The retelling of Celia’s Puppies, Denver Cereal Volume 2, continues tomorrow…
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