Pleasure Party

It started with an angry voice that caused hands occupied with wine glasses and finger foods to freeze midway to waiting mouths. The small group of women turned and stared wide-eyed at the source of the commotion, an angry, dark-haired woman standing by the open door. Her hands were clenched into tight fists like smoking grenades at her sides, and her mouth was set in a grim line. She spoke once more, and her Brooklyn-accented, cigarette-roughened voice pulled apart the words and reconstructed them with drawn-out vowels and hard G’s.

“What the hell are you doing here, you whore?”

The party was thirty minutes old and gathering steam slowly. Strangers gathered and chatted amiably among themselves. As the minutes passed and they grew more comfortable, they casually picked up the catalogs their hosts strategically placed around the room, leafing through them together and whispering conspiratorially, giggling like schoolgirls.

The new arrival’s voice was a knife in the heart of the party. Conversation died, and those holding the catalogs put them down guiltily and looked around to see who the recipient of the furious woman’s wrath was.

“I know you heard me, bitch,” Laura Green said through gritted teeth. “What the fuck are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be somewhere wrecking another home?”

The kitchen door swung open, and a curvy redhead, Kristin Zbornak, one of the hosts of the party and owner of the home, emerged. Her ample rear held the swinging door open, and, smiling, she walked carefully into the room, a pitcher in each hand.

“Okay, ladies, I’ve got homemade sangria. Come get it while . . .” Kristin stopped in mid-sentence upon seeing the enraged Laura standing in her doorway. Her smile disappeared, and she looked around the room, confused.

A tall and pretty Black woman used her hip to open the kitchen door a moment later and backed into the room, laden with yet another pitcher and a large tray of finger foods.

“Ahhhh yeah, ladies, it’s on! You’re about to taste my famous crab cakes. It’s time to get this party started.”

She looked around at the silent guests, and her smile also disappeared, replaced by the same uncomprehending look her best friend wore.

“Um, Kristin, what’s going on?” she asked the redhead.

“I have no idea, Bianca.”

“Wanna know what’s going on?” the woman shouted, pulling on the hem of her too-short and too-tight dress, wobbling from foot to foot drunkenly. A few stray hairs covered her eyes, and she brushed them away.

“That bitch over there on your couch is a fucking whore!” She pointed, and the accusation flew from her finger like a lightning bolt, landing directly on an attractive young brunette seated on the tasteful couch in the middle of the room.

One of the last to arrive, Veronica Castillo, entered hesitantly and helped herself to a bottle of sparkling water. She chatted with the other attendees, and soon her face lost its anxious look, and she relaxed, sipping her sparkling water contentedly as if she’d just then made up her mind to stay.

Veronica was the first to notice Laura’s arrival. She saw the doorknob turn with no result as if someone on the other side pulled instead of pushed. A moment later, the door fell open, and Laura staggered in. Veronica’s blood ran cold, and she fought the instinct to find the back door and run far and fast, away from the new arrival. She wasn’t frightened, but she knew how and when to pick her battles, and this was not one worth fighting. Not here and most definitely not now. She averted her eyes, praying Laura would pass by without recognizing her, thus providing the opportunity to slip out unnoticed.

Laura lurched into the house, glaring at the doorknob as if it had somehow mistreated her as she tugged on the hem of her dress. She glanced at the comfortable but tasteful furniture, a couple of framed Edward Hopper prints, and a large landscape painting that looked like something her six-year-old twin grandsons might have painted and smirked as if she’d judged the home and found it not up to her standards.

Veronica sat motionless, awaiting the inevitable explosion. Before long, Laura’s dark eyes landed on her but barely stayed a moment or two before they darted off again. Veronica lowered her head, and the hope flared that Laura hadn’t recognized her and she could make her escape. But when she lifted her head again, Laura’s eyes were firmly fixed on her, burning with an intense fury.

“What the hell are you doing here, you whore?”

“Hello, Laura,” she said.

“You slut! I knew I would find you sooner or later.”

“Ladies, what the hell is going on?” Bianca asked. She put down the food she carried and stepped between the two women.

“Who the fuck are you?” Laura asked.

“Bitch, watch your tone with me. Who the fuck are you?”

“Who am I? I’m the bitch who got her husband stolen by that whore over there!” She said, pointing at Veronica.

Veronica lowered her head, mortified. She didn’t want to fight this battle, but now she had no choice. “It’s good to have someone to blame, isn’t it, Laura?” She said. Her voice was low and lyrical, sweetened with a slight Spanish accent that lent extra strength to her words.

“Who else should I blame? Who broke up my home? Who killed my husband? You did it, you whore! You!” Laura screamed, underscoring her words with jabs of her bright red fingernails.

“You can call me whatever you like, but I’d rather be a whore and a slut than a sick, degenerate, alcoholic bitch.”

Veronica drew the phrase out as if doing so gave each word extra power.

Sick!

Degenerate!

Alcoholic!

Bitch!

Bianca still stood between the two women and held up her hands. “Let’s just calm down, okay?”

“Fuck you, and fuck your calm!” Laura shouted. “I’m gonna beat that bitch’s ass!”

Laura dropped her Hermès purse, pushed Bianca out of the way, and stepped toward the younger woman. The steps were unsteady for all their murderous intent, and she stumbled. Just then, one of the guests, a large African American woman, broke off from the group and moved in between the combatants.

“Laura, is it? Laura, can we take a minute?” the woman said.

Laura scowled. “Who the fuck are you, you fat bitch?”

The woman’s smile faded but only for a moment. “I’m Jessica, the party planner. I met you at the school, remember? You were picking up those adorable twin grandsons of yours, and I invited—”

“Get the fuck away from me.”

Laura pushed past Jessica and took another unsteady step. Almost as one, the women closest to Veronica hastily shifted to the other side of the room.

Bianca rushed to get in front of Laura, and Kristin moved quickly to intercept Veronica.

“Ladies,” Kristin said, “we’re supposed to be having fun. It’s a party, after all.”

“Some party,” Laura said. “I never would’ve come if I’d known you invited that no-good slut.”

“As I said, I’d rather be a slut than a degenerate alcoholic,” Veronica shot back.

“Oh, how the worm has turned,” Laura said. “You used to be quiet as a mouse when you worked for us. Oh, well, I guess you don’t talk so much when you’re scheming to fuck someone’s husband!”

“That’s not what happened,” Veronica said.

“That’s exactly how it happened, bitch. You weaseled your way into our office, then into my husband’s pants.”

“I loved him, and he loved me.”

“Yeah, right, bitch. You loved his money.”

“I didn’t care about money. I loved him.”

“And what about me?” Laura screamed. “I was his wife! I helped him build that business. I raised his kids. Then you came along and convinced him to divorce me. Next thing I know, he’s dead!”

“Convince him? Please! He finally opened his eyes and saw you for what you are.”

Laura’s face tightened. “That’s it, bitch. I’m gonna kill you!”

Laura stepped forward, fists clenched tightly and murder in her eyes. Her step was unsteady and the next even more so. She would have fallen if Bianca hadn’t held onto her arm.

“Ladies, ladies, it’s a pleasure party, not a UFC fight party. That’s next week,” Bianca said, trying to lighten the mood.

Laura scowled, and Bianca quickly released the grip on her arm. No one as much as grinned at her joke, and she continued in a sterner tone. “Remember, this is Kristin’s home, so please, let’s show some respect.”

Veronica’s face reddened, and she stayed seated, but Laura kept standing, staring at the younger woman with undisguised hatred.

“You killed him,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “You killed my husband. I hate you.”

“No,” Veronica said. “I brought Dave back to life. For years, you tortured him every damn day with your anger, insecurity, and evil ways!”

Laura’s face became even redder. “You had no right! He was my husband! Mine! And you killed him!” she screamed, tears burning trails through her makeup. “You killed my David!”

“Your David? Besides telling him how useless he was, what did you ever do for that poor, sweet man? He wasn’t your David anymore. He stopped being your David a long time ago.”

“You . . . fucking . . . whore . . . I . . . I . . .” Laura stammered, her face a mask of rage and pain. “You think this is over, bitch? It isn’t! This isn’t over!”

Laura shot Veronica one last, murderous look before she stalked out, slamming the door behind her.

 CHAPTER TWO

Kristin and Bianca - One Month Earlier

Kristin arrived at her son’s school and searched in vain for a parking space. She was early, school wouldn’t let out for another forty-five minutes, but as usual, there were no spaces anywhere close to the Oak Street Academy. She cruised around for a few minutes more before finding a space a few blocks away. She walked back to the school and sat on a faded green bench under a giant oak tree that spread gnarled branches over the street. Her seat gave her a clear view of the playground, and she watched the school’s only male instructor, Mr. Hector, play a wild game of tag with a group of screaming first graders. Hector was the school’s newest teacher, a twenty-something ex-Marine who seemed to have more muscles than brains, but he was gentle and patient and quickly became a favorite with the children. A favorite with the mothers, too, Kristin thought as she watched other mothers ogle Hector with undisguised lust. She quickly grew tired of watching them and dug in her purse for her iPhone and opened its e-book application. She’d bookmarked her page in the latest Shaun Harmon novel and couldn’t put it down. The bestselling author recently moved to their town, and his daughter had become fast friends with her son, Lucas. His new book was said to reveal explosive secrets about their town. She didn’t know if all that was true, but the man could certainly write an exciting novel.

“You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” Kristin’s best friend, Bianca, said when she arrived a few minutes later.

“Huh?”

“Oh, please,” Bianca said. “I see you sitting here, pretending to mess with your phone when it’s obvious you’re checking out Hector’s fine ass.”

“Um, no. I was reading the new Shaun Harmon book.” She held up the phone so Bianca could see.

“Whatever, girl. Denial’s not only a river in Egypt.”

Kristin rolled her eyes at her friend, who was now staring at the handsome teacher.

“You’re talking about me. You’re the one checking him out, hard!”

“I sure am. I mean, look at those arms! OMG! Can’t you feel him manhandling you, throwing you down, and just taking it?” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “Using those big-ass hands to choke you and pull your hair and smack your ass until it’s all red . . .”

She stopped talking when she noticed her friend staring at her.

“What?” Bianca asked.

“Choke you? Smack your ass?”

“Hey, ain’t nothing wrong with a little slap and tickle. Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“No thanks. I like my sex a little more . . . civilized.”

“Booooring. The rougher, the better.”

“I had no idea my best friend was such a freak. This is a new side of you.”

“Freaky deeky,” Bianca responded.

“Well, he is hot,” Kristin conceded. “Maybe I would have a chance with him. Hispanic men like a woman with a few curves and booty. God knows my ex sure didn’t.”

“Oh, please! There are plenty of guys who would love to date you. You’re a thick white girl with curves and booty, and a natural redhead at that. You’re damn near an endangered species! We should make a website for you or something,” Bianca said, laughing.

“Yeah, www.myexcouldnthandleallthis.com. I bet that’d get a lot of hits.”

“Yeah, but you’re not bitter, right?”

“Screw you,” Kristin said, laughing.

“Such language,” a voice said from behind them.

Kristin and Bianca smiled at the new arrival and scooted over to make room for her on the bench.

“Have a seat, Jessica. I was trying to counsel Kristin about her obsession with Mr. Hector.”

“What? We were not,” Kristin said, laughing. “Don’t pay her any mind, Jessica. Come sit down.”

“No thanks. I’ll stand,” Jessica said.

“There’s plenty of room,” Bianca said.

Jessica eyed the bench as if doing mental calculations involving the space on the bench and the proportions of her big backside.

“No, I’m okay,” she said, looking uncomfortable.

“Hey,” Kristin said, changing the subject, “we have the invitations.” She dug a stack of envelopes from her purse and handed them to Jessica. “I handed some out at the gym before I got here.”

“They look great,” Jessica said. “Now, who do you guys think we should hand them out to?”

“You’re the party planner,” Bianca said. “You tell us.”

“Well,” she said, “the thing about this kind of party is you never know who might come. The woman who looks like a freak might be a total prude and vice versa, so don’t go by looks alone. Hand them out to whomever and see what happens.” Jessica glanced at her watch. “If we’re gonna do it, we better hurry before the bell rings.”

She divided the invitations into three equal stacks and gave one each to Kristin and Bianca, keeping one for herself.

A few minutes later, they returned to the bench just before the bell rang, and the children poured outside like ants from an anthill.

“How’d we do, ladies?” Jessica asked above the joyful screams of the children. “I gave out all of mine.”

“So did I.”

“Me too.”

“Do you think they’ll come?” Kristin asked.

“They’ll come,” Jessica said. “A girl’s night out with food, a little alcohol, and sex toys is a winning combo, watch and see. Oh, there’s Brianne. Her ballet class starts soon. I have to run.”

After Jessica left, Kristin shot a look at Bianca. “I wish I could be as confident about this as she is,” she said.

“It’ll be fine. Like she said, liquor, sex toys, and food. What could go wrong? If someone invited me to a party like that, I’d be there in a hot minute.”

Kristin grinned at her friend. She loved how Bianca could see the bright side of anything. She, on the other hand, could always cloud up a sunny day, as her ex-husband, Stan, always said.

“Hey, don’t look so depressed,” Bianca said. “Wasn’t it you who had this idea? Have a pleasure party, you said. Let’s make a little extra money, you said. It’ll be fun, you said.”

Kristin frowned. “You’re my best friend. You should know I don’t have any damn sense. Why would you listen to me?”

“Girl, you’re so full of it. You’re a psychiatrist, for God’s sake. You’re the smartest person I know!”

“Psychologist. I didn’t go to medical school, as Stan was fond of reminding.”

“See, there you go again, putting yourself down. You need to stop it, girl.”

“It’s hard when someone put you down for the last ten years,” Kristin said sadly. “Stan never had anything good to say. I was too fat. I was only a psychologist, I was . . .”

“Forget that fool, Kristin! You’ve been divorced for almost two years. It’s about time you put it behind you, and this party is just the thing.”

Across the street, Bianca’s younger son, Christopher, spotted them and made a beeline for the bench. He grudgingly accepted a kiss and hug from his mother, said hello to Kristin, then sat on the bench and immediately became engrossed in his handheld video game.

“Even if it doesn’t work out, you can play with the toys yourself,” Bianca spoke under her breath so her son wouldn’t hear. “You haven’t been with a man since forever. I know you could use a good um, you know.”

“Toys?” Christopher asked. He paused the game and looked up curiously.

“That he hears,” Bianca said. “I scream for him to clean his room, and he’s deaf, but for this, he develops super hearing. No, honey,” she said to her son. “Not kids’ toys. Toys for, uh, adults.”

“Oh, boring,” Christopher said.

Kristin shook with silent laughter, and Bianca punched her shoulder playfully.

“I’m glad you think this is funny,” Bianca whispered.

“Don’t worry about it. You know how kids are. He’s probably forgotten about it already.”

“Mommy, what kind of toys do adults play with?” Christopher asked suddenly. Kristin and Bianca looked at one another, then went into fresh gales of laughter while a puzzled Christopher shook his head and resumed his game.

“Mom, are you guys okay?”

Kristin and Bianca looked up from their laughing fit to see both their fourth-graders standing in front of them. Kristin’s son, Lucas, and Bianca’s son, Max, stared at their mothers as if they had six heads.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Lucas asked again.

“I’m okay, honey.”

“What’s so funny?” Max asked.

“The adult toys,” Christopher said without looking up from his Nintendo.

Bianca and Kristin broke out into yet another gale of laughter at another mention of toys.

“I blame you for this,” Bianca said once their laughter subsided and they walked to their cars.

“Oh please, he’s already forgotten about it.”

“Right. Until Thanksgiving dinner when he tells my in-laws, Mommy plays with ‘adult’ toys.”

“Oh, speaking of in-laws, I saved an invitation for Gloria.” Kristin dipped her hand in her purse and handed the invitation to Bianca.

Bianca scowled. “Keep it. Ed already told his mother about the party.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what’s up with you and your mother-in-law?” Kristin asked. “I thought you guys got along great.”

Bianca sighed. “We used to, but . . .”

“But?”

“Nothing . . . it’s nothing.”

“So, you’re okay with bonding with your mother-in-law, who you don’t get along with, over giant dildos and cock rings?”

Bianca made a face but remained silent as she stared at the boys running and playing ahead of them.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me. Forget I asked,” Kristin said.

“No, it’s not that.”

“It’s fine, Bianca. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“I cheated on Ed,” Bianca blurted out.

“What?”

“I cheated on Ed. With his father.”

Kristin stopped dead in her tracks.

“What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

“You did. I slept with my father-in-law.”

Kristin’s mouth fell open. “Damn. I mean . . . holy crap.”

Their sons scampered almost a block ahead of them, and they began walking again to catch up.

“You must think I’m a huge whore,” Bianca said.

“Nah, I always thought you were a huge whore. This just confirms it.”

The two friends walked together, chuckling nervously.

“Okay, so I get why you would be uncomfortable around Will, but why Gloria? Does she know?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“Bianca, I have to ask. How on Earth did it happen? Did you, um, have a thing for Will?”

“No way! He’s sexy for an older man, I guess, but no, not really.”

“Then how?”

“Remember last summer when I told you Ed and I were having problems?”

“I remember.”

They arrived at their cars, and Bianca used her key fob to open the doors.

“Get in the car, boys. We’ll be leaving in a minute.”

The boys piled into the car, happy to have a few more minutes to spend together while their moms continued to talk.

“This was about the time Ed made partner at the law firm. He was working so much that even when he was home, he was so preoccupied it was like he wasn’t there,” Bianca said. “Our guest bathroom needed a lot of work which Ed planned to do himself. I told him we should just hire a contractor, but he loves to do that handyman stuff, but because of his caseload, he had no time. Anyway, his parents came to visit one weekend, and Will realized the bathroom wasn’t getting done, so he volunteered to do it. He’s pretty good at that kind of stuff, I think he did construction or something when he was younger, so we were glad to have his help. The plan was for him to stay with us during the week while he worked on the bathroom and go back home to New York on the weekends. Honestly, I was so lonely I was glad to have him around. Ed was busy, and the boys were about to leave for sleep-away camp, so I figured it would be nice to have a little company for a while.”

Bianca teared up and she paused.

“Bianca, you don’t have to tell me the details, honey. It’s okay.”

“No, I want to.” Bianca wiped her eyes and continued, “I swear something was different about Will that day. He was always a bit of a flirt, but before this, it seemed, you know, harmless. Sometimes, I would catch him staring at my chest, but he always looked away. Men have been staring at my boobs since I was twelve years old, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Kristin nodded. “Uh-huh. I know the feeling.”

“Right? Anyway, it was a little creepy—he was my father-in-law and all—but I let it go. Like I said, he always looked away, but that morning, he didn’t. Something was . . . different. There was tension in the air. Ed left early for New York, and the boys were already at camp, so we were all alone. He was like a predator, hunting me, you know?” She shook her head. “No, it was like he already caught me, only I didn’t know it. All morning he stared at my chest. I caught him looking a bunch of times, and he didn’t even look away like he usually did. He just smiled.”

Bianca sighed and leaned against the car. “It was kinda uncomfortable, but I tried to ignore it. Later on, I made lunch, and he suggested we should eat out by the pool and said he would make us some rum punch. The rum punch was delicious and super strong, and he just kept on refilling my glass. Before I knew it, I’d had too many drinks. It was a hot day, so he suggested we go swimming, and I said okay.” She paused to wipe the tears that were quickly forming. “So we were in the pool, just cooling off, you know, and things get weird.”

“Weird how?” Kristin asked, almost in a whisper. 

“I was in the water, and he kept walking around me, circling me like a shark, telling me how sexy I was. He said when he was younger, he had a girlfriend who looked just like me. He told me how hot she was and how much he enjoyed fucking her.”

“He said that?”

“He sure did. And the whole time, he’s still walking in circles in the water around me. Then he told me to guess what he liked most about his old girlfriend. It’s like I was hypnotized. I couldn’t say a word. Then he said he liked her because she loved to take it in the ass.”

“No! Way! He said that?”

“He did. Right there in our pool, Judge Will Truman, one of the most respected judges on the whole East Coast, hell, in the whole damn country, went into explicit detail about how he used to have anal sex with an old girlfriend.”

“Wow. I mean . . . wow!”

“As he’s talking, something floated up to me in the water, and I realized it was his damn swim trunks, Kristin. He was butt naked. I couldn’t help it. I looked down and, well, you know how when you look at something underwater, it looks kinda distorted?”

Kristin nodded, repulsed but at the same time entranced by the story.

Bianca looked around guiltily to make sure no one could hear her. “He was hard,” she whispered. “I swear it was about to pop out of the water like a telescope. He took my hand and put it down there, and it was no distortion, let me tell you. I know I should have stopped it then. I should have run out of the damn pool and cursed his old ass out.”

“What did you do?”

“I stroked it. I stroked it, and it got even harder, Kristin. And God help me, I swear I never wanted something so bad in all my life.”

She paused, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

“Then he made me get out of the water and lay down on the side of the pool, and he started kissing my thighs.”

Bianca’s eyes were still closed, and a slight smile appeared on her face.

“Kristin, I was so shocked, but I didn’t stop him because it felt so damn good to have someone want me. We did it right there by the side of the pool, and I knew it was wrong, but I loved it. I’ve never had so many orgasms in all my life. He treated me like some whore off the street. He pulled my hair, choked me, slapped my face, and spanked me. He fucked me to within an inch of my damn life, and, Kristin, I loved it. I. Could. Not. Get. Enough.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kristin said, her eyes wide. “So then what?”

“Then nothing. He got dressed and continued hanging drywall and cutting tiles. Me, I felt so guilty and confused I went inside and cried. I tried to fool myself into believing it was the alcohol that made us do it. Then I tried to blame Ed since he was working so much and I was lonely, but the truth was I wanted it. That’s the worst part, Kristin,” she said. “I knew what I was doing.”

Kristin hung her head and nodded. She knew all too well what her friend meant.

“Will went home a couple of weeks after, but I still felt guilty, and I guess Ed could tell something was up. One night he confronted me, and we had a huge argument. He said I’d been acting strange and asked point-blank if I was having an affair.”

Bianca pushed off of the car and stomped her foot.

“I should have lied to him, but I didn’t. I confessed. Kind of. How could I tell my husband I’d slept with his father? I told him an ex-boyfriend was in town, we met for lunch, and one thing led to another. I said it didn’t mean anything. I was lonely and vulnerable, and it just . . . happened.”

“What did he say?”

“I’d never seen him so mad, Kristin. The look on his face was pure rage! For a minute, I was sure he was going to hit me. And you know what? I wanted him to. I did! I craved the punishment.”

“You what?”

Bianca continued as if she hadn’t heard the question. “I swear to you. I would have been happy for him to choke me and then fuck me to within an inch of my life. I wanted it, just like his daddy gave it to me.”

Kristin couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Suddenly the remarks Bianca made earlier about getting treated roughly made sense.

The glazed look was gone when Bianca spoke again, and her voice returned to normal.

“He didn’t do any of those things. He calmed down and looked at me like I was some poor soul, then walked out the front door.”

“Did you ever find out where he went?” Kristin asked, looking down at her feet.

“No. He didn’t come back until after midnight, but when he got home, he was so calm it was almost scary. No—more than calm, he seemed happy. He said he loved me and forgave me, and we needed to find a counselor and work some things out. I’d just made a mistake, but things were going to be okay, he told me. Then he kissed me on the cheek, and he was asleep in about a minute flat. I don’t understand it. His wife told him she’d slept with another man, and he just fell asleep.”

“That was a good thing, right?”

“He and his mother are close, so I think he drove to New York and told Gloria everything.”

“Ahh . . . so that’s why you have such a thing about her. Do you think she knows what you did? Did she ever say anything?”

“Not a word. We saw them a bunch of times after that, and she was the same robotic Stepford Wife she always is. Everything was normal—even Will acted like nothing happened. But I’m pretty sure she knows.”

“Don’t you think if she knew her husband slept with her daughter-in-law, she would have said something by now?”

“I guess,” Bianca conceded. “But I just can’t shake the feeling something is going on. Call it woman’s intuition.”

“Or paranoia?”

“It’s more than that. Something’s up. I can feel it. Ed’s been different. He seems, I don’t know, happier.”

“What’s so bad about that?” Kristin asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Nothing, I guess.”

“I would leave it alone. It sounds like you dodged a bullet. Things could have turned out a lot worse.”

“I don’t know. Ed’s been ‘working late’ an awful lot lately. Maybe he found himself some floozy to run around with like Stan did.”

Kristin gritted her teeth and said nothing.

“Oh God, Kristin, I shouldn’t have mentioned your ex. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kristin said. “Bianca, the truth is you’re super guilty about what you did, and you’re projecting that guilt onto Ed. It’s making you see things that aren’t there.”

“There’s that psychology degree at work,” Bianca said. “I’m sure you’re right, but you should have seen him when he came home that night. There was no anger in him at all. I mean zero. Something happened when he went out, I’m sure of it. There’s something I don’t know, and it drives me crazy. I know I need to just let it go, but—”

“But nothing. My advice is to quit obsessing over some imaginary girlfriend and process what’s going on in your head. You did a bad thing, Bianca, and you feel terrible about it, so finding out Ed did the same thing would make you feel less guilty, but it doesn’t work like that. Ed probably had a couple of drinks and thought things through. Maybe he owned his part of the blame for what happened and came to terms with it. You should be grateful; most marriages wouldn’t have survived. Mine sure didn’t.”

“You’re right,” Bianca agreed. “But how do I let it go?”

“You made a terrible mistake, girl,” Kristin said. “But it’s not unforgivable. Nothing is. Sleeping with Will was a mistake you made. It’s not who you are.”

“What do you mean?”

“What people do, especially we women is take our mistakes and make them a part of who we are, our identity. So instead of saying, ‘I’m a person who stole,’ we say, ‘I’m a thief.’ Or instead of saying, ‘I’m a person who cheated,’ we say, ‘I’m a cheater.’ Understand?”

Bianca nodded, fighting tears.

“But our mistakes are just that, mistakes. They’re not who we are. So remember that and forgive yourself. That’s how you move on.”

“I’ll try,” Bianca said. The boys began a loud argument in the car, and she knocked on a window to quiet them.

“Let’s get these boys home before they kill each other,” Bianca said, wiping her eyes.

“I think you’re right,” Kristin replied. She opened Bianca’s car door and motioned her son out.

“I’m glad I told you, Kristin,” Bianca said once Lucas was in Kristin’s car. “I needed to get that off my chest. So, do you want to hang out later? I’ll bring the boys over for a playdate. Ed’s working late again.” She rolled her eyes.

“Ah, n-no,” Kristin stammered. “Lucas is spending the weekend with his dad, and I, uh . . . have a client this evening. Then I’m going to stay at the office and catch up on my notes.”

“I thought you didn’t see clients on Fridays?”

“I don’t usually, but this one is in crisis, and since Lucas will be with Stan, I figured I’d make an exception,” Kristin said, surprised at how smoothly the lie slid from her mouth.

“We’re a couple of high rollers, aren’t we? Such big plans on a Friday night. Well, girl, thanks for listening and not judging me, and thank you for the advice. I love you, Kristin. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Kristin smiled. “I love you too.”

The friends hugged goodbye. Then Bianca started her car and took off down the street, shouting at her warring sons.

Kristin made sure Lucas was securely buckled in then started her car, but tears blurred her vision. She wondered if she would ever have the courage to confess to Bianca she knew precisely where Ed went that fateful night, but she knew she never would. She didn’t have the courage. Kristin wiped away her tears and checked the rear-view mirror to ensure her son hadn’t noticed her crying. Then she started the car again and headed home.

 “You killed my husband, bitch! Trust me, this isn’t over!”

Laura’s words hung in the air like a terrible smell while the women listened to her unsteady footsteps as she stomped down the driveway, slammed her car door, then burned rubber and sped away.

As the sound of Laura’s car faded, all eyes turned to the young woman to whom her toxic words were directed, but Veronica, red-faced and crying, fled from the room, leaving behind a stunned silence.

“Ladies, I swear we’re not shooting a reality show,” Jessica joked a moment later, trying to clear the air. No one laughed.

Bianca and Kristin glanced at one another. Then Bianca forced a smile and faced her guests, who were still standing around, shocked looks on their faces.

“Okay, girls, that happened, but we have a ton of good food, plenty of liquor, and lots of fun toys, so let’s get this party back on track.” She filled glasses with sangria and handed them to the subdued guests.

Kristin left Bianca to try to salvage the party and hurried out to the deck, where Veronica sat, crying silently.

“I’m sorry,” Kristin said as she sat down. “We didn’t know . . .”

“It’s not your fault,” Veronica said. “Willows is a small town. I knew I was bound to run into Laura sooner or later. I thought I would be better prepared when it happened, you know? I had so many things I wanted to say, but . . .”

“It’s okay, Veronica. It’s not your fault.”

“I swore I would never mess with a married man, then I met Dave. He was the nicest, most generous human being I’ve ever known, but he was so sad inside. Laura just beat him down. She treated him like shit, and he didn’t deserve it.”

She began to cry again, and Kristin offered her a tissue.

“God, what these women must think of me,” Veronica said. “God, what must you think of me?”

“I don’t know about them, but I sure don’t think any less of you.”

“Riiight.”

“It’s true,” Kristin said, thinking of her own secret and what would happen if it were made public. “No one’s perfect. We’ve all got our skeletons.”

“Not like this,” Veronica said.

“Oh, you’d be surprised. Anyway, I’m not judging you, and neither is Bianca.”

“Then you’re the only ones. They’re probably wondering which one of their husbands I’ll steal next.”

“Hey, maybe a few of them are hoping you will.”

Veronica smiled. “Thanks, Kristin. You’re being very nice about this, but I think I’m gonna go.”

“You’re not going anyplace except to the bathroom to fix your makeup. Then you’re getting your butt back inside and buying so many toys you won’t need a man anytime soon.”

Veronica shook her head. “I’m going, Kristin. If I stay, your party will be ruined.” She sighed. “Who am I kidding? It probably already is.”

“I wish you would stay.”

“Kristin, would you stay if you were me?”

“No, I guess I wouldn’t. Come with me. I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

Kristin showed Veronica to the restroom and then returned to the party, happy to see their guests looked much less stunned as they talked among themselves. Bianca and Jessica pulled her into the kitchen and huddled at the kitchen table.

“Is she okay?” Bianca asked.

“Okay as she can be, I guess. She just got called a slut and a whore in front of a room full of strangers.”

“She deserved it because that’s what she is,” Jessica said. “I feel terrible for Laura. My mother went through the same thing. One day my dad suddenly up and got himself some young whore, divorced mother, and—poof—he was gone.”

“Are you kidding me right now? Bianca asked. “It’s Laura’s fault. She’s a psycho. Who wouldn’t leave her crazy ass?”

Jessica shook her head. “How would you feel if you showed up somewhere and your husband’s side chick was there? You might go a little psycho too.”

“You might have a point there,” Bianca admitted.

Kristin turned red and quickly changed the subject. “That’s neither here nor there. The drama is over, so let’s figure out a way to salvage this party before everyone leaves.”

“They’re not going anywhere now,” Jessica said. “A little drama is a good thing. I guarantee this is a party they will never forget.” She picked up a pitcher of margaritas and put on a big smile. “Okay, ladies, let’s get this party started,” she said as she walked back into the living room, holding the pitcher high.

As the kitchen door swung shut, Kristin gave Bianca a side-eye, hands on her hips. “Let’s throw a pleasure party, you said,” she called in a high, mocking voice. “We’ll make a little money, you said. It’ll be fun, you said.”

Bianca laughed. “You worry too much. You heard Jessica. She’s right—a little drama will be good for sales.”

“Oh really? I wonder what she’ll say when they start slamming each other across the head with my furniture like Hulk Hogan and the Macho Man in the WWF.”

“Hulk Hogan? WWF? Girl, you need to get up on your wrestlers. That was like a hundred years ago. It’s the WWE now.”

“You get the point. It’s gonna be a disaster. I just know it.”

Bianca rolled her eyes as she removed trays of appetizers from the oven. “You’re my best friend, Kristin, but you can be a real Debbie Downer sometimes.”

“Maybe,” Kristin said. “But you have to admit what just happened was reality-show level crazy. And did you see your mother-in-law’s face? She looked mortified!”

Bianca’s face fell. “Yeah, well, she’s the one who invited herself along. I didn’t tell her to bring her happy hips from New York to crash our party.”

As if on cue, the kitchen door opened, and Gloria walked in.

“Well, that was an auspicious start,” she joked. “I felt like I was in a scene from Days of Our Lives.”

Kristin smiled at the older lady’s joke, but Bianca said nothing. She continued to pile appetizers on trays, looking uncomfortable.

“Do you need any help?” Gloria asked after a moment’s awkward silence.

“No,” Bianca began.

“Thanks, Gloria,” Kristin interrupted. “We would love some help.” She pointed to the tray of coconut shrimp Bianca had prepared. “Could you take these out to the ladies, please?”

“Certainly, honey,” Gloria said as she took the tray and disappeared into the living room.

“Do you need any help?” Bianca mimicked after her mother-in-law was safely out of earshot.

“Will you stop?”

“She knows,” Bianca said. “I can feel it.”

“No, she doesn’t. Don’t you think if she did she would have said something? What kind of woman attends a party with the woman who screwed her husband and—”

“Kristin! Shhhhhh!” Bianca opened the kitchen door a sliver and peeked out to ensure no one was within earshot.

“See, now you’re acting guilty,” Kristin said. “Stop being so paranoid. If Gloria knew about you and Will, we would have another Laura-type situation.”

“No way. That’s not her style. She keeps that crazy smile on her face and pretends everything is okay no matter what. Ed’s the same way. The two of them are buttoned up so damn tight. God, I’m so sick of them.”

“Maybe you’re right about Gloria’s personality,” Kristin said, bristling at Bianca’s insult of Ed. “But think about it. This situation is completely different from anything in the past. Her daughter-in-law fucked her husband—that might get a rise out of her if she knew, don’t you think?”

Bianca stamped her foot, then peeked out again into the living room. “Kristin!” she hissed. “Will you stop saying that? OMG, it’s like you want someone to hear you.”

“Will you relax? No one can hear us. Anyway, Gloria doesn’t know. You have nothing to worry about.”

Bianca exhaled. “I guess you’re right. I lectured you about being a downer a minute ago; now look at me.”

“It’s okay, hon. You’re just stressed. Remember when we met Jessica a couple of months ago and decided to throw this crazy party? What did we say we would do, no matter what?”

“Have fun,” Bianca replied unenthusiastically.

“Have fun,” Kristin repeated. “If we’re not going to have fun, we might as well tell everyone to go home.”

“You’re right,” Bianca said. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Let’s go out there, drink some alcohol, and sell some big ol’ dongs.”

“To hell with that,” Bianca said, laughing and raising her glass. “Let’s go out there, drink all the alcohol, and buy some big ol’ dongs.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Kristin said, raising her glass in agreement.

They returned to the living room, where their guests seemed to have recovered from the shock of Laura’s appearance and were busy discussing the drama they had witnessed.

“So the husband died while in bed with her?” Asked a pretty blond, chuckling. “Damn, she must have some killer pussy. Get it? Killer pussy?”

Gloria looked aghast. “Really, young lady? Is that appropriate?”

The blond chuckled again. “The name’s not young lady. It’s Brooke. And that was a pretty funny joke.”

“Cheating is not funny,” Jessica said. “I feel for that poor woman.”

“You feel sorry for that lunatic?” a tall, thin woman asked, rolling her eyes. “That bitch is obviously—”

“Maya!” a fit-looking older woman with stylish short hair said. “Judge much?”

Maya smiled. “Maybe you’re right, Tina, but you have to admit the chick was mental. Thank God she left.”

“You might be mental too if your husband died in his young girlfriend’s bed,” Gloria said.

Bianca rolled her eyes at her mother-in-law’s comment. “I’m with Maya. That bitch looked crazy. If I were her husband, I might have found me a side chick too.”

Gloria scowled. “There is never an excuse for infidelity, Bianca. They took vows, and he broke them. Period, end of story.”

“Life is too short to be unhappy,” Bianca said. “Her husband went out and found happiness. I say good for him.”

“Amen,” Maya said, looking lovingly at Tina.

Gloria was about to respond when a petite Indian woman spoke up. “Excuse me, but wasn’t he the wealthy real-estate person? With the ads on the bus stops?”

“I think you’re right, Dr. Dee,” Tina said. “My husband and I bought our first house from his company.”

“Have we met?” the Indian woman asked.

Tina smiled. “I think I’ve read every magazine in your waiting room. You were my daughter’s OB/GYN. I took her to your office a bunch of times before she was old enough to go on her own.”

“Ahhhh shit, we have a gynecologist in the house. I bet you can tell us about killer pussy. Right, doc?” Brooke asked the embarrassed doctor.

No one laughed, and Brooke made a face. “Y’all are a bunch of squares. That’s still a funny-ass joke.”

“I think my son and daughter-in-law bought their home from his company, too,” Gloria said. She held out her hand to the woman who’d spoken. “I’m Gloria, by the way.”

The woman shook her hand. “I’m Tina, and this is my, uh, friend, Maya,” she said, gesturing to the tall, thin woman.

Maya nodded hello to Gloria.

“Since we’re making introductions, I’m Brooke,” the blond woman said.

Kristin smiled. “I think you’re going to be the life of this party, Brooke.”

“Hell yeah! C’mon, it’s time to get this party started.”

An embarrassed-looking Veronica entered the room, and all conversation ceased.

“Thanks for inviting me, ladies, but I’m going to go. I hope you have a great time. I’m sorry for all the drama,” she said.

“Bye, Felicia,” Jessica said under her breath.

Kristin shot Jessica a nasty look. “Veronica, I meant what I said earlier. You’re welcome to stay,” she said.

“Thanks, but I’m going. I’m sorry this happened. I didn’t mean to—”

The front door flew open with a bang, startling them. “Going somewhere, whore?” a familiar voice said.

“Oh, hell nah,” Bianca said under her breath.

“Laura. I’m happy you decided to rejoin us.” Jessica said in a cheerful tone. “Veronica is just leaving, so if you want to take a seat, we’ll . . .”

Laura glared at Jessica as if she were something distasteful on the bottom of her shoe.

“She ain’t going nowhere,” Laura said.

Veronica shook her head in disbelief. “Get out of my way. Your bullying won’t work on me. I refuse to take it.”

“Refuse nothing, bitch. You’ll take whatever the fuck I tell you to take,” Laura said as she pulled a shiny revolver from her purse and pointed it at Veronica’s chest.

Veronica’s olive complexion went deathly pale.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Laura said with a smirk, gesturing toward the couch with the pistol. “Now sit the fuck down! I told you this wasn’t over.”