Deconstructing Michele

Karen and Nikki couldn't wait to hear the details about my dinner with Emily and Michele. When they asked if I liked her, I had to think. "Yes, I guess so. She seems very nice, but knowing what we do about her . . ."

"I wouldn’t trust her," Karen said. "She’s going to break Emily’s heart again."

"That bitch," Nikki added.

"Maybe she just wants to help," I said.

"I doubt it. She’s like a serial killer. And what makes it worse is that the victims all encourage her. If she does them the favor of dumping them, they come back."

Karen made a face. "That is some sick shit."

"Maybe she really hates women"

"Or she has such low self esteem that she has to constantly reinforce her desirability. She probably didn’t get much action when she was young." I wondered if Joyce Carol Oates has had much luck in love. Of course, being a famous writer must help.

"Did you ever wonder if people who seem really nice are overcompensating?"

"She probably didn’t get enough attention when she was a child."

"Maybe she’s a middle child." Karen is a middle child. She probably thinks Atilla the Hun was a middle child.

I didn’t have much to add. So I just let them enjoy themselves.

"But she has to have something."

"Charm. Like Hitler and Hannibal Lecter."

I decided to jump in.  "Maybe she doesn’t realize what she’s doing."

"That’s what they all think at first."

"Of course by that time they’re hooked."

Karen sighed. "I’d like to know how she does it. Not that I need to know anymore."

Nikki and I sighed, too, wondering what it would be like to be able to get anyone you wanted.

"Well, you’ll just have to meet her," I said. "They’re coming to the house on Friday."

Later I realized I hadn’t told them about the library.