One Gray Autumn Afternoon

By Fernanda Castillo Nájera

A romantic novel between a young man who moves to Virginia to study Law at Georgetown University and an older woman -Alice- who is a freelance photographer at a magazine in Washington, D.C. In the story there are also other important characters, among them Georgia and Susa

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookTrail Publishing
• Release date: Jan 23, 2022
• ISBN: 9781637676271

Book preview

DEDICATION

For my mom and dad.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’d like to thank the father of my children for his support while I was writing this book and my cousin Erma Cárdenas, my late father, and Jessica Bourse for all their help.

Part I

ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA 1992

CHAPTER 1

The house was big, somehow elegant, because of the Victorian style of its facade. The small garden surrounding it gave it a rustic English look that made it even more appealing, even if the grass was a bit overgrown. The path leading to the front door was encircled by some bushes that enhanced its greenness over the concrete tile.

The young man’s eyes looked at it, though pleased, with a shadow of suspicion. With disbelief, he looked down into the newspaper to double-check the ad. It was impossible that the monthly rent for a room in that area, services included, was so low. No, surely there was a printing error. Most likely, the real amount to pay was out of his reach. He turned on his feet getting ready to leave, sighing with disappointment.

Just when he was about to cross the street, a car pulled into the driveway and blocked his path. The car was a blue convertible. He couldn’t tell the year or make of the vehicle because his knowledge about cars was scarce, but he thought it was a classic. The driver walked toward him.

Did you come to check the room?

The voice, warm and friendly, came from a woman in her early forties. The youngster examined her with a glance: her hair, red and curly, went down her shoulders, and he noticed the delicate features on her face as well as her round brown eyes.

Hesitant, he babbled, Yes, that’s why I’m here.

The woman got off the car and circled it to approach him. Her body, he noticed, was well proportioned. She was over five feet five. Stretching out her hand to him, she introduced herself.

I’m Susan Blake. I own the house.

Shyly, he answered, Matthew. Matthew Hart.

With a smile, Susan watched him for a second.

Well, she said, do you want to see it?

Matthew didn’t dare tell her what he was thinking. Deep inside, he was sure that if he went in the house, he’d come out minutes later with the sad news that the ad had been printed with an error. His thoughts were interrupted again by her voice. She was looking at him, in expectation.

Do you want to see it, or not?

He didn’t want to look like an idiot, so without thinking it over, he answered, I believe there’s a mistake in the ad.

What? Susan asked, surprised. Where?

Softly, she took the newspaper from his hand to check it. In a loud voice, she read:

Room for rent, for one person from twenty to fifty years old, gender not important. Services included. Four hundred dollars a month. Forcing a smile, she added, I can’t find the mistake, that’s exactly what I asked to have published.

Matthew looked at her for a while, in disbelief. It must be a pigsty, he told himself. That’s probably why the rent is so low. However, Susan’s tidy though casual look made him doubt.

Oh. Then I’d like to see it.

Moving forward, Susan walked into the house while she looked eagerly inside her purse for her keys.

Damn it! It’s always the same! I have so much stuff inside that I never find the keys, she said, stopping at the door.

The boy smiled, feeling a little bit more at ease. When she found the keys, she dangled them at Matthew and shook them like a bell.

Well! At last! she said triumphantly.

The moment the door opened, Matthew’s blue eyes looked pleased at the sitting room: the old pieces of furniture contrasted with the big pots full of healthy leafy plants, showing their inhabitants’ good taste. The fireplace in one of the walls excited him—he had always wanted to sit in front of a fire that warmed up his home while the freezing wind blowing outside dragged the snowflakes to the glass windows. Susan kept on talking as she showed him the house and pointed out some details, but he hadn’t heard a word, enraptured as he was by his childish dream.

Matthew? Do you want to go up to see the room? she asked, walking to the stairs.

Back from his thoughts, he was embarrassed when he felt exposed at his lack of attention to her words and only got to stammer, I’m sorry, I was looking around… this place is incredible.

Pleased, Susan smiled. She actually thought so herself and felt proud of it.

Well, the credit’s not all mine, she said.

Are you married?

An outburst of laughter came out from her mouth. God, no!

Matthew looked at her with curiosity, and she immediately explained.

No, no. Not at all! I was, long ago, but that’s ancient history now. Hey, she continued, while she signaled him to follow her, I’ll show you to the bedroom. Let’s see if you like it.

He went up the stairs, while she kept talking nonstop.

I inherited this house from my uncle when he died. He had no other relative to leave it to. She opened the door to the room. I’ve been having some money problems, and there’s still some debt on the property. How do you like it?

His eyes looked the place over. Matthew felt his heart beat fast, not believing his good luck. The room was spacious, and the sunlight came in through the window, illuminating it completely. Even though the furniture was not very luxurious, it looked fine and didn’t show traces of dust. The carpet also looked clean. Susan walked into another door at the back of the room.

She opened it. Here is the bathroom, and the place is really warm. I can assure you whoever sleeps in here will not be cold during the winter.

Matthew looked inside; and after casting a quick glance, he said, not giving it a second thought, I’ll take it! He then added, with more control, Well, that’s if you approve.

Susan smiled, and when they were out of the room, she closed the door.

Let’s see. I’ll show you to the kitchen. There we can check your references, and I’ll tell you how things work around here. Maybe you’ll want to think it over…

Matthew interrupted her, while they went down the stairs. No, no! If you want me to, I’ll give you a deposit.

The woman walked into the kitchen. In there, she pointed at a chair and invited him to sit. Then she got a jug inside the microwave oven.

Would you like some coffee?

Yes, if you are having some too.

Susan took out two mugs from the cupboard.

Sugar? she offered, looking him in the eye.

No, thanks. I’ll have it black.

While she poured the steaming hot coffee, she asked with a serious tone of voice, What do you do, Matthew?

Suddenly, the boy felt uneasy at her inquiring expression, and in his mind he wondered if she considered him infantile. However, he made an effort to fake determination.

I’m studying. Law school. I just got me a part-time job.

Oh. Where do you live at the moment?

Visibly nervous, he answered, I’m staying at a boardinghouse… He was quiet for a moment. It turns out I can’t give you any references.

Susan tossed and turned in her seat, the smile fading from her lips.

How come?

You see, I got in DC a week ago. I got a scholarship, and that is why I’ll be able to finish my studies in Georgetown.

Okay. Where is your hometown, Matthew?

Youngstown, Ohio.

And what brought you here?

Frankly, except for school, nothing.

Oh. Susan sipped her coffee, and over her mug, she stared at him. Matthew looked down and lowered his hand to the pocket of his jacket to take out a pack of Marlboros. He timidly offered her one.

May I?

Susan’s delicate fingers grabbed the cigarette and put it to her lips.

You are in luck, kiddo.

Not understanding what she meant, he frowned.

Yes, Matthew. Smoking is not allowed at every boardinghouse, but here, it is. Besides, you’re in the presence of a very good lawyer.

The mood lifted and he laughed in disbelief.

Really? You are a lawyer?

And one of the best, though not a wealthy one. Susan inhaled the smoke from the cigarette. You see… litigating does not mean to me what it does to most attorneys. I don’t see it as a million-dollar business but as a way to contribute to what I believe justice is. Unfortunately, most times the people who need us don’t have enough money to pay. But I really don’t care that much for money, although right now, as I told you, I have some financial problems. How old are you?

Twenty-three.

And why are you in law school?

Matthew smiled and shrugged.

I don’t know. ’Cause I like it, I guess. Maybe for the same reason you were.

Susan shook her head in disapproval.

Then you should be aware that you’ll never be rich.

The smile faded away from his lips. I don’t see money as one of the main reasons for having chosen this career either.

The sound of a door opening interrupted their conversation. At a distance, they heard a voice that called the redhead by her name; and almost shouting, she immediately answered.

Here, in the kitchen! Turning to Matthew, she explained, That’s Georgia. She lives here too.

Suddenly, the kitchen door opened to give way to a voluptuous blonde who wore a tight pair of jeans and a shirt. She was holding two bags of groceries.

Could someone give me a hand? she asked, breathing with effort. It seemed like the bags weighted tons. Hurrying, Matthew got up and freed her from one, as she indicated with her look, Just put it there.

Susan helped her with the second bag and looked inside.

More vegetables? Georgia, what is it with you? Where is the meat?

Her wide and charming smile showed a nice set of teeth. I’m on a diet, sweetie.

But I’m not, and I’m sick of being a vegetarian because of your choices! I do like meat, you know? protested Susan.

As she kept a carton of skimmed milk in the fridge, Georgia said indifferently, It’s healthy for you not to eat it so often. Besides, meat’s got a lot of toxins.

Susan turned to Matthew.

Unbelievable! This woman would starve us to death if she could. Then with a look of annoyance in her face, she sat down as he did so too and inhaled the smoke from her cigarette. Sit down for a minute, will you, Georgia?

After she did, Georgia innocently asked, as if she had just noticed the stranger’s presence, We haven’t met, have we?

Matthew shook his head, while Susan ironically added, No, Georgia. I don’t think so. This is Matthew… ?

When he realized Susan’s oblivion, the youngster hasted to finish the sentence.

Hart. Matthew Hart.

Oh! I’m Georgia Brown, she added, as she extended her hand to greet him.

Susan got up from her seat and, grabbing the young man’s empty mug, offered him more coffee. She filled it again and then turned to her friend.

Matt… Her eyes looked at his, asking mutely if he didn’t mind being called like that. He shrugged, indifferently. Matt came to see the room, she offered the mug and sat again.

Georgia examined him for a second and asked, raising her eyebrows.

So, did you like it?

While she put her cigarette out, Susan announced, It seems we are looking at our new roommate. Then she turned to him and added, Let’s forget about those references. You look like a nice kid. Where did you say you work?

I’ll start working on Monday, he corrected. At La Lorraine, waitering.

Oh! exclaimed Susan, with a pleased expression. That’s a very fancy French restaurant, isn’t it?

As far as I’m concerned, he answered.

Once again, being in front of the two women made him feel uneasy, it would have never crossed his mind that he would be living with people of the opposite sex, much less that they’d be older than him. He felt a little foolish and immature, but apparently they didn’t notice the perception he had of himself at the moment because Susan just kept on talking.

I was about to tell Matt the house rules when you arrived.

With an expression of naivete that Matthew later learned to be one of Georgia’s features, she turned to him.

It’s no big deal, she said. We can do whatever we want, as long as we respect each other. Well, we don’t do drugs.

Susan interrupted her.

Georgia… could we clear up some other issues first? Not leaving room for an argument, she addressed Matthew. Food, of course, is not included in the rent. Usually, we go to the market once a week and split the bill in three. If you want, we will include you and split it in four. It would be very convenient for you.

Puzzled, Matthew raised his hand, asking for a break.

Wait, you split it in three? Is there someone else living here, besides you two?

Not paying much importance to the question, Susan answered, Oh yes. I forgot to mention Alice; she’s another friend of ours, but right now she’s out of the country on a business trip.

God! thought Matthew. Would he be able to live with three strangers? A little bit disappointed, he asked with caution, There’s only three of you? No one else?

Susan stopped talking and watched him thoroughly for a second.

Is that a problem? Are you gay or something?

Oh no! No! It just turns out that… I don’t know. He nervously laughed. It’s going to be weird for me. I’ve never lived with women, except for my mother, and she passed away three years ago. I have no sisters.

Amused, Georgia laughed. She grabbed an apple from the fruit basket.

It won’t be that bad. Besides… we don’t bite, she assured him, while she bit the fruit emphatically.

Matthew felt his face blush with embarrassment. Stop acting like some dumb teenager! he told himself, as he answered, I suppose not.

Returning to their conversation, Susan meddled, We were talking about the food, would you like to do it that way or would you rather buy yours separately?

No, no. That’s fine with me.

Another thing, we take turns to cook. Do you cook?

Astonished, Matthew laughed. What kind of question was that? What the hell would he know about cooking? he thought.

Except for sandwiches and eggs, I don’t think so.

Well, kid, you don’t need to be a genius. Here, we all do our best; and I tell you, it isn’t much. Besides that… Susan drank her coffee and noticed Georgia was trying to tell her something with her eyes, Wait a minute, Georgi! she exclaimed and then continued, As Georgia said before, we can do whatever we please, except drugs. She stopped talking and looked at him, intrigued. Do you do drugs, Matt?

Surprised and annoyed by the question, the boy protested, Of course not!

Noticing he was a little upset, she hurried to say, I’m not trying to pry into your private life, but if we are going to live together, we have to establish some rules and one of them, though we don’t think of ourselves as puritans, she emphasized this, is we don’t allow drugs here, because we don’t like them and we don’t want any trouble with the cops.

Georgia, studying the boy with her eyes, gave her apple a last bite while Susan leaned toward him to say as if in secrecy, But if you like it, you can have a joint every now and then… That’s the only illegal drug we allow, as long as it doesn’t become a habit. She leaned on her chair and laughed mischievously. On the other hand, you can bring your sweethearts and have your romantic affairs, as long as you don’t do it on the table or in the living room, if you know what I mean… Whenever you want to have your fun, you’ll have to do it in your own bedroom. We are kind of conservative about that and believe that kind of thing should be private, don’t you agree?

By then, Matthew didn’t know if he should laugh or cry and wondered if he should move or not into the house with those women, who, in his opinion, seemed to be nuttier than a fruit cake.

With a weak smile, the boy sighed and muttered, in response to Susan’s question.

Sure.

The autumn wind blew on Matthew’s face when he closed the door behind him and the soft rays from the evening sun reflected in his eyes, just before disappearing in the horizon. Right then, he wondered again if he had made the right choice when he agreed to live there. Although the women seemed to be nice people, he hesitated for a moment. However, when he recalled the image of the place that had made such a good impression in him as well as Susan’s conditions, he convinced himself everything would be all right. Besides, she hadn’t even bothered him with the references.

While he walked in the street full of trees that started to show traces of an early snowfall in their naked branches, he repeated to himself he had done the right thing. He pulled his scarf over his nose, rubbed his freezing hands and put them inside his pockets, as he ran to catch the bus that was just arriving at the stop.

What do you think?" Susan asked Georgia, as she peeked through the window to see the boy disappearing at the end of the street.

Shivering with cold, the blonde rubbed her shoulders vigorously.

I don’t know. I think he’s a nice kid…, she said, not giving too much importance to the question, then walked toward the fireplace, where she put a log. What do you think Alice will say? She wasn’t very happy with the idea of having male guests at home, she added as she lit it.

Susan stepped away from the window and pulled out a cigarette from the pack. She sat on the couch in silence, while her eyes followed the spreading flames that danced around the log, licking it with their blue and yellow tongues.

Susan? Georgia insisted, while she walked toward a small rolling table where bottles containing different kinds of liquor started to reflect sparkles from the fire. Are you listening? After pouring brandy in two glasses, she handed her friend one and finished her phrase, But I’m sure she’ll understand.

With an annoyed expression in her face, Susan turned to her.

And if she doesn’t, she lit her cigarette, I couldn’t care less! It was a relief she was away when the kid came to check the room; otherwise, right now I’d be sweating bullets if Alice had driven him away in her very own ‘discreet way.’

Once more, both kept silent, hypnotized by the fire.

For two or three minutes, they kept absorbed in their thoughts. Actually, from the very beginning, Alice had opposed to the decision of renting the room to a male individual. But according to Susan, her friend’s motives were totally absurd, and she sensed that the real reason was that Alice feared having a confrontation with her boyfriend, Tom, although she wouldn’t express it. Her roommates considered him to be a hideous and obscene person that got his kicks out of mortifying Alice by pretending to be jealous of other men, just to cover up for his own infidelity. On the other hand, even if she didn’t seem to notice, it was obvious to her friends that the man used any kind of excuse to avoid a serious relationship, and they were almost certain he was married, even though they had never told her. Automatically, Susan whispered,

I don’t know what she sees in that punk.

Her words brought Georgia back from her thoughts, and looking out the corner of her eye, she nodded. Me neither.

Willing to change the subject, Susan turned to her.

Do you think I should have insisted on the references? she asked.

Well… I just hope he’s not a serial killer.

Susan quietly stared at her for a second. The comment from her friend got her doubting the decision she had made and gave her a sudden feeling of anxiety.

I think I better call him to…

Come on, Susan. I was just kidding! Georgia interrupted her. The kid looks decent, and if you have any doubts, just call the restaurant. To tell you the truth, I thought it was odd from you to let that ‘little’ detail slip by, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person… As a matter of fact, according to my standards, I would catalogue him rather as kind of boring.

Susan smiled.

I wonder what your standards are… Anyway, it pained me to see how worried he was when I asked him for the references, but in fact, he doesn’t look like a bad guy.

CHAPTER 2

Matthew moved into the room two days later, on a Saturday morning. He really didn’t have much trouble settling down; his belongings were few: some books, a suitcase with his clothes and personal hygiene articles, an alarm clock, an old picture of his parents with him and his older brother, and finally a guitar he had never bothered learning to play. After putting everything in order inside the dresser and the closet, he decided to take a bath. It was eleven in the morning, and the gray and cold day showed signs of a new snowfall. Waiting for the tub to fill up, he walked toward the window and opened it, inhaling the freezing air that flooded his lungs with a sensation of freshness. Admiring the view, he imagined how beautiful the cherry trees would look when they blossomed in the spring, and once again he congratulated himself for having decided to rent the room. Satisfied with the thought, he told himself the only thing he needed in order to feel complete was a stereo and some records. With his first paycheck, he would put a down payment to get one. Happy with this idea, he went to the bathroom and got his clothes off. Inside the warm water, he felt relaxed and happy, and he remained immersed for a long while, with his eyes closed.

With a feeling of drowsiness, he heard the distant voices of whom, from that moment on, would be his roommates and decided it would be a nice gesture to go down and say hi to them. Taking all the time in the world, he shampooed his hair and washed his body. When he finished, he dried himself vigorously, then he put on a pair of jeans and a gray turtleneck sweater that made his blue eyes stand out.

Minutes later, he entered the kitchen where both women were having breakfast, chatting and laughing about god knew what. When they saw him come in, they stopped their conversation. Surprised, Susan exclaimed, Oh! You are here.

Yes. I rang the bell but nobody answered, and I decided to use my key so I wouldn’t wake you up. I thought you were asleep.

Georgia laughed happily. We were! We went to bed at 5:00 a.m.

Matt walked toward the coffeemaker, grabbed a cup, and asked shyly, May I?

Susan smiled and gestured with her hand for him to go ahead. After doing so, he took a chair and sat at the table.

Did you go to a party?

Something like that…, said his blonde roommate, nodding while a mischievous smile formed in her lips.

The two women exchanged a glance of complicity that did not pass unnoticed to him, and Susan immediately changed the subject.

We’re going to the market, wanna come? It would be convenient, so you can give yourself an idea of what we usually get and for us to see some of the stuff you like.

Matthew sipped his coffee and thought about it for a moment. He hadn’t planned a visit to the market because he really wanted to rest that last weekend before starting to work. But he thought it would be good to do so if he wanted to get familiarized with his new roommates’ habits and personalities. Smiling softly, he nodded.

Yeah, sure…, he said, not very enthusiastically.

That night, at bed, Matthew felt glad again he was there. His two roommates turned out to be very nice, and Susan seemed to be someone with whom he would be able to have interesting conversations. Unlike her, it seemed to him Georgia was not the kind of person that could talk about very profound subjects, but at least she was nice, and his situation was certainly much better than having to share a room with a moron who would throw a stinking pair of socks on his pillow. Exhausted, he experienced a lethargic feeling overwhelm him, and his last thought before falling asleep was that of a shiny new stereo on top of the dresser.

CHAPTER 3

He had been living there for one week already when he finally met Alice. It was ten o’clock at night, and Susan was not back from her office yet. Georgia, who worked as a hostess in a very prestigious hotel in downtown Washington, was out with her boyfriend of the day. Susan used to make that remark—which did not take him long to understand—because Georgia’s heart was as big as the Sears Tower, meaning she constantly fell in love to later get disillusioned of the men she went out with. It was funny, Matt thought, that a woman as good looking as her had never been married. However, he had noticed that the reason probably was that her dissertations could exasperate anyone, even Susan, with whom she often argued. Though at the end, they would stay as best friends as ever.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Matthew nibbled on a sandwich that he ate along with a glass of milk, while—for the hundredth time—he read Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment. The noise from the main entrance lock as it opened distracted him for a moment, and after glancing at the kitchen door over his reading glasses, he continued to devour the lines with his eyes.

The steps he heard on the corridor’s wooden floor stopped for a second by the stairs and then approached the kitchen. Suddenly, the door opened, and he saw the shape of a woman. Studying her, the boy noticed she was slim, though not as tall as his other roommates. Her short dark hair was cut in a boyish style, and her big black eyes observed him with surprise for a second. In his mind, the young man imagined she most probably had felt terrified when she saw a stranger sitting there, but opposite to what he expected, Alice asked in a calm voice,

May I ask who the hell you are and what you’re doing here at this time of night?

Not knowing what to answer, Matthew just babbled, I…

Before he could continue, she interrupted him.

Oh! Let me guess. You must be a friend of Georgia’s, right?

Her inquisitive and aggressive attitude intimidated him a little, and closing his book, he hurried to say, No. I rented the bedroom upstairs.

Perplexed, Alice looked at him for a minute. Then she let out a sigh of resignation.

Oh… I’m Alice. I suppose they told you about me, she said with a tone of disenchantment in her voice, which he couldn’t understand.

Matthew nodded and kept silent. It was then that he watched her thoroughly; she was not a very beautiful woman, but something about her seemed to him extremely attractive. The melancholic expression in her eyes and the delicate features of her face made his heart beat fast. Just then, her voice interrupted his thoughts.

Oh well… I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Just as fast as she had entered, Alice went out of the place leaving him with the whisper of a good night on his lips. For a long time, Matthew stayed in his seat, doing nothing but think of her, inhaling the almost imperceptible smell of her perfume that still floated in the air, and he didn’t go back to reality until the door opened when Susan went in.

Softly, she slapped his shoulder.

Good evening, handsome. What? Are you reading again?

He didn’t answer the question.

Alice got home, he said, looking her in the eyes.

Surprised, Susan put on the table a bunch of folders she held in her hand.

Oh. When did she get here?

Just a little while ago.

What did she say to you? she asked, not giving it too much thought.

Matt shrugged, as an amazed expression showed in his face.

What did she say? Well… nothing, really.

Susan peeked inside the refrigerator and took out a container of cottage cheese. She walked toward the cupboard to grab a plate where she served some. On her forehead, one red curl hung, and she put it back in place.

Nothing? Didn’t she talk to you?

The kid shrugged again.

Not really. Apparently, she was very tired.

Oh.

Susan took a spoon out of a drawer and walked toward the door, plate in one hand.

I’ll be right back, she said and then hurried to the stairs, where she climbed two steps at a time and walked toward her friend’s bedroom, which was the first to the left in a long hall where the other bedrooms were. In front of it, there was a darkroom that Alice had adapted. When she didn’t find her there, she kept on walking toward the end of the hall, to a big room that the three women had decorated in an eccentric way: there were different framed posters of images where copies of various impressionist artists could be admired, and they also had a mural painted with a mediocre copy of Toulouse Lautrec’s Divan Japonais. An old jukebox from the fifties, in addition of a giant TV screen, occupied a wide space in the front wall. They considered that place as their relaxation room, and sometimes they got together to watch a movie or to listen to music.

Susan stopped before going in and took a deep breath. She found Alice sitting beside a small table, smoking a cigarette; her look distant in the void. Sinead O’Connor’s warm and sexy voice filled the place.

What are you doing, Alice?

Savoring the smoke from the cigarette, her friend turned to her.

Nothing. I’m just listening to some music and resting a little.

Both women looked at each other for a second. Susan sat in a chair in front of her. Not leaving her sight, she reached for the pack of cigarettes and, blinking when the smoke got into her eyes, asked nonchalantly, How was your trip?

Alice forced a smile.

So-so… taking pictures of bugs in the middle of the jungle and standing under flooding rains is not what I would call one of my favorite things.

At least you could have an interesting conversation if you were talking to an entomologist, joked Susan. You shouldn’t complain. Many photographers would like to have a job in that important publishing house, with no work schedule, the money they pay you, and the constant travels.

Alice worked as a freelance photographer in a famous magazine whose most important themes were animal life and flora around the world, as well as places of general interest. She smiled weakly and, after a minute of silence, started making invisible drawings on the table with her finger. Looking down and trying to choose the words she thought would be most appropriate, she asked, Susan, who’s that guy?

Frowning, Susan smiled.

He isn’t just any guy. He’s a good boy, a student. And his name is Matthew.

Where did he come from?

Astonished, Susan experienced a feeling of annoyance overwhelming her. There she goes, she told herself.

What do you mean ‘where did he come from?’ she asked a little aggressively, to answer at once, From the ad I published in the paper, Alice! Where else could have he come from?

Realizing Susan was not willing to start an argument, Alice sighed with resignation.

All right, Susan. There’s no need to get upset, she said, not getting any reply. After a long pause in which she kept on playing, this time with an ashtray and under her friend’s upset look, she asked nervously, Do I have any messages?

The question took Susan by surprise. She knew the answer she was about to give Alice would most surely depress her. Putting out her cigarette, she shook her head.

A shadow of disappointment showed in Alice’s eyes. She sadly smiled.

Well, it figures…, she whispered.

At that moment, the notes from the song stopped. Alice grabbed the pack of cigarettes and got up, as she combed her hair with her fingers.

I’m gonna take a bath, then I’ll go to bed. I’m exhausted. Good night, Sus.

Susan’s look followed her.

You too, she said, and when Alice was out the room, Susan asked herself once again why her sweet but stubborn friend was so in love with Tom, but she couldn’t find a satisfactory answer. Determined not to think about that anymore, she got up, and after stretching lazily, she slowly walked toward her bedroom.

Georgia inserted the key in the lock, trying not to make a noise. The sun’s rays began to light the sky, and that made her nervous because she wouldn’t have time to make up for the sleepless night she had just had, and that wasn’t something that pleased her at all for in a few hours she would have to be back at work. Just as she went in, she took off the heels that increased her already high stature to avoid the sound they might make on the wooden floor. Carefully, she closed the door and watched the feeble flames still burning in the hearth. Surprised, she found Alice sitting in the couch looking, very still, at the fire. In a low voice and not hiding her amazement, she asked as she walked toward her, What are you doing here at this time of night?

Alice jumped in her seat and turned around, while she took one hand to her chest.

You gave me quite a scare! Don’t ever do that again!

Georgia, a little bit drunk, sat by her side, glad to see her home.

When did you arrive? she asked, and fondled her short messed up hair.

A few hours ago.

A wide smile drew in her lips, and Georgia kept on talking enthusiastically.

How was your trip? I guess you had a good time.

That’s what you think… Raising one eyebrow, Alice stared at her and stated mischievously, I dare say it was somebody else who had a good time.

Georgia’s loud laugh resounded throughout the living room. Alice put a hand in her friend’s mouth.

Sh! You’ll wake up everybody, she whispered.

Laughing like little girls about to be caught in a prank, they bent toward each other. In a low excited voice, Georgia exclaimed, Don’t say a word, I’m sure you’re going to scold me, but…, her lips almost touched Alice’s ear as she acknowledged, the man I went out with is the best.

Alice smiled sarcastically, leaning in the couch.

Oh really? Okay, tell me about this ‘wonderful’ character of yours.

Georgia crossed her arms over her shoulders and faked a passionate hug.

Oh, Alice! He’s a dream! His name is George Kerrigan, and he’s a famous sculptor. You wouldn’t believe how delicate and sensible he is. He made sure I spent the most incredible night, and he treated me like a princess… He was so tender and fervent when we made love… it was like we were floating on air!

Alice smiled, amused, not giving too much thought to her friend’s effusive comments. That was a routine that Georgia never changed. She went crazy for a man, who was always the best according to her first impression. She went out with him one or two and a half months at the most, and then she would vanish him from her life just the same sudden way she had given her heart out. To do so, Georgia would find a silly excuse and then would turn her feelings to the next guy that caught her attention. The only thing that changed between each passionate and brief romance was the name of the male main character. Alice and Susan hardly understood her friend’s behavior, but they couldn’t but accept it.

I hope this time you used some protection, she indicated, yawning. Did you?

Georgia’s enthusiastic expression faded from her face. She started taking her scarf off while she protested, Yes… sort of.

Invariably, Georgia’s irresponsibility in her love affairs led the three friends to argue.

Incredulous and a little bit upset, Alice got up from her seat and exclaimed, What do you mean ‘sort of’? God! I can’t believe it, Georgia! What exactly do you mean by that?

A mixture of innocence and annoyance showed up in her friend’s expression, and that was the capper that got to Alice’s nerves as well as her answer.

Don’t worry, Alice! I washed with a spermicidal jelly after we did it. I’m sure nothing will happen.

Unaware of the rising tone of her voice, Alice went on. What were you thinking? At this point you still believe in Santa Claus? she asked, shaking her head as if she couldn’t take in that her friend’s naivete bordered on stupidity. "Georgia, you act like a fifteen-year-old, and I’m sorry to