While I was trying not to puke my guts out this morning, it occurred to me why this is bugging me so much. I grabbed her elbow and yanked her into the vestibule just off the entryway of the small community center. “I’m going to expose him if it’s the last thing I do,” she said under her breath. I was still half-asleep and hugging my coffee from the local cafe when we approached the town hall building. It seemed she’d had the entire night to stew about it, and she’d dragged me to Monday’s Lickin’ planning meeting with a storm cloud of laser-focused revenge thundering over her head. The following day the tiger came out with claws extended. You never knew which side the coin would land on next. I loved both sides of her, but I also knew how unpredictable she was. The scaredy-cat who crawled into bed with me every Halloween night “just in case” ghosts were real. The timid Southerner who was reluctant to speak up to her own boss when her paycheck was a couple of hundred dollars short. The vulnerable woman who was terrified of ending up alone. Then there was the other side of the coin.
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