Loose Screws by Karen Templeton Page B

behind her.
    For a full minute after her exit, the room reverberates with her anger. I’m not exactly thrilled to still be there, either, to tell you the truth, but I can’t quite figure out what to do. Let alone what to say.
    Shelby gets up, starts clearing the table, her mouth turned way down at the corners. “I guess things got a little out of hand.”
    I lick my lips, get to my feet to help her clean. “I thought the point of these was to get mad at other people. Not each other.”
    On a sigh, Shelby carts stuff into the kitchen. “I know. But honestly, Ginge…Terrie’s attitude toward men sucks. And don’t give me that face, you know I’m right.”
    I grunt.
    Shelby turns on the water, starts to rinse off our few dishes prior to sticking them into the dishwasher. This kitchen does not look like a typical prewar Manhattan kitchen. This kitchen, with its granite countertops and aluminum-faced appliances, looks positively futuristic. I half expect Rosie, the robot from The Jetsons, to come scooting in at any moment.
    I cross my arms, lean back against the countertop. “She’s entitled to her opinion, honey.”
    â€œAnd if that opinion made her happy,” Shelby replies, “I wouldn’t say a word.” She slams shut the dishwasher, looks at me. “But she’s not. She wants the world to mold to her view of the way things should be, and since that’s not going to happen, she’s turning more bitter and cynical by the day.”
    I humph. “Terrie was born cynical.”
    A bit of a smile flits across Shelby’s mouth. “But not bitter.” Then she reaches over, grabs my hand. “The thing is, Greg’s mother is right. We are the ones who have to fix things. Forgiveness doesn’t make us weak, no matterwhat Terrie thinks. If anything, it only proves we’re the stronger sex.” Then the smile broadens. “Besides, if men were left to their own devices, we’d all be extinct by now.” She reaches up, brushes my hair back from my face. “You just have to ask yourself if you’d be happier with Greg, or without him.”
    I knuckle the space between my brows, then sigh. “Well, I sure don’t like the way I’m feeling right now. As if somebody ripped off a major appendage.”
    â€œThen maybe you should work with that.”
    â€œSo you’re saying you think I should give Greg a second chance, should the opportunity present itself?”
    â€œI’m saying, just because a man is clueless, that doesn’t mean he’s hopeless. Here—” She hands me the ravioli container, now sparkling clean. “Don’t forget this.”
    I take it from her, managing a wan smile.
    Â 
    The instant I step outside, the heat crushes me like groupies a rock star. Taking the smallest breaths possible so my lungs don’t incinerate, I troop toward 96th Street and the crosstown bus. After that little scene in Shelby’s apartment, I’m more confused than ever. But I refuse to believe my world is falling apart, despite the evidence to the contrary.
    Who am I kidding? That was totally weird. Not to mention downright scary. Oh, sure, we’ve had about a million squabbles over the years, but nothing like that. And you know what? It ticks me off, in a way. I’m supposed to be able to count on Terrie and Shelby to restore my equilibrium when things get a little strange, as they count on me. They’re supposed to help me see things more clearly, not scramble my brains.
    Well, forget it. Just forget it. I simply cannot wrap my head around this, not today. I am too hot and enmeshed in my own tribulations to care. Tomorrow, maybe, I’ll work up to trying to figure out how to smooth things over between them, but not now.
    Now, I just want to go home, maybe have a good cry, finish the book I’m reading, even though it’s a romance which means it ends happily ever