They call it deveining, but it's more like disemboweling. Some sort ofnesting instinct coming to the surface?I lay there on the couch, looking at the toes of my pumps shining in thesunlight from the window and thinking about various things, until Elliecalled that dinner was almost ready, and asked me to get the wine. WhenI went into the kitchen, I saw the table set with candles. I poureddrinks for both of us. Ellie sat me down at the table. She dished up forboth of us, lit the candles and turned out the lights. Then she sat downand we began to eat.We talked about her life. Work was frustrating her. As I suspected, hercareer was blocked. I asked about her last boyfriend. She called himcolorless. I asked if she'd got him to wear high heels. "Yeah, he boughta pair of black sandals, but he didn't really appreciate them. Hewouldn't paint his does. Your toes are painted, aren't they?" I told herthey were, and moved one foot under the table and began to rub itagainst her calf. I sensed that. There were bits missing and they weren’t really in any proper order so it took me a while to follow through and figure out what I could about what was going on. My memories ended at the point where I collapsed in the living room – oh, plus the bit where I vomited.They didn’t explain why I was lying on the floor of my bedroom, securely tied between my sister and my best and only friend. But they did explain why I collapsed in the first place. It was all there; my father’s betrayal, my mother’s indifference, my brother’s isolation. The tears came gushing back.I didn’t realize it immediately but apparently my sobbing achieved something my puppet playing had failed to do. I woke up my sister and my friend.I slowly became aware of them holding me and stroking me and whispering soothing but ridiculous comments into my ears. I use the word ridiculous because they were saying things like “everything’s going to be okay” when that was so obviously the opposite of what everything was going to.
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