Shoe Fetish 1 E-Book

Sharon Bennett

• Herausgeber: Sharon Bennett
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Shoe fetish is a casually written novella about three teenage girls, in south Texas, as they stumble from puberty to adulthood, trying to come to terms with their true feelings and desires. They acquired their knowledge of relationships through failed, abusive, and socially unacceptable affairs. The young women equate some of these relationships with styles of shoes. In the odyssey of the relationship maze; torment, strength, insanity, love, and even death were found. The girl’s relationship with each other suffered years after college. They rekindled their friendship at a twenty-year high-school reunion. However, no one would have guessed the turn this road would quickly take. This story is told through the eyes of its central character, Carmen Robertson. A regular southern teen. Some say Texans have a language all their own. These three Professional women endured some of life’s greatest hardships during the spring of their lives.

Leseprobe

SHOE FETISH 1:

A Woman’s Love for Her Shoes and Her Men

SHARON BENNETT and

BEATRICE MOORE

COPYRIGHT @ 2002, Revision 2016

SHARON BENNETT

BEATRICE MOORE

EDITED BY: John DeSimone and Beatrice Moore

COVER ART BY: Sharon Bennett, & iStock Photos

Thank you God for allowing us to find & live our passions & purpose.

To all of our family and friends whom we hold dear. Thanks for all the love and support!

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

For entertainment purposes and personal suave, you will need to know how to compare a shoe to a man. Like shoes, men exude many styles and personalities; and like shoes they do not all fit! Shoes also have no brains nor do most men, or so little they could fit it in the heel of a basic pump. I can only tell this story from my own experience that is from the females’ window. However, these experiences are not unique and in fact plague both genders. Nothing in this world is perfect. No matter how hard one tries, there will be mistakes. Do not be so critical, accept it and move on. Enjoy this moment in life.

From what some of my male friends tell me, and I agree, there are pea brained inconsiderate women as well. Touché. Regardless of their imperfections, I am proud to know the male gender we call our brothers. In order to obscure the guilty, their names were changed.

SHOE: The basic dictionary will define “shoe” as an outer covering for the foot, usually made of leather, fabric, or plastic, with a stiff sole and usually not reaching above the ankle. Boots reach above the ankle.

MAN: An adult male human being with a particular occupation, responsibility, and background. Well, hopefully an occupation and a sense of responsibility. Without these main qualities, you are not a man. You are only a male.

INTRODUCTION

Shoe fetish is a casually written novella about three teenage girls, in south Texas, as they stumble from puberty to adulthood, trying to come to terms with their true feelings and desires. They acquired their knowledge of relationships through failed, abusive, and socially unacceptable affairs. The young women equate some of these relationships with styles of shoes. In the odyssey of the relationship maze; torment, strength, insanity, love, and even death were found. The girl’s relationship with each other suffered years after college. They rekindled their friendship at a twenty-year high-school reunion. However, no one would have guessed the turn this road would quickly take.

This story is told through the eyes of its central character, Carmen Robertson. A regular southern teen. Some say Texans have a language all their own. These three Professional women endured some of life’s greatest hardships during the spring of their lives.

CHAPTER 1

While flying high in the sky, I gazed out the window. The city was so beautiful at night. The lights glistened in their picturesquely geometrical patterns. They looked like toy houses and cars. The human race has advanced so far with its modern skyscrapers and homes. Men think they can do anything. God has been good to us; He is so mighty. What has taken years for man to build, can be destroyed in one cataclysmic event, like a tornado. I think about this type of thing frequently, because I could have been dead from a catastrophic event. Texas is part of tornado alley.

When asked, I tell people I had a good life. Even a charmed one. Life for me was not easy, especially when it came to affairs of the heart. God had blessed my life, but it came at a high emotional price. I could be happy one day and sad the next, melancholy, that is me. For as long as I can remember, I have been that way. It started in my teens. That is about the time I started feeling this strange irresistible attraction towards boys. What a coincidence!

It’s June 1995, which marks a special weekend. I am heading home for a twenty-year high-school reunion in San Antonio, Texas. I hope to see a long lost friend. She and I were like sisters and we shared many good and bad times. Bethany Childs and I somehow lost touch a few years after college. She went to Prairie View A&M University, and I, Carmen Robertson, went to Sam Houston State University. It was a new life with new friends and the pressures of class work. It became extremely difficult to keep in touch, especially, when changing residences and phone numbers. Usually, we kept in touch through our parents who have had the same address and phone numbers since the middle seventies.

I am looking forward to this school reunion because I have missed her, my Buddy, my confidant. We have not talked for ten years, and life just has not been the same. I also want to see what everyone has been up to and show off my girlish figure.

I remember exactly how Bethany and I met. We were in the seventh grade. It was in our physical education class. I remember us running track and jumping hurdles, as well as complaining about it. She was such a friendly person with a trusting and positive attitude.

The pilot was announcing our approach to San Antonio. Land of the Spurs and the Alamo. The “Fasten Your Seatbelt” light blinked on and the flight attendant was collecting passengers’ debris from the dinner meal, which was cold as usual. The most you could expect from these meals was gas. Served me right. Next time, I should eat prior to going to the airport.

My sister, Liz, will be picking us up tonight from the airport. I missed her, her sons, and my parents. At least we talked on a regular basis. I bet my mother has one of her wonderful home cooked meals ready. She always makes such a fuss when the kids and I came home to visit. I have been a single mom for ten years and damn good at it, I might add. While working six years with a major insurance firm, I finally completed medical school. A long-awaited triumph in spite of some poor choices. I have also kept up with aerobics and weight lifting. Yes, a nice size eight, with cut arms and abs.

As I leaned over to wake my children, I made sure to fasten their seatbelts. I whispered, “Wow, I love them so much.” What a blessing they have been to me, even if their father turned out to be shit. My divorce was hard. Sometimes, I wondered if I would ever fully recover. In addition, putting myself through school for a second degree was torturous. I would never trade these two kids for anything in the world.

Their father died shortly after our divorce was final. Some sort of accident involving alcohol and drugs. The police investigated the suspicious circumstances surrounding his death. They had a lot of nerve questioning me. The police arrested no one for the murder. The kids’ upbringing fell upon me, and I am glad that I kept up the premiums on their father’s life insurance policy, which would afford them a good college education, as well as a lower mortgage for me on a beautiful two-story brick home in an upscale neighborhood southwest of Atlanta. My parents are an excellent support system.

This reunion trip will also allow them time to visit with past school friends. My son, Jerrick, is 17 years old and a big-eyed, long-lash, dimpled cutie pie. My 15 year-old daughter Sharena is extremely smart, with a tiny frame, and such a beautiful softie. Sure, maybe I am a bit prejudicial when it comes to them. One thing I have never believed in was calling a child cute or beautiful, when they were butt ugly. All children are precious and a gift from God, but not all of them are cute.

Smooth landing. Yeah, that is the kind I like. As soon as the plane stopped at the gate, everyone hopped out of their seats and scrambled for their bags. What was the rush? Did they think the plane was going to take off before they could debark, or that their family would leave them if they did not get off in one minute? Rather than be crushed by all those bodies, some which may not be too fresh, we patiently waited until the plane was almost clear. The children and I anxiously strolled down the ramp to the waiting area and there was my big-eyed sister and her two cute boys. We hugged and kissed, walked arm-in-arm to the baggage claim. Her boys love my son. They think he is cool. They like to wrestle with him; or more like it, thrown around by him. They are ages five and seven now, and quite the chatterboxes. We loaded the car and headed for home.

“Well, Carmen, have you found a man yet?”

“Hell no, and I’m not looking for one either”

“Girl please, you mean to tell me that in two years you haven’t found a man in Atlanta? That is a man Mecca. I know they have some fine honeys there?”

“True, there are some fine men in Atlanta. Black, White, Arabian, Jewish, Latino, and even French o-oh-la-la. Mastering my career as a Dermatologist has kept me busy. Besides, you cannot move too fast. I do not just let any man come around my children. For the most part if the men aren’t gay, they are married, or think they are God’s gift to women and you should be grateful for a date.”

“What? You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Don’t get me wrong, now. I have nothing personal against gay people. It is not a lifestyle for me, and only God can judge, so I leave that up to Him.”

“What about at church?”

“Liz, please. For one, I do not go to church to meet men, and two they are sometimes worse. You know, like an octopus. Please, you aren’t dating either, so let’s drop that subject for now, okay?”

“You’re the boss.”

“My goodness, San Antonio still has some bad ass drivers. They must get their licenses out of Cracker Jack boxes.”

“Right, like they don’t have bad drivers in Atlanta.”

“Girl you said that right. What gets me is how some people try to be highway monitors. If I get a ticket, then the only one who is going to pay for it, is me. It’s a sure sign that you’re going too slow when a lot of people are passing you. So, just move your ass out of the way.”

“I hear that, Carmen.”

We spent the rest of the ride in silence, except for the rap music my kids wanted to listen to, and the chattering of my cute nephews. Just when my butt has had enough of sitting, we pull into my parents’ driveway and it was as if I am a kid coming home from school again. Nothing has changed, from the manicured yard to neat and tidy inside. My parents have good taste, but they do not splurge. My father is a retired judge and my mother still does real estate part time.

They have nice furniture, but it is not a cluttered effect. The ample sized foyer wall is full of plates from the places they have traveled. The aroma of home cooking hits my nose almost as fast as my mom grabs me for a hug.

“How’s my baby doing?”

“I’m fine Momma, but then you just spoke to me last night, so, I guess you know that. How are you and Daddy?”

“Fine Carmen, he’s in there sleep, thinking he’s still awake watching T.V. Go wake him up. By the way, your friend Bethany called. Said she couldn’t remember the street we lived on and she’d been calling all the Robertson’s in the phone book to track us down. Said to tell you she’s coming to town for the reunion.”

“Really Momma? My gosh, I was hoping to catch up with her. I’ll call after I talk to Daddy.”

“Kids, come here to Granny and give me my sugar.”

I quietly approached Daddy, wondering if I should wake him or eat some of that tasty baked chicken I smelled. I am hungry and that plane food does not hold a candle to my Mommas’ cooking. The eating will have to wait. Because, I was raised with manners. My father has a receding hairline that has been working its way back from the forehead to the middle of his head. I love to pick on him about it, by kissing him on his forehead or popping it with my finger. I decided to go with the kiss this time.

“Hi, Daddy. Do you know you’re sleep and clutching the remote?”

“Hey, baby. Naw, I wasn’t sleep. Just resting my eyes. You know?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Just then the kids rushed him yelling, “Papa.” After the preliminaries were over, we washed up for dinner. We all gathered at the table after helping mother prepare the plates. As our tradition, Daddy led the prayer and each person said a bible verse, and then dug into the food. We enjoyed seeing each other and did a little catching up as we ate. Liz suggested that we go shopping since the malls did not close until 9 p.m., and I did want to do some shopping for the reunion. You know I had to have the perfect outfit and the perfect shoes. She agreed to drive me after dinner.

WHEN I WAS YOUNG

Well, when I was a young one

Growing up long, tall, and thin

I would reminisce on

Mommas’ guiding hand.

She walked, talked, and prayed with me

my soul would not be lost,

To her I owe it all, I can never pay the cost.

She is the gleam in my eyes,

and the light in my heart.

To you dear Lord I pray, please,

That we should never part!

Carmen

CHAPTER 2

“Hurry girls. Please stop that horsing around and finish your packing. I would like to get on the road to San Antonio before dark.”

“Bethany, calm down. I’m driving, so, we’ll be there before it’s too late.”

Bethany Childs lived in the suburbs of Dallas, Texas with her husband Chadwick “Chad” Parker, whom she married after a short courtship- defying both conventional wisdom and her better judgement. The marriage turned out to be the best decision she ever made resulting in three beautiful girls- Angela, Michael and Cooper who are ages 12, 6 and 4 respectively. As expected, the two youngest daughters engage in a severe case of sibling rivalry, badgering each other constantly, vying for attention from both Bethany and Chad. You really cannot blame them for seeking Bethany’s attention. Bethany is juggling a demanding career as a wife, mother AND interior design consultant (which for most anyone else any combination of 2 out of the 3 career paths would be enough!) It does not stop there…she also owns an upscale boutique catering to a very exclusive clientele. As a result, she has clients around the world, most of which she met during her modeling days. She often travels to decorate their homes as well as offering them personal shopping experiences direct from the runways of Paris and Milan. Bethany has managed to merge and share her loves of fashion and home design by co-authoring two books on decorating and dressing with taste. As you can see, Bethany is more of a Renaissance girl. She kept her maiden name to maintain some personal identity and a level of freedom. Chad, her husband, is a successful commercial banker. Chad went to high school with us. He was a good basketball player and honor student who many thought would pursue a pro-ball career. He had the talent and the good looks to be anything he put his mind to!They reunited through a mutual friend when Chad needed his posh condominium redecorated. Bethany checked his financial resume before pouring on the charm. Some say it was love, some say love of money. Well, whichever the case may be, it was love nonetheless.

They had an extremely large and lavish wedding. Twelve bridesmaids and groomsmen, many who were either models, professional athletes, or bankers and all were extremely good looking. I was the maid of honor, and the best man was gorgeous. It (you know what it I mean) crossed my mind once, and left as quickly as it entered. Bethany and Chad share a six thousand square foot, two story, European styled home in a gated community. Regardless of Bethany’s reason for marrying Chad, they are great together. Chad is a good man. He truly loves Bethany and they share a wonderful life. She loves him and their three girls reflect that love.

“Girls, girls, please stop bickering and get dressed so we can go.”

“I don’t know what to wear,” whined Cooper.

“Why don’t you girls wear the cute purple jumpers your grandparents sent?”

“We’re not triplets, mom,” sighed Angela.

“No, no. My button. I can’t touch my button, if I wear the jumper,” yelled Cooper.

“Mercy, child. You cannot handle a five-hour road trip without touching your belly button. Trust me; you will not die, if you cannot touch your button. One day it is going to fall off. I do not care what you wear. Just get dressed, so we can get out of here. Angela, help Cooper. Chad, are all the windows locked? Did we stop the newspaper delivery? Did we forward the calls to our cell phone?”

“Bethany, yes all of that has been done. Why you so keyed up? We’ve been back to San Antonio to spend time with the family before?”

“I know that. It hasn’t been the twenty-year high-school reunion before. I’m excited about seeing Carmen. I finally spoke to her mother and she said Carmen is definitely coming.”

“Oh yeah. You guys were really close buddies.”

“Buddies! We were like sisters. Actually, better than sisters. In a family, you can’t pick your siblings and you may not like them very well. We picked each other to share our deepest secrets. That’s something that just doesn’t go away with time. You know what I mean. I love her and I miss her.”

“Yeah, baby. I understand.”

“Great. Besides, you know I have plenty of shopping to do. I’d like to go to the mall tonight before they close.”

Bethany and Chad herded the girls and the dog into the SUV to begin their 4-hour journey from Dallas to San Antonio. As the SUV rounded the circular drive and exited through the gates of their estate, Bethany mused to herself, “Well done, not bad from a little girl from SA.” However, before they could get on Interstate 35 South, the first stop was the kennel. They had to check in J.B. (James Brown), their frisky black cocker spaniel. Bethany’s mom just did not like the idea of a dog in the house and JB was definitely a spoiled pooch who could never survive the elements. Therefore, to keep JB safe and sound from Mrs. Childs and her trusty broom, the kennel was the best bet even if the girls were totally against leaving their 4-legged pal for the weekend. Besides, JB was excited to be at the kennel and with his four-legged playgroup for the long weekend.

The ride to San Antonio was over two hundred-fifty miles. The girls sat in the back listening to music, coloring, and chattering. Bethany and Chad engaged in small talk while she occasionally daydreamed of what the reunion would bring. Suddenly, Michael ranged out.

“She’s touching me. Cooper is touching me.”

“Cooper stop touching your sister.”

“But, I like touching her, Mama.”

“She’s touching me again, Mama. She’s touching me.”

“Michael stop yelling. Cooper, please don’t touch her again. You’re stressing her out. Now stop it.”

Angela rolled her eyes at the bickering of her younger sisters, and continued listening to her music.

The family arrived in the Child’s well-maintained modest neighborhood where the homes averaged 1200 square feet and inhabited by many of the original homeowners from the early 1960’s. Chad turned into the driveway after four and a half hours, and let out a deep sigh of relief. Being the only male in his household, he was happy to arrive so he and Mr. Childs could have some much needed male bonding time. Greeted warmly at the door by Bethany’s parents and settled their luggage in the usual rooms. The girls then begged permission to run down the street to see their fraternal grandparents.

Mr. and Mrs. Childs were showing signs of aging and they had had medical problems through the years. Their small three-bedroom home was neat and well decorated in a mixture of Victorian styled couches with the plastic coverings; and eighteenth century styled dining room furniture with matching china cabinet. Bethany had tried for years to make over the house, but her mother would have nothing to do with what she considered as “that fancy modern style in those books of Bethany’s”- Mrs. Childs liked her “stuff” just the way it was.

“Bethany, I was wondering if you could finally clean out that old closet of yours. Any clothes or shoes that you don’t want, I’ll send to Goodwill. Your father and I want to convert that room to an office with built-in bookcases in the closet.”

“Sure, Mother. I can do that. I know you wanted me to do it for months and I appreciate you not taking it upon yourself to unload my property. That closet holds many memories for me. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

“Oh, by the way Bethany. Your old friend Carmen called.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’ll call her back right after I eat.”

Bethany and Chad washed up, had a bite to eat and then went to check-in with his parents. Chad’s older brother became an engineer and was now a state senator. The family is naturally extremely proud of him, which is evident in the many pictures and awards that cover the walls like wallpaper. Chad is the baby of the family, as is Bethany, and he will always be “Momma’s youngest.” It is funny how you never seem to grow up in your parents’ eyes. You will always be a child, no matter how old you get. It seems every adult in the neighborhood looks at all of the young people as if time stood still.

The family spent time with chitchat over the next hour or so while the girls were in the Parkers’ backyard playing. Bethany checked on them a few times to make sure there was no high drama between Michael and Cooper. Noticing how Bethany was hovering over the girls, Mrs. Parker assured her they would be just fine out back. Chad reminded her that they all played outside like that and lived to see another day. “Yes, you guys came out of this neighborhood and did alright for yourselves. So I am 100% sure that a little cut or scrape from Mother Nature won’t kill those citified grands of mine,” Mr. Parker chuckled. Bethany shook her head and realized she was being a bit overprotective and they were right. They settled in for a nice conversation and some catching up on the latest escapades of Senator Parker. Bethany glanced at the wall clock. She needed to call Carmen. She then bid her in-laws a good evening, hugged and kissed her girls, then kissed Chad firmly and promised him more of where that came from and took her leave.

As Bethany stepped out on the front porch and began her short walk home, she noticed how the sun was still blazing bright at seven-thirty in the evening thanks to the long summer days of south Texas. Adorned in her designer sunglasses, chino pants, navy t-shirt and espadrilles, she pulled her chestnut colored hair back into a ponytail with a scrunchy that she wore around her wrist. “I’ve got to catch up with Carmen,” she said aloud, giddy with anticipation as though twenty years had not passed.

Bethany was always well dressed. Looking at her, you would know she modeled professionally. You know the type. Always dressed to the tee, no matter what. You could ring her doorbell at three a.m. and she would look like you interrupted her lingerie shoot. You would never see her in a store with rollers in her hair, or house shoes on. No, that would be too tacky for her taste. Actually, you would never catch me looking that way either.

She opened the front door of her parents’ house and rang the doorbell as a safety measure. Known to be quick on the draw, if they suspected foul play, Bethany did not want to alarm them. They seemed to be getting more and more forgetful but that was to be expected.

“Hey mom and dad, it’s me. I have to freshen-up. That drive and drama did me in,” Bethany called out as she walked down the short hallway to her room. She dialed the Robertson’s number but got a busy signal. “Hmm, they still haven’t gotten call waiting. I am not surprised. Neither have my parents. Well, that does it. I bet Carmen is at the mall. I will just try my luck at North Park. I had my heart set on going thereanyway to see my friend Noela who is a personal shopper at Saks.” Carmen hung up the phone and began to sort through her garment bag for something to wear. She chose a crisp khaki tailored three quarter sleeved shirt, which buttoned down the front, with matching Capri slacks and brown leather mules. After hopping into their SUV, she adjusted the mirrors, checked her lipstick, and backed out of the drive, headed for the mall.

FRESH MEAT

Thinking, remembering a life does cry

Hoping to render an antique style

Void of indebted agile

Gathered, confronted with the sharp shears

Postured and crouched as it devours the years

Drinking her blood and love with its luscious taste

Why pilfer the life of a sweet miss, why waste

Bellowing your assertions of ill held reverence

From a deep dark place the beguiled head quickly reared

Because I love her, it sneered

Carmen

CHAPTER 3

Liz and I decided to go to the North Park Mall. It is the closest, and it has some nice stores. We have a great time, giggling, chatting, and talking about the strange looking people after they have walked by. We found several outfits and tried them on, but nothing that shouted, “Damn, she’s fine.” We saw absolutely, no good-looking men as we strolled around. The lack of datable men was one reason I left San Antonio. In addition, the party scene was about dead.

It’s the same three clubs that open and close. So small that they look like roach motels for people. When you go to a club, you are on an eternal “pimp alert” with all the played out players still sporting aqua suede on leather stacked heels with blue slacks and coordinating shirts. Moreover, a player would not be a player without his brim. Oh yeah, that’s definitely vintage seventy’s Super Fly, Who loves ya baby, Dynamite, Get down jive, Dance Fever, Moving on up, Mackin, all come back to haunt in a big bad way! Damn, I see why some women just give up and become lesbians or find maintenance men.

It is not that I did not have any dates, I did. However, eventually something always went wrong. Either the men did not want to settle down, stating, he had liked to keep his options open; or they wanted to settle down but the sex was terrible; or my kids just did not like them. That was important to me that my children like him. If a man could not accept my children and take us all out from time to time, then he had no place in my life.

All right now, this is the dress. Right here in Dillard’s formal wear section. A short bright red spandex job, that flares out a bit at the bottom, with double straps that extend from the bodice, around my neck, to the back. Yeah, time to try it on.

“Liz, where’s the dressing room?”

“Over here Carmen. I’m going, too. Girl, you are going to knock them dead in that dress and you have the body and long legs for it, too.”

“Oh, excuse me. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I wasn’t paying attention. Aaaaaahh, Oh my Lord, Bethany Childs! I don’t believe it. Where have you been?”

“Carmen, it’s a long story. But girl, I’ve missed you, too. I only came hoping I would run into you.”

“Me too. Where are you staying?”

“At my parents’ home. They still have my room the way I left it, clothes and all. You know I still have the letters you wrote me after you moved away during junior year in 1973.”

“Really. Then I must confess. I still have the letters and cards you sent me.”

“I see you’ve found a red dress? Go ahead, try it on.”

“I will, but are you leaving?”

“Actually, I was heading to Saks, but no. I am staying here and not leaving until you try on that dress.”

My God, Bethany looks the same. A beautiful young light skinned woman with big eyes and a big smile. She has always been taller. About five foot nine inches, not skinny, though. A well portioned young woman with big legs and breasts. I used to be jealous of her voluptuous figure, wishing mine were like that. I was a skinny girl, not malnourished, but thin. I hated the way my stockings bunched up around my ankles. If they stayed up at all, then I would have runs in them. I was a tomboy until my parents made me go to charm school during the summer before the seventh grade.

Wow, what a knock out. Yeah, this is the dress for me. After two babies, I finally get hips. It fits perfectly and shows every curve, with the length-stopping mid-thigh.

“Here I come ladies.”

“Dang Carmen. Girl that is the dress for you,” Liz said.

“Definitely, on the one. No one would guess you’re a doctor. That dress makes you look like one of the beautiful people. Now we must go shopping for some shoes to go with it. Why don’t you pick me up tomorrow morning around eleven and we will go to Saks? I have a friend who is a personal shopper and she knows where to find EVERYTHING!”

“Great Bethany, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll call when I’m on the way.”

“Perfect Carmen, I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow. Well, actually I’ll see you later tonight. Aren’t you going to the get acquainted party tonight?”

“Oh, I completely forgot about that! I was so excited to see you. Yes, yes. Of course I am. I’ll see you there.”

“Bye.”

The mall was about to close. I grabbed a pair of sheer hose and some costume jewelry to go with my outfit. Moreover, the important part would be the shoes to complete the outfit. I was not looking for a man but I felt that this was going to be a special weekend for more reasons than one.

Being single affords you more flexibility. You can go around the house looking any way you want to. You handle your own finances and make all your own decisions. You depend on no one for love and emotional stability other than your family. In addition, if I wanted to go to bed without a shower or sex, than I could do that too. The single life had positive points. As Cameo would sing, “I’m living the single life.” I owe no one any explanations for who I am and what I do. I did not actually graduate from Sam Houston High School because my family relocated during my junior year to St. Louis, Mo. In Missouri, there were only five Blacks in my graduating class and my brother and myself comprised two of them. However, the people at Sam Houston still claim me as their own and I like that.

Bethany and I did in fact see each other at the reunion get acquainted party. I remembered her husband from school. After greeting the other classmates, we sat with our heads together the rest of the evening trying to catch up. The party finally ended and we promised to see each other tomorrow morning.

We had no vast field of experience.

Our spirits connected, somehow, and