Life According to Lucy. Cindi Myers
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smiled. That was Gloria for you. Ready to leap to a friend’s defense without a second thought. If Lucy let her, Gloria would be organizing a picket line to patrol the sidewalk in front of her old apartment and writing irate letters to the Houston Chronicle. “I think it had something to do with the fact that my rent checks kept bouncing.”
“Oh.” A long silence while she pictured Gloria taking a slug on her extra-large chai with soy milk. “Listen, if you’re a little short right now, I could loan you—”
“That’s okay. I appreciate it, but I’m doing okay. Really. I just need to keep track of things better.” And maybe cut down on shopping…but no, she’d catch up on everything as soon as she found a real job again.
“So where are you living now? I’d offer you a place, but with Dennis and the girls there’s no room.” Dennis was Gloria’s boyfriend, a struggling comedian who supplemented his income by teaching at a comedy defensive driving school. The idea was, if people had to sit through eight hours of traffic laws and driving techniques, at least make it entertaining. Dennis might never have a future on stage, but his presentation of the top ten ways to avoid a traffic ticket had people rolling in the aisles. The girls were a pair of greyhounds Gloria adopted from a rescue organization. Their names were Sand and Sable, tall elegant dogs that looked almost comical walking alongside short, round Gloria.
“That’s okay. I have a place to live.”
“Where? Don’t tell me you moved in with that musician. I told you he’s no good for you.”
“That musician” was an angst-ridden aspiring country star Lucy had dated for a few weeks. He only knew three chords on the guitar and he sang with a twang that would peel paint, but he looked spectacular in a pair of starched jeans and a cowboy hat, so Lucy had no doubt he’d go far. Gloria had hated him on sight.
Gloria hated all the men Lucy dated. She claimed to be able to read in the tarot cards that these men weren’t good enough for her friend. Maybe she was right, since no man had been good for her yet. “No, I moved back home. Just until I get back on my feet again.”
She was sure Gloria would have lots to say on this subject, none of it good, but her friend surprised her. “That’s a good idea,” she said. “It’s healthy to get back to your roots sometimes. Home is a good place to heal.”
“Gloria, I’m not sick.”
“Maybe not physically, but spiritually—Listen, I have a new book to lend you. It’s called Karmic Healing and the woman who wrote it…”
Lucy sort of tuned out the rest of what Gloria had to say. So sue her. Gloria had a new theory about life every week. She was into crystals, fortune telling, feng shui, aura reading and ancient Native American rituals. Only last week, she’d told Lucy ten different ways to realign her chakras.
As for Lucy, if a theory didn’t involve shopping or chocolate, she wasn’t interested. “I have to go, Gloria. I, uh, I think someone’s at the door.”
“Wait, wait. I have to tell you the reason I called. My friend Jean has a booth at the downtown art fair and I told her I’d stop by. Wanna come?”
“Sure. I’m into art.” Anything was better than washing her father’s shorts. “And afterwards maybe we could swing by the mall….”
Gloria laughed. “Okay. Pick me up in half an hour.”
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