A NIGHT OUT AT THE MOVIES - NOT!

"Such a coincidence meeting you two!" Estelle exclaimed, making herself comfortable in the empty seat next to Jean-Paul. "I've been dying to see this movie for a long time."

"Would that it could be arranged…"

"Sorry?" Estelle commented at Sheila's remark.

"I meant, of course, isn't everyone? Even more of a fluke since the film is playing in theatres all across town, and you just happen to pick this one! Will coincidences never cease?" Sheila added sarcastically.

"Go figure!" Estelle laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

"But Estelle – you phoned me twenty minutes ago from this theatre begging me to meet you. Remember?" Rhoda suggested.

"Didn't somebody offer to get popcorn? Estelle asked, attempting to diffuse an increasingly uncomfortable situation. "I like mine with lots of butter."

"Me too. Even though it makes my fingers yucky. I can't stand the feel of grease on my hands!" Rhoda said, staring at her hands and rubbing them together.

"Oh I wouldn't knock grease. It does have a place in the right situation," Estelle said, throwing her head back and laughing, while staring brazenly at Jean-Paul.

"Now that we've settled the popcorn issue. Just a drink for me, Jean-Paul," Sheila offered. "No ice."

There was limited conversation between them while they waited for Jean-Paul's return.

"It got great reviews," Estelle remarked, clearing her throat nervously. "Did you read that, too, Rhoda?"

"I heard that too," Rhoda agreed. "Yup – great review…"

"Full theatre," Estelle continued, glancing around. "Hey - isn't that Al over there?"

"I can't tell. Maybe."

"You forgot your glasses again, didn't you, Rhoda?"

"Duh, I can see a big screen without them," Rhoda answered sarcastically.

"It is Al and that's Moliz with him," Estelle said. "Shoot! He's coming over here. Pretend you don't see him."

"I'm not pretending. I can't," Rhoda answered. "Why? You broke off with him last year."

"Just do it, okay?"

"Hello there, ladies!" a well-built male wearing an Australian outback hat stopped at their aisle. "Haven't seen you since…"

"…a long time," Estelle quickly jumped in. "Time does fly when you're having fun. Still broadcasting the oldies-but-goodies on the radio?"

"That I am, m'dear. Of all people to meet. D'ya still have that Australian whip I gave you? Remember when we…"

"…so, are you alone?" Estelle jumped in quickly.

"I'm here with Moliz. You remember Moliz?"

"We met her before. Who's that seated on her right?" Estelle asked, stretching her neck to get a good look and waving at Moliz.

"Me and Sharky are sharin' her tonight."

"Not surprised. Moliz always did believe in the more, the merrier."

"Hey-hey! We're just friends out for a nice evenin' at the movies," Al winked in response to the remark. "Better get back over there. Don't wanna give Sharky an unfair advantage. Why don't you give me a ring and we can re-live old times? We were always good together."

"Look at that! The movie is gonna start in two minutes! Always an experience seeing you, Al!"

As they watched him make his way back to his seat, Jean-Paul returned, his arms filled with their popcorn and drinks.

"Sorry to take so long but there was a long line up," Jean-Paul said, as Sheila stood up and grabbed a container of popcorn and drink.

"Here – let me help you with that," Estelle offered taking two boxes of popcorn and handing one to Rhoda. "You do have such…manly hands, Jean-Paul. So strong yet so smooth to the touch."

Estelle rubbed her hand across Jean-Paul's palm and he didn't make any move to remove his hand.

Sheila found herself unable to focus on the screen and instead watched Estelle at the corner of her eye. She debated whether or not she should take a chance and make a move to hold Jean-Paul's hand and as she gently reached over, she saw Estelle holding Jean-Paul's right hand.

"Just looking for a napkin," Sheila stammered, taken aback with Estelle's brazen forwardness.

"Here – I have some extras," Rhoda stretched and handed them to Sheila. "A person can't have enough napkins when you eat buttered popcorn."

Anger seethed through Sheila's body and then her eyes welled up with tears.

"Um…you know, Jean Paul – I suddenly have this terrible migraine. Whenever I get one, the best thing to do is to go home and sleep it off," Sheila said while sniffing and wiping her now dripping nose with the back of her hand.

"I know where you're coming from. Of course we understand. Go back to the apartment and nurse your migraine, sweety. We can manage on our own, can't we Jean-Paul?" Estelle said, excitedly.

"I am very sorry for you, that you have a headache," Jean-Paul responded removing his hand from Estelle's, genuine concern in his voice. "Don't forget our breakfast with Moliz. You will be there, yes?"

Estelle had a triumphant look of a conqueror as Jean-Paul waited for a response.

"Count on it. Of course I'll be there – wouldn't miss it for the world! See you back at the apartment, Estelle?"

"I hope you feel better," Rhoda said, stuffing her mouth full of popcorn.

As she walked back to the apartment, she realized that she and Estelle could be sharing more than just a place to live.


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A NIGHT AT THE MOVIES TIMES FOUR

Arriving at the Multiplex, Sheila spotted Jean-Paul standing near the ticket booth, hands buried in his jean pockets. Walking slowly towards him she noted his cool dressing style with a short leather jacket worn collar up and jeans that hugged in the right places.As she approached she saw traces of white powder on the jacket sleeves.

"Bad dandruff problem?" she asked, her voice flirtatious, brushing some of the powder away with her hand.

He greeted her with a broad smile that displayed perfectly white teeth.

"Oh mon Dieu! Pastry flour! That is one of the bad things when one is a baker," he responded, his voice a mix of concern and embarrassment. "You sometimes take the work home with you!"

They both laughed as Sheila helped him brush the flour off his jacket sleeves, noting the firm muscles beneath.

"Don't stop now," Jean-Paul laughed, taking her hand into his.

She felt her face get warm, an indication that she was blushing. His deep blue eyes seemed to penetrate her soul, seemingly amused at his ability to unnerve her. She reacted by quickly removing her hand.

"I make you nervous, yes?" he asked, his voice expressing genuine puzzlement. "It was not what I desired."

"Just want to clean the flour off my hands," Sheila quickly jumped in, rubbing her hands together and blowing on the palms. She felt embarrassed and frantically searched for something to say to defuse the uncomfortable situation.

"Wow – almost time to go in," was the best she could come up with. Glancing down at his hands, she recalled how warm and soft they felt covering hers.

"I bought tickets for us," he said holding them up and then quickly returned his hands into his pockets, "to save time. Is okay with you?"

"You didn't have to. I mean – you didn't have to pay for the two of us… I'll pay half…"

She could see by the surprised expression on his face that this was the wrong thing to say.

"I ask you to accompany me so it is I who should pay. No?" his voice taking on a slight edge. The silence between them that lasted ten seconds but felt like an eternity ended suddenly with the mention of her name.

"Sheila Fraser as I live and breathe. Haven't seen you in must be…"

"…a long time," Sheila added, thankful that someone interrupted the awkwardness. "What in the world are you doing here? I heard you were living in Georgia!"

"I was but we d-i-v-o-r-c-e-d last year and I figured there was probably more a-c-t-i-o-n back here, if you get my drift. Who is this delightful guy standin' by your side?"

"Jean-Paul – this is my friend, Moliz. We went to school together…"

"…a long time ago," her friend Moliz laughed. "Jean-Paul. Isn't that a f-r-e-n-c-h name?"

"That is because I was born in France," he answered. "Have you ever visited France?"

"Honey – the closest I ever got to anything French was when Billy Joe Stuckey stuck his tongue down my throat at the Tuckerville picnic. As if that wasn't bad enough, the j-e-r-k had just finished competing in the garlic eating competition."

"Too much information! Moliz was our school spelling champion for four years running," Sheila added. "Um…we better go in now. The movie is going to start in 5 minutes."

"We really gotta get together, girl. Wanna do lunch tomorrow – and bring along Jean-Pauly here."

"Why don't I call you," Sheila said grabbing Jean-Paul's arm leading him into the theatre.

"I have a wonderful idea. Why don't we all of us meet at my bakery tomorrow for croissants and coffee? There are a few tables and we can get to know each other better," Jean-Paul suggested, handing Moliz a card. "Should we say…ten o'clock?"

"You own a bakery, JP honey? How lucky can you get, Sheila? All that delicious french pastry if you get my drift. I just can't wait to taste those – um – whad'ya call them – cross-ants?"

"And I shall make many varieties. Good bye sweet lady."

"Oh you charmer! Au reev-are! I learned that in French class along with…"

"Good bye, Moliz."

"I am looking forward to our breakfast tomorrow," Jean-Paul said, lifting her hand and gently kissing it.

"I think I've died and gone to heaven!" Moliz responded before disappearing into the crowd again.

"She is a funny person, your friend, Moliz! I like funny people!"

"She's…just…the best," Sheila said. This evening was definitely not going as she had hoped.

There wasn't much conversation between them as they waited for the movie to start.

"I will go get us some popcorn" Jean-Paul said, standing up.

She felt a poke in her shoulder.

"Go figure that I would meet you two here! I mean, what are the chances?"

"Yeah. What are the chances, huh?" Sheila repeated, glaring at Estelle.

"Me and Rhoda here just had to see this movie. Didn't we Rhoda?"

"Yeah… I guess so," Estelle's friend Rhoda said, a puzzled look on her face.

"So? What's new? Hey – two empty seats! D'ya mind if we sit next to you guys? Scoot on in Rhoda! Who's buying the popcorn? I like mine with butter."

Sheila had not counted on a date-for-four on their first outing together.


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COFFEE, CROISSANTS AND JEAN-PAUL

The phone was ringing as they entered Estelle's apartment.

"Why does that always happen?" Estelle mumbled rushing to answer. "Hi there, you! Missing me already?" she said, smiling broadly. "You could have called me on my cell if you wanted to talk to me that badly..."

Her smile slowly dissolved as she handed the phone over to Sheila.

"It's for you… Jean-Paul… Probably wants to know how you liked his croissants. That man is so into his bakery."

Estelle hovered nearby, glancing over periodically as Sheila carried on her conversation.

"This is a surprise. We just barely got home and I haven't had the chance to try them yet…"

"See? Told you!" Estelle said softly. "Frenchmen and their croissants! Almost an obsession! Given the choice they'd probably choose pastries over sex, I swear!"

"…haven't planned that far ahead to be honest," Sheila said, aware that Estelle was studying her. "No I haven't seen that yet… Let me think on that. Can I get back to you? A pencil and paper, Estelle?"

"If it's to write down Jean-Paul's phone numbers – I have them both!" Estelle responded, a definite edge to her voice. "I always keep the numbers of my favorite people handy."

"Um – bonjour!" she commented as the conversation ended.

"Well? What did he want? C'mon - share!" Estelle asked, as she set the table. "Wait 'til you taste his croissants. Perfection. Did I mention to you that me and Jean-Paul know each other for two years now but it feels like we've known each other much longer than that. We're close. I mean, we were never really officially seeing each other but we dated a few of times."

Sheila got the distinct impression that Estelle was trying to tell her hands-off in her own inimitable fashion.

"Coffee or tea?" she went on. "Personally, I think that drinking anything but coffee with croissants is blasphemous. I mean – croissants are so - you know - French," Estelle said, barely taking a breath between sentences. "So? What did he want?"

"Just like you said, he wanted to know how we liked the croissants," Sheila said, choosing her words carefully.

"And? Just that?"

"So…he asked if I had seen this movie – I forget the name now," Sheila commented, helping Estelle finish setting the table.

"Oh…really. That's all?" Estelle went on.

"And…he asked me if I wanted to go see it with him…" Sheila spluttered.

"Well of course he does! Jean-Paul is like…so polite! He knows that you're my house guest from out of town and he wants to make you feel at home in a new city!"

At that point Sheila wasn't sure whether Estelle was warning her that she was her guest and as such, at her mercy, or assessing the situation and offering her personal take on it.

"Of course you're right," Sheila assured Estelle. "He's just being friendly."

"Naturally. I mean, why else would he do it?" Estelle asked, the smile returning on her lips. "It's his way. Part of that French charm. Okay – instant or freshly brewed?"

"Would it…be alright if…if I had tea?"

"Don't tell me you're a tea drinker," Estelle gasped, "but don't worry – we'll make this our little secret. Not that there's anything wrong with tea. I mean, I drink it when I'm malade... Malade means sick. Jean-Paul taught me that. Oh that man is so romantic!"

"So then you wouldn't mind if we go to the movie together?" Sheila asked, gauging the expression on Estelle's face. "We won't be late."

"Why would I mind? We're all friends here, right? Anyway, I've got lots of stuff to do and then there's the planning for that welcome party for you! I've got lots of really great available guys for you to meet."

Again Sheila felt that her friend was setting down territorial rules and Jean-Paul was off limits. For her part she was merely going to the movies with a friend. No more, no less. Then, what was the fluttery feeling in her stomach every time she remembered Jean-Paul's face studying hers from across the counter?

"Here's an extra key," Estelle said, handing it over to her, "but call before you come home very late. You never know who could be here."

There was very little conversation between them throughout brunch other than the occasional "pass the cream" or "more tea?" Sheila wondered if Estelle's hospitality could come to an abrupt end sooner than later.


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A SWEET MEETING AT THE BAKERY

"Don't you just love croissants?" Estelle asked, aware that there was a definite attraction between her friend and Jean-Paul. "I mean - everyone loves croissants. I know I do!"

"You have beautiful eyes," Sheila said, staring at the stranger accross the counter, her voice barely audible. "I've never seen such a deep shade of aqua...like the water in the Bahamas."

A loud masculine laugh broke their silence as Jean-Paul threw his head back, obviously enjoying the moment.

"Oh mon Dieu! You are so amusant!" he commented, reaching over the counter to touch the top of Sheila's hand. "I have never visited this place you speak, but you, ma cherie, have the soul of a poet!"

Unprepared for his compliment, Sheila felt her cheeks get warm and she licked her lips nervously.

"I mean to say... That is...the water in the Bahamas is so beautiful - and blue..."

"Why don't you quit while you're ahead?" Estelle said, through clenched teeth and a forced smile on her lips. "My friend here isn't used to compliments from men, are you sweety? You know french men - always with the compliments, right Jean-Paul? Don't I know it!"

Aware that her friend was upset, Sheila pulled her hand away from his and removed it from the counter.

"So many delicious things to choose from. I love chocolate but those eclaires look so tempting. Help me, Estelle!"

"You seem to be doing well on your own," Estelle laughed. "Okay. Give us a half-dozen plain croissants and six of the almond. Oh and a french bread."

"What about you, cherie? Don't you want something good, too?" Jean-Paul asked, a bemused expression on his face. "If you want I can make some suggestions.

"Jean-Paul is very good at suggestions. He's a very creative guy," Estelle offered, a smirk at the corner of her lips.

"Is - how you say - the cat eat your tongue?" Jean-Paul asked, bending over the counter his face directly in front of Sheila's.

"That would be 'cat got your tongue,' Sheila gently corrected, chuckling. "I just can't make up my mind!"

"I shall do it for you!" Jean-Paul said. "That is - if you want. I am the master when it comes to pastries."

"And a lot of other things," Estelle added. "Please help her so we can go home and have breakfast?"

Turning around, Jean-Paul studied the pastry displayed on the counters.

"Well...we could try a bichon au citron or eclair. I think, for you, the eclair. Firm on the outside hiding a soft sweet whipped cream center in the middle. You agree, yes?" Jean-Paul said, sliding an eclair out of the refrigerator and gently moving it to a small box.

"How much do I owe you?" Sheila asked, staring down at the box to hide her embarrassment.

"Will you please tell us how much we owe you, JP, or I'm gonna starve to death!" Estelle said, grabbing the boxes of croissants and pastry box.

"Today, I shall give you a gift, my friend," Jean-Paul said while staring at Sheila. "It will cost you nothing. I am happy."

"Happy today, happy tomorrow - let's go home! I'm ravenous!" Estelle jumped in. "By the way, JP, are you gonna be at Beth Ellen and Brian's cocktail party, tomorrow night?"

"I was invited, oui. I was not going to go but perhaps if you - and your friend here - will be there, I will change my mind. You will be there, yes?" he asked, his eyes always on Sheila.

"I'm not sure. I don't know anyone in town yet," Sheila answered, thinking how few fancy dresses she owned. Sitting at home watching hockey didn't require an extensive wardrobe expense.

"Of course she's going! Aren't you, Sheila? You have to start meeting people socially! Yes, wel'll both be there!" Estelle answered for them both.

"Good! You have made me a happy guy! A bientot," he responded, moving away from them to serve the now long line of customers.

"I can't come to your cocktail party," Sheila told Estelle. "You go without me. I'll spend a quiet night watching TV."

"Not on your life! You left Hal to start again. This is as good a time as any, girl!"

"But...I don't have the right clothes," Sheila protested.

"I'll lend you something from mine. Listen - we're going and that's that! Right now let's go back and eat."

Driving back to Estelle's apartment, Sheila kept thinking about Jean-Paul's deep-blue eyes and Jean-Paul in general. Fate had stepped in and now she was about to embark on her new life. Glancing at Estelle as she raved on about all Jean-Paul's assets, she realized that her new friendship could put their friendship at risk. It was, she decided, a risk worth taking.

Sites O Web Romances You... is a love, romance, and relationship resource offering relationship advice, romantic inspiration, romantic gifts, and much more. http://www.sitesoweb.com/

A NEW CHAPTER

by Eleanor Tylbor

Although she was physically and mentally exhausted, sleep escaped Sheila. The couch was narrow and comfortable enough but it was the images of Hal that kept her in a netherland of sleep and semi-consciousness. In her dream state Hal's features were grotesque and each time he opened his mouth to speak, remnants of rotten food mixed with saliva flowed out of his mouth. Over and over he kept screaming, "Sheila - why did you leave me? I need you Sheila! Go get me a sandwich!"

"Sheila! Sweetie! Hello?" a distant voice interrupted the disturbing images.

Opening her eyes, she saw Estelle leaning over shaking her shoulder. Her pillow was soaked with perspiration.

"Are you okay?" Estelle said, her voice filled with concern. "I got scared when I heard you yelling."

"Nightmares!" Sheila responded, rubbing her eyes and running her fingers through her hair in an attempt to come to full consciousness.

"I'm guessing the cause is Hal and not some bad guacamole? Actually...given his love for food" Estelle laughed. "Why don't you go back to sleep and I'll go get us some fresh croissants at La Baguetterie down the street?"

The last thing that she wanted to do was close her eyes. A trip to the bakery sounded like a better option.

"Sounds good to me. Know what? Give me ten minutes to shower and we'll go together," Sheila suggested.

"Are you sure you're up to it? I mean...you look very tired..."

"Estelle. We've been friends like...forever. Is there a reason why you don't want me to go along with you?"

"Well... No - of course not. I was just thinking about...your health! We don't want you to get sick or anything..." Estelle stammered, turning her head away from Sheila as she spoke.

"Good! Just gimme a few minutes to revive myself and dress! This is the first day of my new life! Ohmygawd! I sound like something out of a romance novel!"

The hot water revived her and she found herself actually singing in the shower. Under normal circumstances and having naturally curly hair, she would have blown it straight. However, today it didn't matter and she didn't want to keep Estelle waiting.

"Nice to hear you singing," Estelle said, grabbing her coat in the hall cupboard. "Some advice from a good friend? Don't give up your day job!"

"Actually, I was thinking of starting a recording career," Sheila responded, laughing. It felt so good to feel happy again.

As they were walking out of the door, the phone rang.

"The voice mail will pick it up," Estelle said matter-of-factly.

"Are you sure? Could be somebody important like your friend from last night! Maybe he wants to pick up where you both left off before I entered the picture."

"He'll wait. Anyway - it'll just make him more anxious to see me when we get together next time. C'mon - they run out of croissants fast."

The phone was still ringing as Estelle locked the door and continued to ring long after they both had left.

It was a short ten-minute walk to The Baguetterie and as they opened the door, the sweet smell of yeast inter-mingled with freshly-baked bread greeted them.

"Hmmmmmm... Almost as good as sex, huh? Estelle said, winking at Sheila. "Notice I said almost."

Sheila was completely caught up studying the display case filled with pastries and long sticks of french bread. It reminded her of her business trip to France a few years back.

"So? What you think?" a deep masculine voice interrupted her flash-back. "Do they look good enough to eat?"

"And then some!" she blurted out.

"We have been told that we make the best pastries in town. You are Estelle's friend, no?" the voice asked.

Looking up, she gasped at the source who was leaning over on the other side of the counter. He was tall and muscular with thick black wavy hair speckled with flour. His smile was warm and welcoming and Sheila felt herself blush uncontrollably.

"I am Jean-Paul and you are?" he asked, genuine inquisitiveness in his tone.

"Sheila. I'm Sheila," she managed to get out.

"He owns the bakery," Estelle interjected. "We're good friends - very good friends."

"Would you like to taste one?" Jean-Paul asked, pointing to an eclaire and grabbing the pastry as he spoke. He handed her one and she found herself devouring the pastry.

"Delicious," Sheila said, finishing the last piece. "I...we didn't have breakfast, yet."

"One should savor all the good things in life," Jean-Paul commented, watching as she licked the cream from her fingers, "and not just yearn for them."

"Don't I know that!" Estelle jumped in. "A dozen croissants, sil vous plait?"

However, Jean-Paul didn't hear the order since his attention was focused on Sheila.

To be continued...


Sites O Web Romances You... is a love, romance, and relationship resource offering relationship advice, romantic inspiration, romantic gifts, and much more. http://www.sitesoweb.com/

NEW BEGINNINGS

By Eleanor Tylbor


Looking around Estelle's apartment it was obvious to Sheila that her sudden arrival had interrupted special plans for the evening. The surface of the floor was covered in various clothes including a maid's uniform replete with black garter belt and black hose.

"You or - him?" Sheila asked, a definite amused quality in the tone of her voice.

"You'll never know," Estelle said, rushing to pick up the clothes. "Then again - maybe you will. So you finally left the idiot! It's about time, that's all I can say. Just think about all the fun ahead."

Somehow, her friend's comments made her feel defensive. Perhaps it was also because it was a reflection on her low self-esteem that she had stayed with someone that obviously everyone saw as a jerk, except her.

"I'm here, aren't I? Doesn't that tell you something?" Sheila responded, feeling that she was being attacked.

"Take it easy, girl! I'm just happy that you finally made a move! Just lemme finish cleaning all this stuff..."

She grabbed the three empty bottles of champagne and a can of whipped cream, shaking it.

"Empty. You know - whipped cream is so...versatile," Estelle laughed shaking the can, "but then you're not ready to hear about those kind of things - yet. But you will!"

"The only thing I want to think about now is peace and quiet and I never want to see or hear another hockey game - ever!"

Sheila realized that she was yelling at the mere mention of the word 'hockey.'

"Sorry - don't know why I reacted like that."

"I do. Years of having to listen and cater to Hal the loser. I'm sure he and his big screen TV will be happy. Wanna bet he probably still hasn't realized that you left him?"

Estelle was probably right. A flash of Hal sitting in his arm chair, the remnants of their special gourmet meal she had prepared dripping down his face and his only reaction was to bemoan how his team had lost the game.

"So...like...what d'ya wanna do? We could grab a latte down at the coffee shop..."

"Would you mind if we stayed in?" Sheila responded, feeling suddenly mentally and physically exhausted. "I'm getting a migraine and I'm absolutely no good when that happens."

"What's the matter with me? Of course you're exhausted after everything you've gone through! I've got a fan-tas-tic idea! I'm gonna make you a welcome cocktail party and introduce you to everyone! Nobody makes a par-tee like me! Gotta plan it right... Make a list of the right people you should meet..."

"Estelle - gimme a break! I mean - that sounds like a fun idea but all I want right now is a bed and sleep if that's okay with you?"

"Oh you mean that beds can be used for sleeping too?" Estelle laughed. "Sorry - force of habit. I meant a party this weekend of course. There's somebody you just hav'ta meet. Consider it your "lookout world - Sheila is here!" statement. Plenty of time to talk - and plan - tomorrow."

Estelle brought in a comforter and pillows.

"Hope you don't mind sleeping on the couch. We've...I've tried it and it's very comfortable. Nighty-night. Don't let anyone bite. Actually... Never mind."

As she laid down on the couch, she felt something sticking in her back and sliding her hand under her hips, she retrieved a plastic object.

"What in the world is this... Oh-my-oh-my," she said to herself. "You sure lead a busy life, Estelle!"

Exhaustion overtook her and her dreams were filled with hockey play-by-plays.


Sites O Web Romances You... is a love, romance, and relationship resource offering relationship advice, romantic inspiration, romantic gifts, and much more. http://www.sitesoweb.com/

THE BIG MOVE IN

by Eleanor Tylbor

Sitting in the taxi, it suddenly occurred to Sheila that she hadn't phoned to let Estelle know that she was on her way. Given her friend's busy dating schedule, this could prove to be problematic. At this point with no where else to go or stay, Sheila would have to take her chances and hope that her presence wouldn't interfere too much with Estelle's plans.

Staring out of the window of the taxi, she wondered how she could have wasted fifteen years of her life with a loser like Hal. The signs were all there and God knows Estelle had reminded her over and over again, but she just couldn't admit that Hal was one big mistake. Tears welled up in her eyes as she remembered the special anniversary meal she had prepared for him and his predictable, negative reaction.

"Enough!" Sheila said, loud enough that the taxi driver turned around.

"Something wrong, lady?" he asked nervously, his eyes looking at her through his rear view mirror.

"Neh! Everything's right for a change," she responded, feeling quite proud of herself and her accomplishment. Estelle would be proud of her decision for sure.

The taxi pulled up in front of Estelle's apartment house and suddenly the enormity of what she had done overwhelmed her. She felt very much alone.

"That'll be ten dollars," the driver said, turning off his meter.

Sheila handed him a twenty dollar bill.

"Keep the change," she told him. "I'm feeling very 'up' today."

"Thanks lady!" the driver smiled. "Have a good one!"

The driver darted out of his cab and grabbed the suitcase out of Sheila's hand.

"One good turn deserves another," he told her, as he followed her into the entrance of the apartment building.

She scanned the list of names and the apartments until she came to "E. Shelton" and pressed the buzzer but there was no answer. Recalling their conversation earlier, she was sure Estelle had told her she was staying in.

"That's what I get for not telling her I'm coming," Sheila said to herself, calling her friend's number on her cell phone. "She's probably having an early night." At the point where she was about to hang up, a groggy voice responded.

"Hel-hel...hello..." the voice at the other end stammered.

"Sorry - I must have the wrong number," Sheila appologized.

"Sheila? Is that you?" her friend asked, a definite sound of surprise intermingled with shock.

"Estelle! Bad timing? Oh geez - I'm really sorry but..."

"Yeah...kind'a. It's midnight! What's wrong? Did that bastard of a husband hit you? How many times did I tell you to leave the loser but..."

"Estelle - I did leave Hal!" Sheila interrupted her friend's rant.

"Good for you," Estelle said. "Just a minute..."

Sheila heard laughter and a man's voice and then whispering.

"I'm back. Sorry 'bout that. There was something I hadda do!"Estelle said, giggling. "Listen - why don't we meet tomorrow at the coffee shop and discuss your next move and then..."

"I can't," Sheila interrupted.

"You're...not thinking of going back to... Please tell me no!"

"I'm calling you downstairs in the entrance of your apartment building. Um - d'ya think that... Like, I could stay with you for a few days until I can get myself together? I mean - I won't be any trouble. You won't even know I'm around or anything..."

The few seconds of silence between them said it all for Sheila.

"Know what - why don't I just find a motel instead."

"Don't be dumb! Of course you can stay here. That's what friends are for, silly!" Estelle jumped in.

"I'm on my way up!" Sheila said.

"Give me a few minutes..." Estelle tried to get in before Sheila closed the top of her cell phone.

Standing outside the door, she heard the faint sound of Estelle's laughter.

Waiting a few minutes she rang the bell.

Estelle, hair dishevelled and makeup smeared, opened the door a slit.

"Just a sec sweetie," she told Sheila closing the door

When the door finally opened properly, a young, handsome male who looked to be in his 20's stood next to Estelle.

"This is Rick," Sheila said.

"And Rick is leaving," he added. "But I'll be back you bad, bad lady!"

Both Estelle and Rick laughed, then kissed.

"Count on it!" Estelle said, her voice full of promise.

"C'mon in," she told Sheila. "So tell me every detail and don't leave anything out."

One thing for sure, life with Estelle would definitely be an eye opener.


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