Free My Soon-To-Be Sex Life by Judith Tewes Page B

through his well-moussed hair. “You shitting me?” he asked, accent gone. Vanished. Non-existent.
    â€œNope,” I said. “Your window of opportunity closed a few months ago. She met a guy on the internet.” I didn’t tell him the marriage was rocky, no use getting his hopes up. “Does that fake accent really work with women?”
    He shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”
    â€œI’m guessing there’s no mafia don in the family either?”
    â€œI’ll let you in on a secret,” Tony said. “We’re not Italian. We don’t understand half of the staff we inherited when we bought this place. We’re Scottish, Irish, a little of this, a little of that, basically, we’re mutts.”
    I nodded. “The canned mushrooms make sense to me now.”
    â€œSee, a place like this can only survive if it’s got loyal regulars.” He rubbed his arms for warmth. “It’s a fucking blizzard out here and I have to re-organize the freezers today. Another few hundred bucks and I’m in Mexico. Can’t come too soon.” He cupped his hand over his mouth, blew on them for warmth. “Anyway, my uncle decided to keep the Italian Stallion theme going for a while. Doesn’t mean he won’t try to change the menu. I personally talked him out of a Thursday night Haggis special.”
    His teeth started to chatter. “It’s too damn cold, I’m going in. One second.” He dashed into the restaurant, and returned with coats draped over his arm. “Here, I saw where Eric stashed them.”
    â€œThanks.” Immediately I shed crotch rot coat and held it aloft. I’d be a virgin forever if I stayed wrapped up in that thing. “Got garbage?”
    Tony, if that was his real name, made a face and retreated into the doorway. “Back there.” He jerked his thumb toward the alley.
    I started off. If I had the time and the inclination I could probably sell the coat on eBay, marketing it as the modern chastity belt.
    â€œEric works nights,” Tony called after me. “He’s usually here after six.”
    I waved my hand and I kept walking.
    â€œCome back anytime. Bring Grace. Tell her I said hi. Tell her I think she’s beautiful. No, tell her she’s the most beautiful woman in the world!” He yelled louder. “What should I tell Eric?”
    â€œNothing!” Good Lord, why would I want Eric to know I showed up looking like roadkill?
    â€œYou think he’s cute?”
    â€œNuh uh.”
    â€œYou want him?”
    I said nothing and rounded the corner. I laid the coat to rest in a double-wide industrial garbage bin. The sleeve flopped over the lip of the dumpster is like a drunken arm draped over a toilet. An image I’d seen before and didn’t need any reminders.
    In a flash it is Mom’s arm after she changes her mind, wants to live, and shoves her fingers down her throat to prove it. I remember the retching that woke me from a dream. A nightmare. Dad was dead. We were alone.
    But my eyes had opened and it was real.

Chapter Thirteen
    After striking out at the restaurant, I tried calling Roach on her cell, but it went directly to voicemail. Her parents probably had the family out doing volunteer work or helping out at their church. They were super strict about Roach keeping her cell off during any such goodness. A stint of retail therapy at the mall was not in the cards.
    I didn’t want to go back to Monty’s and so my early morning wanderings lead me to the hospital to visit my mom.
    Oh joy, I’d arrived just in time for art therapy. Long tables now took up most of the floor space, everyone seated and working diligently over masses of brown clay. I slipped further into the room, lingering by the window-lined wall and was greeted by a girl, about my age, with super long black hair and a wicked attitude.
    â€œGet a gun and shoot me,” she said, standing