Free Hollyhock Ridge by Pamela Grandstaff

Claire frantically searched her memory for a timeline of the previous
evening’s events.
    It was no use.
    Even thinking hurt.
    “Here,” Laurie said.
    He was wearing sweat pants and nothing else.
    He handed her a glass of water and what looked like two
aspirin. He then sat on the edge of the tub and regarded her with affection.
    “I called Melissa,” he said. “She stayed with your Dad last
night, and took him to work at the bakery this morning.”
    “He’ll be worried,” she said. “He doesn’t like any change in
his routine.”
    “She said he’s fine,” he said. “Ed picked him up at the
bakery and took him to breakfast. No harm done.”
    “I wouldn’t say that.”
    “No point in regretting anything,” he said, “when there’s
nothing to regret.”
    “I was naked in your bed,” she said.
    “You threw up all over your clothes,” he said. “I washed
them; they’re in the dryer.”
    “They’re dry clean only,” she said. “You may as well have
set them on fire.”
    “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think of that.”
    “You didn’t have any pajamas you could lend me?”
    “I did offer,” he said. “You refused.”
    “You could have slept on the couch,” she said.
    “I wanted to be nearby in case you got sick again,” he said.
“Anything happens to you, I’d have three burly Irishmen busting my kneecaps
with their shillalies.”
    “That’s offensive,” she said. “For sure there were no
shenanigans?”
    “If I’ve learned anything over the past two years, it’s not
to have intimate relations with pretty drunken ladies, no matter how ardently
they insist.”
    “I insisted?”
    “Avidly,” he said. “I was as surprised as I was flattered.”
    “Sorry.”
    “In all honesty, the smell of whiskey and beer vomit is not
the aphrodisiac it’s claimed to be.”
    “Kill me now,” she said.
    “I’d rather draw you a nice hot bath and scrub your back,”
he said. “Alas, I will be late for work if I don’t shower and get out of here
in the next twenty minutes.”
    “Do you mind if I stay here?” she said. “I don’t think
everything’s out yet.”
    “Be my guest,” he said, and stood up.
    He hooked his thumbs in the elastic waist of his sweatpants.
    “Don’t peek,” he said. “I know how you beauticians are.”
    Claire lay her head back down on her arms and closed her
eyes. After Laurie had showered, shaved, and vacated the bathroom, Claire
dragged herself into the shower and hoped the hot water could somehow rinse
away the events of the previous evening.
    Once out of the shower, Claire got dressed in the same
bathrobe, because her clothes were now shrunken rags, and not in the cool Bohemian
sense. She was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking black coffee, and toying
with a dry piece of toast, when she heard her phone ringing. She followed the
noise to where she’d dropped her purse, in the foyer. It was Ed. She let it go
to voicemail.
    She called Melissa at the bakery.
    “You ornery catbird,” Melissa said. “I don’t blame you; that
was one awful thing Ed done to you, and that Laurie’s a sweetie.”
    “Who all knows?”
    “Everybody who was still in the bar knows you left with
him,” Melissa said, “but only me and Patrick know you didn’t come home last
night. I swore him to secrecy, and he can keep a secret if’n I make him.”
    “I’m so sorry I didn’t call,” Claire said. “Laurie said he
talked to you.”
    “Don’t worry ‘bout it none,” Melissa said. “You been due a
night to cut loose so I was glad to help out. Me and your dad played checkers
and watched big time wrasslin’. Why don’t you let me stay with him every night
this week so you can enjoy yourself?”
    “I appreciate that, Melissa, thank you. Right now I’m hoping
you’ll do me another favor,” Claire said. “My clothes and shoes from last night
are ruined; could you bring me something to wear?”
    “Where are you?”
    “Laurie’s staying at Scott’s house while