The citronella candle sputtered in its terracotta pot as another popcorn dud landed next to the flame.
“Bull’s-eye,” Liza shouted. “Drink up Ladies!”
We drained our wine glasses.
Kernels littered the teak tabletop’s surface. As a group our aim was horrendous, Liza’s the first successful shot in quite awhile. If we kept this up, there wasn’t a chance in Hades that any of us would be going home drunk tonight.
“Fill ‘em up,” Erin said passing the bottle around, everyone except Marnie pouring the cheap chardonnay into glasses. She refilled hers with sparkling water, alcohol a sin she didn’t allow herself.
Mimi, her dog, and the popcorn bowl sat in her lap. The dog’s nose shoved deep into the bowl snuffling up what she could. Marnie fished out a kernel and passed the bowl to Samantha. Holding Mimi close, she carefully aimed for the pot. It jumped off the pot’s edge, landing in the puddle of melted wax.
“Thank you, Lord,” she declared throwing her hands up in victory. She tipped her glass, guzzling it in one smooth gulp. A lady-like burp escaping as she set the glass down. The rest downed another glass of wine. Things were looking up.
Samantha was next. The force of her shot bounced the dry kernel off the table top and into Liza’s glass.
“I’ll get you a fresh one,” Erin laughed. “It’ll be covered in Mimi goobers.”
“Bring another bottle, too,” Samantha said. “This one’s just about done.”
Our men were inside watching the NHL playoffs. Besides being married to five high school friends, a love of hockey was all they had in common. Most girls’ nights they stayed home, but Erin and Ted had a new state-of-the-art home theatre room complete with a loaded beer fridge. Naturally, tonight the boys tagged along.
For us five girls, life had gotten dull. We’d become popcorn duds ourselves. Not one of us had any sizzle left, let alone the energy to pop. Liza and Barry were the only ones busy with small kids. Marnie and Frank had no kids, just that ugly Shih Tzu with its unfortunate orthodontia. The rest had teenagers who didn’t need us anymore. All five of us looked forward to these monthly get togethers. Sometimes we went to the movies, occasionally dinner but usually we met at each other’s homes. Everyone brought wine, except for Marnie, she drank nothing but sparkling water. We all brought junk food except for Liza. Since meeting Barry, she was off sugar. Her vegetable tray sat untouched next to a nearly finished plate of decadent brownies, empty chip bowl and platter of nachos and cheese. Mind you she was in amazing shape. Barry demanded it.
Liza adored him, we did not. He was a pretentious twat. A loaded twat with a gold touch. After college he got into banking and moved steadily up the ranks until he was managing the biggest bank in town. They’d purred up to Erin’s house in a Maserati, his newest toy, while the rest of us poked up in mini-vans. Tonight, however Barry seemed to have lost some of his glitter. It was small things. Liza’s comment about the new car and ladies. His never-ending meetings. Little jabs all evening long. Normally Barry only allowed one glass of wine, tonight she was on her fifth. Her aim was spot on, but her speech had started to slur.
“You know what, ladies?” she asked, pulling the pan of brownies towards her.
We watched as three brownies made their way into her mouth, her expression as she swallowed bordering on orgasmic.
“How I’ve missed you,” she said as she corralled the crumbs into a neat pile. She bent, vacuuming the pan empty with her mouth, wiping her face clean with the back of her hand.
“Barry?” Marnie whispered, quickly glancing over her shoulder. Disobedience was a sin.
“Hah! Barry the saint,” Liza slurred. “Lipstick on your collar’s gonna’ tell on you.”
We didn’t know what to say. Had Barry cheated? They had little kids. How dare he!
She raised her wine glass, sloshing half the contents onto her blouse. “Here’s to Missy Gillespie, home wrecker.”
“His receptionist?” I asked.
Liza sniggered, nodding. “He’s such a cliché.”
“What are you going to do?” Erin asked. We pulled our chairs closer, as everyone’s voice lowered. The men were still downstairs.
“Revenge. Get him where it hurts most.” Liza refilled her glass.
“An eye for an eye? It’s Biblical.” Samantha shrugged. “Why not?”
“I don’t think, the Lord meant literally,” Marnie said. “You can’t sin, too.”
“No, girls,” Liza said, her articulation perfect, eyes sparkling. Thoughts of revenge clearing her system of alcohol. “I’m going to rob his bank. You in?”
