Free Magnolia Blossoms by Rhonda Dennis Page B

her. “Spill. Tell it to me. Give me all of your ugly.”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Bullshit. You might be goofy as hell, but you’re not dumb. You came down here looking for one of two things: a prostitute or drugs. Clearly, drugs are not your thing, so it has to be a prostitute. Why would a woman, I’m guessing early to mid-thirties…” She pauses, and I nod. “…be on the prowl for a prostitute? You need some advice that only a whore can give? Judging from the circa 1970s bush fro you’re sporting under that skirt, I think it’s safe to say that you’ve never been with a man. Am I right?”
    My eyes widen with horror, and I turn a lovely shade of vermilion. “I-I don’t know a lot about… Why were you looking up my skirt?”
    “It kinda rode up when I was dragging you in here. It’s not like I went in search of it. It just kinda popped out and said hi. Another thing you might not know is that a lot of women shave their legs.”
    “Yeah, I know, but I figure there’s no point. The only person to get close enough to see it has been you.”
    She turns sideways on the sofa so she can prop her elbow on the back of it. “Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
    “One.”
    “Tell me about him.”
    “I don’t think I want to.”
    “Why not? It’s not often that I get the hankering to help someone, but you are very obviously a lost soul in need of some Honey Bear intervention.”
    “Honey Bear?”
    “That’s me. Honey LeReaux. You know, like, row, row, row your boat gently up my … Oh, never mind. The guys love it, but it’s obviously lost on you.”
    “Well, Ms. Honey…”
    “Don’t you go calling me Ms. anything. Honey’s the name.”
    “Okay, Honey.”
    Honey smiles and nods her approval.
    “The relationship with the only boyfriend I’ve ever had lasted a total of twenty minutes,” I admit.
    “Did you fuck him?”
    Though still a little shocked by Honey’s potty mouth, I feel less intimidated by her constant barrage of questions. “No, but he tried to kiss me.”
    “Would that have been your first kiss?”
    “Yes.”
    “How long ago did all of this happen?”
    “A few weeks ago.”
    She looks at me with intrigue. “You’re understated, but not ugly. What’s wrong with you?”
    “I wish I knew,” I say a little depressed.
    “Naw, naw, naw, now none of that. No feeling sad over the past. If I dwelled on my past, I’d have killed myself long ago. Let’s agree that we’re going to focus on the present and future only. Deal?”
    “Deal?” I say with a slightest of smiles. “Thank you for this, Honey.”
    “For what? I ain’t done nothin’.”
    “You’re treating me like a person. You’re interacting with me, actually listening to me.”
    “Here I woulda thunk that you, growing up with rich parents and such, you would’ve had it all. I guess the old sayin’ is right, money can’t buy happiness. You’re about the saddest soul I’ve come across in ages. I need to hear how this happened.”
    Standing, I turn my back to her so she won’t see the tears starting to well in the corners of my eyes. “This isn’t a good idea. I came here with the intention of receiving information on how to land a man, not to get therapy.”
    Honey stands behind me and gently pushes some of the longer strands of hair from my shoulder. “If you want a man, you should start with fixing yourself. To do that, you need to let someone in. It’s not something you can do alone; otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Look, I can understand your not wanting life advice from a washed up whore, but when it comes to living life, I’ve done, seen, and experienced it all. I might be able to help.”
    “Why would you want to help me? What’s in it for you?”
    “Nothing really. I don’t know why, but I like ya. You’re kinda like a pathetic stray desperate for some lovin’.”
    “I thought you wanted me to feel better about myself.”
    “First lesson: people are mean. Don’t