TROUBLE KNOCKS
After the past few weeks, I’d grown tired lying in bed, feeling sorry for myself. Sooner or later I had to leave the sanctuary of my bedroom and face the world.
I’d decided to take Jeffery’s advice and join him on a night of painting the town red. Nothing better than a little music and a whole lotta liquor to lift the spirits. I didn’t make a habit of drinking. Sara, my mother, had problems with the stuff. I refused to follow in her footsteps. “But sometimes, a girl’s gotta let loose.”
The relentless worry that I might have a child wandering God-knows-where hurt worse than cutting out my bleeding heart. I reckoned, I’d take Jeffery’s advice and take a break. He wanted to show me the bright lights of New Orleans. I finally caved.
After a long bath, I threw on an oversized
