Every Woman's Dream by Mary Monroe Page A

don’t know what might happen if we get into this too deep.” The silence that followed was spooky.
    After almost half a minute, I exhaled and locked eyes with Joan. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”
    â€œNo,” she replied with a shrug. “It’s all good.”
    Joan’s cousin Larry had recently moved in with her family while his apartment was being painted. He’d let her borrow his ten-year-old minivan to drive to the restaurant.
    â€œJust thought I’d ask.” I sniffed and pursed my lips. “I’ve been thinking.... If we had an apartment, one with a garage, you or I could buy a decent vehicle. I’m tired of cruising around in your cousin’s hooptie. And you had the nerve to park that jalopy right next to a brand-new Jaguar! I’d love to cruise around in a brand-new Mazda or a Jetta.”
    Joan took a bite of the garlic bread we had ordered to go along with our steak and lobster dinners. “Be serious, girl. Hiding our new clothes and other stuff is one thing. How would you or I explain a new car while we’re still in school and unemployed? Even if we hid it somewhere, sooner or later somebody would see us in it and want to know who it belongs to. Forget about either one of us getting a car.” Joan snorted, gave me a dismissive wave, and shifted in her seat. It was time to change the subject. “By the way, are you still sneaking Bobby Hayes into your house after Bertha goes to bed?”
    My eyes rolled back in my head. “He came over last night. He was so hot he couldn’t even wait for me to take off my panties. He ripped them off,” I recounted, swooning. “Bertha came downstairs to get a glass of milk and almost caught us getting busy on the living-room couch. Thank God we’d finished our business in time.” I giggled and slid my tongue across my bottom lip.
    â€œI thought you said, once she went to bed, she slept like a corpse.”
    â€œShe usually does. But every now and then she’ll get back up and wander down to the kitchen for a snack or something to drink. I really like Bobby and I’m going to do everything I can to hold on to him. The last boyfriend I had kicked me to the curb after one date because he couldn’t deal with Bertha.”
    A very cute Italian waiter delivered our main courses, but the smell of all that spicy food was very potent. Joan rubbed her nose and excused herself before she made a mad dash to the ladies’ room. When she returned about ten minutes later, I folded my arms and looked at her with both eyebrows raised. “I was just about to come check on you. I thought you might have fallen into the toilet.”
    â€œDon’t worry about me.” Joan collapsed back into her chair and drank from her water glass. “I’m fine.” She lifted a napkin and wiped her mouth.
    â€œYou don’t look fine. You’ve been acting weird and looking sick lately. Right now you look pretty bad—dark circles around your red puffy eyes and all. What’s up?” I asked, spearing one of the asparagus spears on my plate with my fork.
    Joan took a deep breath first and then she started talking again with a grimace on her face. “There’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been putting it off, but I can’t do that any longer. You and everybody else will know soon, anyway. It’s the reason I don’t think we should rent an apartment or buy a car.” She sighed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to me in the near future. . . .”
    â€œOh no!” I said in a hoarse whisper. “Please don’t tell me you’re dying too! I’ve lost my parents and I don’t think I could go on if I lost you too. Do you have a health issue that—”
    Joan interrupted me by holding up her hand. “No, I don’t have any health issues. Well, in a way I do.”
    â€œJoan, stop beating