I got Wendy’s phone number from Emily and called her. She was pleased to hear from me, but very negative about Alice (AKA “that bitch”). I told her that Alice felt terrible and she loves Emily as a friend. And since the general understanding is that they had been a couple and that Alice had been the breaker-upper, Emily got custody of the church. Alice started going to our church, and when the kids asked why, she said the incense at Epiphany gave her a headache.
And Emily also got custody of the friends, except for a few who wanted to be “non-binary” and stay friends with both of them and some who hit on Alice. She was flattered, but she wondered if they were doing it because they thought she was fast and just wanted a quick pop.
Wendy’s comment was “Boo effing hoo,” but she didn’t say “effing.”
“But anyway,” I said, trying to get the conversation back on track, “The problem isn’t Alice. Emily will probably meet someone someday. But the problem is that she’s talking to Michele.” I didn’t know if I should call Michele “that bitch.” It’s not a good idea to criticize someone’s ex; you never know if they’ll get back together, especially in that crowd.
“Shoot,” Wendy said. “Shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot.” And of course that isn’t really what she said.
“Is Michele seeing anyone?”
“There’s a very nice new woman in our group that she seems to have her eye on.”
“Wait a minute.” I practically had to pick my jaw up off the ground. “You’re still in the group?”
Wendy seemed surprised that I was surprised. “It’s kind of a small community. It’s like a family; you get mad at each other, but you have to stick together and deep down you love each other. And everybody knows everybody else’s secrets.”
That sounded a little like incest to me, but of course I didn’t say anything. “Can’t you warn her?”
“Oh, we’ve tried. But once Michele’s interested, you’re a goner. We’re going to be very supportive, though, when it’s over. Actually, I don’t think it’s started. But then again, maybe it has. It’s kind of confusing.”
To say the least.
“So you don’t think Michele is really after Emily?”
Wendy sighed. “Who knows? Fortunately, she’s not here.”
“But what can we do?”
“Find someone else for her. Get her to go to therapy. Start a support group. How should I know? She got herself into this mess. Or That Bitch did.”
I decided to change the subject. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Wendy sighed again. “I’m on a break. I can’t decide if it’s because I need some peace or if it’s just no one is interested. I just wish I could find the right woman and settle down, even get married one day. Actually, I’m mad at myself for wasting all that time with Michele, when I knew what would happen.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. Emily said no one can help herself when it comes to Michele.”
“Well, she’s got that right.”
“Listen, Wendy, Emily knows I’m going to call you and she probably figured out why. Maybe you can talk some sense into her. Never mind Alice, just get her away from Michele.”
“Sure, why not? Is this a Jane Austen novel or what?”
“I like to think of my life as a quirky independent comedy.”
“Or maybe it’s the court of Henry the Eighth.”
“Well, you know what went on there.”
I would have liked to have discussed more metaphors for my life, but Duke had just stolen a piece of pizza off the table and Cilla was chasing him. We promised to talk again soon.
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