Free The Sisterhood by Helen Bryan Page B

up.
    “Never mind that stuff. I won’t be going out.”
    Becky stuck her head out of the closet. “You need to go out; you never dated anyone but Theo. There are other fish in the sea, you know.”
    “I don’t care!” Menina snapped. The thought of men caused a surge of stomach pain that doubled her up. She rushed to the bathroom to find the pain she’d had all afternoon was cramps; she had got her period. Relieved not to be pregnant, Menina took a shower and dressed, and after Becky had gone, she sat down to supper with the Walkers, trying hard to act normal and not cry. She made it to dessert and fled back to her room.
    For the next week everything was strained at the Walkers’ house. Sarah-Lynn prayed it was just wedding nerves. She turned the house upside down for things that might come in handy on the trip, and stuffed them into the backpack Virgil had ordered for Menina express from L.L. Bean.
    Becky drove back to Laurel Run especially to deliver a large brown envelope with plane tickets, the itinerary, and information from the organizer. Menina emerged from her fog of misery long enough to realize Becky must have canceled her interview at the penitentiary.
    “Oh Becky, I’m so sorry!”
    “I’m rescheduling it. Don’t worry, it wasn’t that important,” said Becky unconvincingly. Menina felt worse than ever—she was a terrible friend to Becky.
    A woman from Sarah-Lynn’s Bible study class brought over an old-fashioned guidebook to Spain, published by a Christian publishing house, for Menina. Menina thanked her lethargically and put it on her bedside table.
That
was staying here.
    Virgil stopped making jokes the way he usually did, while Sarah-Lynn’s avoidance of anything to do with weddings was painful. Menina was too depressed to look forward to the trip, but by the end of the week she thought Spain couldn’t be any worse than home.
    On Saturday afternoon the Walkers drove her to the Atlanta airport. Menina boarded and slipped into her window seat, and after the plane had filled up, a last-minute arrival flung herself into the aisle seat. Menina was glad to see there was a vacant seat between them. She didn’t feel like being elbow to elbow with another person. Soon the Atlanta airport was rolling by outside Menina’s window—slowly, then faster, then dropping away as the plane lifted off, banked and climbed. Menina watched the evening lights of greater Atlanta grow smaller and smaller below, feeling cut adrift from everything she knew. Before long a flight attendant came down the aisle pushing a drink cart. “Would you like something to drink?”
    Menina managed a tight smile and said, “A Coke, please. No. Wait…maybe…bourbon. A big one.” Virgil drank bourbon. When Sarah-Lynn wasn’t watching.
    “Big bourbon it is. And a splash?”
    “Oh. You mean water. Thanks.” The attendant smiled and rattled ice cubes into a glass, emptied two miniatures into it and added a little water from a big bottle. She handed it over with ahandful of extra little bottles and a conspiratorial wink. “You must be with the bachelorette party. Like I told the others, might as well start the party now.” Menina had been about to refuse the miniatures. Now she took them and forced a smile. “Thanks. How did you know?”
    “Spain’s real popular for bachelorette parties, you know—sightseeing, great bars, great shopping.” The attendant grinned. “And a
long
way from anybody who might care what they’re up to. Y’all have a great time.” Then she turned her attention to the woman in the aisle seat, who waved her away.
    Menina stared at her glass. She had drunk perhaps a dozen glasses of wine in her life and didn’t care for alcohol, but the smell of bourbon reminded her of her father. She took a big gulp, then gagged. The vile taste seemed appropriate. Menina poured another two miniatures into the melting ice, and downed them determinedly. After a while she had another miniature.
    She shook her head