Auld Lang Syne
“Sometimes our husbands accompanied us, but more often it was girls only. This was one of those times. Despite having worked together all week, we always had plenty to talk about, and we enjoyed doing it over cups of the diner’s excellent coffee.
“Unanswered prayers,” Strutter pronounced, sighing with satisfaction as she pushed her plate aside. A few toast crumbs were all that remained of her bacon omelette, which smelled delicious.
Margo smiled and nodded. “I was just thinkin’ the very same thing.” Her eyes had that amused, faraway look she got when she recalled some romantic entanglement or other of her youth. The Georgia-born former debutante had certainly had her share, both south and north of the Mason-Dixon line.
“I’m not following you.” I swallowed the last of my eggwhite sandwich on dry whole wheat toast and eyed the last sausage on her plate lustfully. She pushed the plate toward me, but I waved her off, mindful of Ariel’s snarky comment of the previous evening.
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