“I really CAN talk you know,” Andi declared. Startling me. “I just hate the sound of my damned voice.”
I stood in stunned silence. She sounded almost exactly like Harvey Fierstein.
“OK.....” I said. Mostly for something to say. She glared at me.
“SEE???” she held an accusatory finger at me. “THAT'S why I keep my damned mouth shut! That look.... that ….look.... you're giving me.”
“Sorry.” I muttered. “It's just ….so.... I was taken by surprise.”
Andi snorted. “Tell me about it.... story of my damned life.”
“OK.” I said again just for something to say.
She brushed her hand in the air tipsily. “It's a loong story.” she scowled.
“Wanna hear it?” Zoe grinned wickedly. Then she turned to Andi with a pleading look like a dog begging for table scraps.
Andi regarded her for a while. Blinked a few times, then seemed to remember Zoe's request. “....fine.” she sighed. At which point Zoe lit up and beckoned Tina to join us.
I quickly suspected the high-octane margaritas were never intended as a hostess gift. They were Zoe's not-so-secret weapon to loosen Andi up. Dave had pretty much confirmed that. When Zoe beckoned Tina over, he shooed her with a grin and said 'thank God she's finally talking.'
“Hey slowpoke. C'mon....” Andi called out to Tina slapping the sofa cushion next to where she sat, legs folded under her. “I'm NOT telling this twice!” she grinned.
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