Free December Rain by A. L. Goulden

day either.” Ri knows the real reason for their distance is Jack, but she humors the situation with a smile.
    “Well, I want you to know I’m still here for you. Hoi too.”
    “Thank you. I love you,” Monica says with a hug.
    Robin looks smug again at her handy work though her irritation tolerance is already pushed to its limit. That gloating face sticks through their lunch, and the cab ride to the day spa. Unfortunately the spa mistakes their group facials as a pre-wedding celebration, and gives Monica a robe that says Bride in pink calligraphy on the front. When Monica turns to show them, laughing hysterically, Robin storms off pissed. It cost her a small fortune to get four estheticians scheduled at once, so she makes the manager feel so bad, they got an extra bottle of wine and complimentary pedicures.
    “This has turned out kinda awesome so far,” Monica says to Robin. “Thank you for dragging me.” Robin reaches to hold her hand now that her face mask has hardened and smart-ass comments aren’t possible. Monica’s mask starts to firm and she takes Tristan’s hand on the other side. “This is the best divorce shower a girl can have.”
    “Ow,” Ri cries in pain as she laughs. They all start giggling under the painful mud that tugs and tears their skin. Monica starts dodging playful punches and towel smacks from all sides.
    It’s dark by the time they leave the spa and hop a cab for the bar. It’s a familiar dive, the kind of place that let you smoke even after it was illegal and didn’t care how many people were in the restroom at once. There are a lot of stories in those walls that luckily can’t speak. Monica strolls in with a swagger ready to drink and hopefully dance her troubles away. When her eyes adjust to the dark room she sees Jack sitting in a booth near the stage with his guitar. She throws him a nod. There are only a handful of people since it’s still early and the background music is faint, but when she spots an old jukebox her plans perk up.
    Monica smacks her hand on the bar. “Johnnie Walker Black, neat.” She goes straight for the digital jukebox and starts pressing numbers. “Fuck. It costs a fortune to play music now.” It’s not clear who she’s hollering at, but the sexy rocker-type bartender with tatted sleeves whistles. She turns just in time to catch a set of keys.
    “Play what you want. Just turn it to the right and select. Then come get your drink.” He winks, hoping his charm and smile will win him some points, but she just gives him a brotherly thumbs up.
    “Erotic City” by Prince fills the room with smiles and nods. She smiles at the bartender handing him the keys. “It’s a Prince night. Hope you’re a fan.” She tosses the drink back and starts slithering her dance moves alone in front of the stage.
    “Why is this so familiar?” Tristan says to Rianne.
    “Let her blow off some steam,” Rianne says. “We should get out there too. It’d do us good to let loose.”
    Robin says, “I’m down. Let me finish this martini.” She slurps it down like a pro. “Done, let’s go.”
    The ladies join Monica just as the song tappers into Prince’s “Kiss” which they happily butcher every sexy word for old time’s sake. Monica gives her gals a hot grind or two as they all laugh. The bartender suddenly loves Prince. This is the best free entertainment they’ve had in a long time. People start steadily flowing into the bar adding whistles and cheering to their grooves. Tristan is the most reserved with her white girl bounce, but Robin and Rianne give Monica a run for her pole dancer money. Monica gets Tristan to shake her tits just once though and it makes her howl with laughter. It’s the most fun any of them have had in a decade. The playlist continues along with another round of drinks. After the second song though, Tristan disappears to sit at the bar so she can text photos to Antonio. She notices Jack in the background of one photo watching the show,