Wrecked (Stories of Serendipity #8): #8 by Anne Conley Page B

crying in her life.
    It had to be the hormones. She’d been sniffing back tears since about 6:30 when it was becoming apparent he wasn’t going to show. Why she had stuck around, she wasn’t sure. Glutton for punishment? Reiterating her own stupidity?
    Jessie grabbed her hand. “Come on. You already look great. We don’t have to get shit-faced, just a couple of drinks, then we’ll go home.” Tugging her up, Jessie looked at Renae appraisingly. “Your tits look amazing in that dress. I had no idea you had such great ta-tas.”
    Renae laughed in spite of herself. She wasn’t about to admit her favorite perk of pregnancy. “I quit drinking after the last time I was at the Gin.” She tugged her hand free and bent to get her purse. She really just wanted to go to bed.
    “Then have juice. A coke. Water. Whatever. You are not going home to feel sorry for yourself, not after venting about what shits men can be.” Jessie re-claimed her hand and tugged her out the door. “I’m following you. If you don’t go to the Gin, I’ll just follow you home with a bottle of tequila.”
    She knew Jessie would do it too. Heaving a resigned sigh, she said, “Okay, fine. I’ll go. But no tequila.”
    Jessie gave a squeal of triumph and followed her out to her car. True to her word, she followed Renae to the Gin. She must have already called people because Claire, Alyssa, Les, and another friend Kathy were all there, drinks in hand, waiting.
    “I thought you said girls’ night. Why is Les here?” Jessie shrugged in response.
    “I didn’t call him. He might have already been here.”
    Everybody stood and hugged Renae and Jessie when they reached the table, and Les gave warrant to Jessie’s conclusion by grabbing Renae’s ass and slurring his word in her ear. “It’s so good to see you, ‘Nae.”
    She sat down at the table loaded with beer bottles and shot glasses and ordered a water from the passing waitress.
    “Oh come on, have a drink,” Alyssa prodded.
    “Not tonight. I’m abstaining.”
    “Apparently, she had too good of a time last time she let loose and is scared.” Jessie offered. Renae didn’t correct her, ignoring Alyssa’s pointed look. She seemed to be the only one there who questioned the explanation but didn’t ask any questions.
    Renae sipped at her bottle of water, listening to everyone around her talk about their weekend. When they’d gone around the table, everyone’s eyes turned to her, waiting for her to spill why she was here.
    “I got stood up tonight.” She started. “It was my own fault, I guess. I shouldn’t have expected anything after the way I treated him.”
    Les was instantly alert. “Who?” He demanded, slamming down his bottle.
    Claire’s eyes were wide. “Was it that guy from last time we were here? The sax player?”
    Renae nodded. “Yeah. It was a mistake. I should have known better.”
    Alyssa rested her hand on Renae’s thigh in an oddly comforting gesture while Jessie asked, “Did you sleep with him?”
    “I don’t really want to talk about it, guys.”
    “Yup. She slept with him.” Claire took a swig from her beer bottle after her lofty declaration. Les jumped up and ran out the door before anyone could stop him.
    “Good. The testosterone is gone. Now we can have a true estrogen fest.” Alyssa sighed into her beer. “Men can be so stupid sometimes.”
    “I’m lost. I thought you were going out with Mr. O’Niel’s son?” Jessie asked.
    “He is Mr. O’Niel’s son.”
    “The guy that runs the mailbox place? He’s such a nice little old man,” Alyssa mused. “Maybe something happened to him? Why do you think it was your fault?” She continued, ever the optimist.
    Renae started at the beginning, telling about the wreck, then seeing him at the Gin, and glossing over the remarkable sex, ignoring the pregnancy issue altogether. She ended her story with hiding from him at Jessie’s house and agreeing to go out with him.
    “And then he stood me up,