I loved this about her, and it was likely one of the reasons I trusted her so quickly and easily. Rather than responding to something sensational with a knee-jerk reaction, she was always taking a step back to consider the facts first.
“No one wants to talk about this.” Ashley covered her face.
“I kinda want to talk about it.” Elizabeth shrugged, not trying to hide her devilish smirk, and her devilish smirk drew a smile from me.
I often wished I could be more like Elizabeth. Not only was she book-smart—she was an emergency room physician—but she was also unfailingly forthright and a consistent source of positivity and encouragement. I loved how generous she was with praise, always looking for ways to build others up.
She and Sandra were equally thoughtful in this way, and I may have had a little bit of hero-worship for them both.
“Oh? Really?” Nico sat up straighter.
“For man on woman, however, anatomically speaking, there’s no reason it should feel good.” Janie shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “So why do women do it?”
“It's been proven that women can orgasm without any physical contact at all. All that’s needed is the right kind of mental stimulation.” Elizabeth turned her knitting, lifting a suggestive eyebrow at her husband.
I averted my gaze, a tinge of embarrassed heat making my neck warm. This wasn’t because Nico and Elizabeth were giving each other the sexy eyes—which they were, and did often—but because, even with three lemon drops lowering my inhibitions, her words had hit too close to home. I felt like I had a scarlet ‘O’ on my chest with a thick black circle around it and a line through it.
Luckily, no one was looking at me, and Marie—who’d been very quiet up to now—made a show of waving her index finger between Nico and Elizabeth, “Hey, hey, hey. Get a room.”
Marie was a journalist and probably the best person I knew. I had a lot of moments when I’d ask myself, What would Marie do? and then I’d do that.
If any of us were in trouble or needed help, she was the first to volunteer. She babysat for Fiona and Greg all the time, and she’d dropped everything last spring to help them deal with an emergency in Africa. She also helped Elizabeth and Nico whenever their niece—who had cystic fibrosis—came to town and they needed an extra hand. She’d been the one to visit Janie and Quinn in the hospital when Janie had initially been placed on bed rest.
In addition to her incredible kindness, she was also funny, and smart, and freaking gorgeous. Basically, she was everyone’s favorite because she was impossible not to love.
Embarrassingly, when I first met her, her unfailing generosity had confused me, made me suspicious of her intentions. I didn’t like her, she felt too good to be true, and I was slow to trust her. I couldn’t fathom that someone like her existed, someone so incredibly good. Using the Disney analogy again, she was like a fairy godmother.
Over the years, her abiding goodness had forced me to change my mind, and now I was just as much in love with her as everyone else was.
“So, most of y’all’s orgasms is in the head.” Roscoe turned to Ashley and nudged her with his elbow. “Get it? Get it? In the head.”
Ashley glared at her brother.
I swallowed a rush of bitterness at Roscoe’s joke and decided to switch to water for the rest of the night.
“Moving on.” Fiona didn’t roll her eyes, but her tone spoke volumes.
“So some women like it because they think it’s hot, therefore it is hot.” Sandra took a sip of her drink, smacking her lips.
“On the other hand, anything that stretches out that hole can lead to an increase in sharts.” Marie lifted her eyebrows at Sandra.
“Really, Marie? We’ve reached this level?” Ashley was making a disgusted face. “I grew up with six hillbilly brothers. You think I want to spend this precious time with my lady friends talking about sharts? I can do that here, anytime. In fact, I think it was the hot topic over dinner last night.”
Marie giggled, not looking repentant.
“I don’t know if that’s true.” Janie shook her head. “Increase in anal sex hasn’t been shown to be a factor in loss of sphincter control. Not if it’s done right.”
“Done right?” I asked, my voice cracking before I could catch the question.
“I’m so afraid.” Ashley covered her ears.
“Stop being a prude.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes at Ashley.
“Just because I don’t wish to discuss putting junk in my poop-shoot doesn’t mean I’m a prude,” Ashley volleyed back.
Sandra ignored them, answering my question. “Lots and lots of lube.”