He found the number for a local taxi company and pulled the phone off its charger.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked, leaning further into him, taking a drunken step forward when her lean pulled her off her feet.

“You’re goin’ home.”

“Aww, Joe. I’m ‘ere for you, baby,” she fell forward further, her face aiming at his chest, her wet mouth slid along his skin and he fought the sick the touch of her mouth churned in his gut. “Give you wha’ choo need,” she murmured.

His stomach curled and he wrapped his fingers around her arm again, pulling her away, setting her at arm’s length. She leaned heavily against the counter and he took another step away, out of shot.

She tipped her head back to look at him, her haggard face sadly confused like she had no idea where she was or how she got there. Then he watched her work at it and finally focus on him.

“Joe,” she whispered.

He heard Bonnie say his name and then, in his head, he heard Violet saying it. Not just when they were fucking, when they were talking or even when she was pissed at him. No matter when Vi said it, it hit him, in his dick, his gut, his chest and it wasn’t in a bad way. He’d thought, until that moment, that it reminded him of Bonnie but looking at his ex-wife, it wasn’t that. Whatever it was, it wasn’t about Bonnie, it was all about Vi.

He stared at Bonnie and saw her hair was long and partially ratted. The natural blonde had been dyed lighter and the dye job was bad, so bad it had a weird tint of green in places. It’d been awhile, though, the roots were showing, lots of them. Her natural color came through but there was gray in it, like she was far older than she was and she was only thirty-eight.

He tried to call up what she used to look like, the girl he’d fallen for but staring down at her, her freakishly thin body; her gaunt face, the purple-blue under her eyes, the yellowish tinge under her skin; the lines around her mouth from smoking too much; and her clothes that were wrinkled, cheap, maybe even secondhand and far from clean, he couldn’t call up the Bonnie who used to be.

All he could see, and in that moment, staring at Bonnie, he could even feel her against his hands, his body, was Vi. Bonnie was short, five foot five. Vi had to be five eight maybe pushing five nine. Bonnie had always been thin but she’d had great tits. Now they were sad and sagging under her worn and faded camisole that showed way too much of her unhealthy skin. Vi, Cal knew from what she told him about when she got pregnant with Kate, was a few years younger than Bonnie but she’d had two kids and still her body was fucking unbelievable, ample ass and tits, tight skin, slightly rounded stomach. Even losing her husband, she hadn’t lost any vibrancy. Vi was a fucking firework compared to the washed out woman he’d married twenty years ago that was standing in his kitchen.

Cal looked at her wondering again, even after years of giving that shit his headspace, after what happened, what she did, he wondered what drew him to her in the first place. What made him ignore all the signs and think he could work his ass off to turn a shit life good for her, for him. As usual, he came up blank.

Violet, right now naked in his bed, had lost her husband and had some dickhead making her life a misery and she was shoveling her walks, calling her daughters “baby”, taking them to the mall and making them pork chops. Her life had turned to shit but she was cushioning her girls from that, she was giving them a nice home in a town where neighbors threw barbeques and her daughters could catch the eye of the local football hero and listen to crap boy bands in their bedrooms like normal kids never touched by tragedy.

She wasn’t drinking, smoking cigarettes and weed, snorting coke, scoring crack and falling to pieces.

This knowledge hitting him, as usual, he wanted to get shot of Bonnie but this time it was because he wanted to get back to Vi.

“Where do you live?” he asked her.

“Wha’?” she asked, back to confused.

“Bonnie, I’m callin’ a taxi to take you home. Where do you live?”

She stared at him, swaying a bit then she said, “Doan wanna go home.”

“You’re goin’ home.”

She blinked then slid along the counter to him, stopping when he took another step back.

“Joe.”

“Where do you live?”

“Baby.”

“Fuck, woman, tell me where you live.”

He watched as her face worked. She was struggling, she knew the finale already. It was the same every fucking time. Why she played out this scene, he had no clue and he detested it. But he knew she’d go for it, even knowing how it would play out. He knew what was coming.

“Bonnie –”

“Twen’y for a blowjob.”

There it was.

Cal closed his eyes.

“Come on, da’lin’,” she whispered and he opened his eyes to see she was sliding along the counter again, her chin low, looking at him from under her lashes, a total fucking farce.

“You need to get home.”

“You can do me up the ass for two hun’red.”

His lip curled and he wondered how many times she said that to how many guys, strangers, anyone who was willing to pay to get off with her. Looking at her he doubted she did good business.

Then he felt it and looked to his left to see Violet standing in the hall, wearing his t-shirt, her dark hair a tumbled mess around her face and shoulders. His tee fell long on her, over her hips but he could see most of her long legs. The whole of her, even in the middle of the night, looked vital, alive and sexy as all hell, polar opposite to the sad case in his kitchen.

But she was leaned against the doorway into the living room, her eyes on Bonnie, her face pale.

She’d heard.

Cal clenched his teeth and looked back at his ex-wife.

“You got a choice, you can let me put you in a taxi, I’ll pay, or I’m takin’ you to Indy and droppin’ you off at the first place I can stop.”

“Got a car, Joe.”

“You aren’t drivin’ in your state.”

“Doan wanna go home.”

“That’s not one of your choices.”

Her body jerked and she looked to her right, belatedly feeling Vi’s presence.

“Hey,” Bonnie called, smiling drunkenly at Violet, “we ‘avin’ a pardee?”

“Can I help, Joe?” Vi asked softly, walking into the living room and Cal looked at her.

It was useless, she was there, she’d heard, he could no longer shield her from this scene but still he tried as he spoke softly back to her. “No, buddy, go back to bed.”

“You wanna drink?” Bonnie asked Vi.

“No, thanks,” Vi replied, not going back to bed, moving into the kitchen, her eyes glued to Bonnie as she moved.

Bonnie jerked a thumb to herself. “I’m Bonnie.”

“Violet,” Vi whispered, her tone uncertain.

Bonnie looked to Cal. “Shiz preddie, Joe.”

Cal wondered what Violet would do but he didn’t have to wonder long.

Though if he’d have guessed he wouldn’t in a million years have guessed she would do what she did.

She walked to his side and shoved into it with her shoulder pushing back his arm then she plastered her front to his side, sliding her hands along his body, one at his stomach, one across his back and she wrapped him tight. He didn’t know what she was saying with her action, whether it was a claiming, telling Bonnie her thoughts on the state of play with Cal, a show of support for Cal or both. At that moment either way worked for him but both was better.

Other than pushing her away, he had no choice but to drape his arm around her shoulders which was what he did.

Bonnie’s upper body swayed back as she took them in.

Then her eyes drifted up to Cal’s and her face was disbelieving when she asked, “She yours?”

Bonnie’s tone was now not only drunken but surprised, her face twisted with hurt and uncertainty. Even after all these years, this was a blow to her. Cal saw to his pissed off amazement that somewhere in that fucked up head of hers, she still laid claim to him, even after what she’d done.

She’d never been to Cal’s when he’d had a woman there. But even Bonnie couldn’t be so far gone as to see all that was Vi in his tee pressed possessively against his side and not make the comparison, not see that this time it wasn’t just going to be a no because she had wasted her life away, and her body, but mostly because of their fucked up history but because she’d obviously been replaced by a far superior model. Even wasted, she couldn’t twist that messed up head of hers into thinking she could talk him into a trip down memory lane, if he paid for it of course. She had to know he’d never want her mouth on him, his dick in her, when he had Violet.

Cal didn’t answer, he was too angry and he wanted this done. Instead, he looked back down to the phonebook to find the number on the ad and he curled Vi closer.

His head came up when Bonnie suddenly declared, “Thiz iz mah house!”

Her eyes were narrowed on Vi and she’d swayed forward.

He knew this drill too, when she got pissed. He’d been living with that a long time, even before what she let what happened happen. He was reminded of the vicious, out-of-control way Bonnie could get pissed every time he looked in the mirror.

Cal gave Violet a squeeze and murmured, “Go back to bed, buddy.”

Before Vi could move, Bonnie lurched forward, shouting, “Mah house!”

Then she lost her footing and dropped gracelessly down to her hands and knees on the kitchen floor.

Violet’s body jolted at his side and she stepped back, swinging Cal’s torso with her in what seemed to be an effort to move him to safety but only his torso went because his feet stayed planted. He’d seen this all before.