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Randi grumbled. “How long are they going to keep us waiting?” She and Crystal had been talking about the days when they had spent most of their nights boot scooting at Frankie’s. “Surely this place has a happy hour.” Randi laughed to herself and began another story that started as the others had, “Remember that night at the bar…”

      Anna knew little of such a life, but from the way they talked, their times were more sad than happy. Out of habit, Anna began logging in new words as the women talked. She had learned both English and French before she left for boarding school, but it was the words that were not in the dictionary that fascinated her most. Randi’s vocabulary was richly painted in bold strokes.

      “M-maybe you would rather be with your f-family?” Anna suggested when Randi and Crystal finally ran out of stories.

      Randi shook her red hair. “I don’t have none to speak of. My mother ran off with a salesman from the farm and ranch show at the Tri-State Fair the year I was three. My father hasn’t called me since last Christmas.” She laughed to herself. “He’d probably call on my birthday, if he could remember it. I’m sure he misses kicking the shit out of me every time he gets drunk. The bastard was meaner than the devil’s brother and so dumb I’m surprised his sperm knew how to swim. With a father like him, you got nothin’ to do but pray you’re adopted.”

      “I’m pretty much the same,” Crystal added. “My stepdad booted me out when I was sixteen and told me not to ever bother knocking on their door again. Mom had to sneak me out a bag of my clothes after dark. She gave me forty bucks and wished me well in this life before telling me not to bother calling to ask for money or anything.”

      Crystal rubbed her hand along her workout suit, smoothing away memories with the wrinkles. “I only have my Shelby. Sometimes, when he’s busy doing something, he’ll give me forty dollars and tell me to get lost, but before I can leave the room he always laughs and says I’d better not be gone long.” Tears tumbled down a face long free of makeup. “His two grown children hate me, though. If he’s dead, I’ll be lucky to get my clothes out of the house, even in paper bags, before they bar me from the property. Shelby’s all I have. All I’ve ever had.”

      “You’re not in Shelby’s will?” Randi pulled the tab on her diet drink.

      “I mentioned it once, and Shelby said his son told him that’s the reason I married him, to get all his money. I guess Shelby wanted to prove them wrong, ’cause he never changed the will and he kept all of Howard Drilling out of community property. I never asked him about it again.”

      “You poor thing.” Randi draped her long arm around Crystal’s shoulder and squeezed. The gesture offered more discomfort than sympathy, but neither woman noticed. “I always figured when you hooked up with him, it was your lucky day.”

      “I do love him,” Crystal cried. “No one understands, but I do. I’d love him if he didn’t have the money or the big house. I can’t think about what it would be like without Shelby.”

      Helena lowered herself into the chair next to Anna, directly across from Crystal. “We know you love him.” The older woman patted Crystal’s arm. “J.D. told me many a time that you must love Shelby to put up with his drinking and pranks.”

      Anna thought Crystal suddenly looked far younger than her years as the tears ran down her face. She and Randi had to be close to thirty, but Anna felt a lifetime older. They might have lines forming around their eyes, but Anna felt like she had them on her heart. Maybe people who never got involved in life aged faster on the inside. Anna felt sorry for Crystal, the kind of blind love she had for Shelby seemed far sadder than the cold, routine love she had for Davis.

      “Shelby isn’t so bad.” Crystal sniffed. “Oh, he gets crazy and makes me do things that embarrass me something terrible in front of his drinking buddies. But then he says he’s sorry and can’t live without me. He’s always buying me stuff after he hurts my feelings.”

      “Jewelry?” Randi leaned closer, looking genuinely interested in her friend’s whining. The lines on Randi’s face reflected years of answering to last call.

      “Sure. Lots,” Crystal said proudly. “But it’s all locked up at the office. Trent won’t get it for me unless his daddy tells him to.” Crystal blew her nose. “I don’t care about the money or the jewelry. I just want Shelby.” She sniffed loudly once more. “I don’t want to be out on the streets again. I want to be close to him and he feels the same. He says his heart doesn’t start each morning until he looks at me.”

      Anna watched as Helena pulled the crumbling group back under control. “What about you, Meredith? Is there family you’d rather be with?”

      The schoolteacher raised her head. She had not said anything in half an hour. The size-too-small sweater she wore was hopelessly twisted, once more making the letters tumble together. “No,” she answered. “My mom moved to Arizona to live with her sister when she retired. I have no siblings, or kids of my own. I guess I always figured Kevin is enough of a kid to keep me busy. Since I can’t go back to my classroom, this is as good a place as any to wait.” She lowered her head, returning to the thread she had been twisting off her sweater.

      “Well, I have enough kids for us all.” Helena smiled. “I had two girls by my first husband. Twins, though they look nothing alike. My second husband had four children I helped raise, but none of them live close any longer. I was fifty when I married J.D. but if it had been possible, I’d have had his child.”

      “You’re kidding.” Randi gulped her drink. “You’d be on Social Security before the kid got out of high school.”

      Helena laughed. “It’s crazy, but I wish I could’ve done that for him. He’s my third husband, and the only man I ever really loved. If he’s dead, he’ll also be my last. God only made one man like J. D. Whitworth.”

      “I—I have tried,” Anna said slowly, trying not to stutter. “T-to have children, I mean. But there have been no babies.”

      “Not me.” Crystal shook her head. “First, a kid would ruin thousands of dollars of surgery. Second, I might have a brat like Shelby’s others. I can’t see going through all that to bring someone like Trent Howard into the world.”

      “That kind of thing is not for me,” Randi’s low voice was added to the group. “I don’t mind running the plays, but I sure don’t want to make a touchdown. Western clothes are hard to find in maternity sizes.”

      Suddenly the talk turned to life, and living life, and making choices all women have to make. Their conversation became real. No need for social barriers or polite lies. Somehow, the accident, on the rig miles away, made them all the same. All equal. All sisters. The fear they shared brought them together, making each stronger because of their bond.

      They talked of the joys in their lives and the changes they wished they had made. Helena, as the oldest, perhaps felt she could be the most honest and her honesty cleared the table of all pretenses. She told of marrying young the first time and losing him in Vietnam, a month after the twins were born.

      For a while she had been a single mother trying to start a business and rock two babies at night. After five hard years, she’d married a man ten years her senior for security.

      They’d found babysitters and housekeepers to manage the children and he’d taught her how to build her small dress shop into Helena’s Choice.

      When he’d died years later all she could say about him was that he had been a good accountant.

      Randi talked of deeds done and regretted, Meredith talked of thoughts she harbored, and somewhere in the confessions the cowgirl and the schoolteacher were the same. The difference lay only in degrees.

      Anna mostly listened and smiled to herself. In the strange room so far from Italy, she suddenly felt very much at home. She even told the others of her art, something Davis would never approve of, and, to her surprise, the women were interested.

      The room finally grew silent, except for the low rumble of the vending machines.

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