Chapter 1
After the funeral and the last visitors had left, Helen Nelson sat with her three daughters and told husband Harry to fetch drinks.
Helen held the hand of her youngest red-eyed and newly widowed Carrie Lamb.
Across from them sat Beth Nichols, happily married to a surgeon, and Debbie Muir, who'd become happily wealthy after being divorced by a marauding older attorney who'd discovered the enormous appeal, in one way in particular, of very fit and agile younger females.
It was rumored Debbie was bedding a new man every week but when asked about that by Beth, she'd laughed dismissively and said she wished.
Debbie, taking a white wine from her father said, "Carrie, will you keep the name Lamb or revert to your maiden name?"
Carrie's answer was to burst into tears. She took the wine from Harry and swallowed it in two gulps.
Harry looked disapprovingly because it was a top wine from his cellar but his wife told him to shut up although he hadn't said anything.
He retaliated by serving Beth her wine and attending to Carrie's empty glass before serving his wife and earning a so-called withering glare.
Harry of course was impervious to that evil look. as most guys usually are who've live in a house dominated by females and survive by becoming... well impervious.
Carrie had left home four months earlier after her wedding. Debs had been gone four years but usually visited two or three times a week. Although Beth had frequently spent nights away with Bruce while waiting for his wife to vacate the house and their marriage to be dissolved, it had been eighteen months since she vacated the family home in preparation to live with Bruce and his parents before accomplishing her much-delayed arrival at the altar.
Helen said, dabbing Carrie's eyes with a handkerchief, "Carrie will plan her life without Alan with our help, when she feels ready for that."
"Yes, and I'll assist because coming out of the other side of a divorce is somewhat similar to what Carrie is experiencing," Debs said. "I have that experience to call on."
Her mother snorted, "I fail to see how seeking comfort in the arms of multiple men is a likely avenue for Carrie."
"Mother, never have I confessed to being involved in groupies."
"You know what I mean Debbie. People are saying you are having two new male callers a week."
"Dad are you going to stand by and allow your wife to besmirch the name of your favorite daughter?"
"I have no favorites with my daughter and I'm sitting here to enjoy my wine, hopefully in peace. All I can say is show me one rumor that has proved to be true."
"Yeah, try showing me a rumor," Debs snapped. "I can tell you Carrie, is show a bit of leg and you'll have guys coming out of the woodwork at you, and not all will be married."
"Debbie!"
"Well mom, obviously you feel I don't fit in here so I'm going."
"Debbie, sit down instantly. Carrie needs our support."
"Okay mom. Dad get me another wine."
"Get it yourself."
Each Sunday for the next four weeks, Beth and Debs visited Carrie at 11:00 for a couple of wines and then stayed for lunch with their parents and grieving 29-year-old sister who appeared to be losing weight as well as her bloom. She seemed to cry at every opportunity, especially at Debbie's' unsympathetic comments.
At that fourth lunch gathering, Helen whispered to Beth and Debbie (Helen rarely called her Debs like the others did) to meet her at the garden center for coffee at 3:00 and said, "It is not right a widow should weep for so long. I've consulted Dr Rice and she said it should stop eventually."
Over the coffee cups, Debs said, "She needs a good poke by a man. That will fix her."
"Leave her mom," Beth hastened to intervene. "You know she's just winding you up."
"Please behave yourself Debbie or leave."
Debbie rose to leave but her stressed mom roared at her to sit down, startling other coffee drinkers.
Mother and daughters agreed this was out of character for Carrie, the really good-looker of the family with more ability and more personality than almost all of them put together.
"There was a time we called her our high-flier but now she's crashed," Beth sniffed, dabbing at her eyes.
"Oh god don't start me off," Helen said, sniffing while Debbie said, "God, what's wrong with you women? You have to learn to toughen up."
"Thanks for your sympathy Debbie," her mom wept and Debbie displaying guilt, raced to hug her.
"Weren't we here to discuss our weeping widow rather than to stew in our own despair?" Beth asked and sighed "Oh God" and joined in the hugging of their mother who by then was heaving with sobs.
Debbie went into the café and returned to their outside table with a bottle of wine and three glasses. In time, two bottles of wine had settled the three of them.
"Perhaps you and dad should take Carrie for a week at a resort."
"Bad idea Beth; she'll spend her time weeping at the honeymooners," Debbie said. "Remember she and Alan went to a resort for their honeymoon."
Their mother sighed, "Instead of being negative about everything we suggest Debbie, come up with a worthwhile suggestion."
"Well, first let's try to analyze why our bright-as-a-button sister, your daughter, is a weeping widow, Debbie said cheerfully, taking up the challenge. "She didn't really like Alan."
Helen and Beth looked horrified and Helen said grimly, "You better justify that comment young lady or risk really being offside with me."
"Oh ho, whoa mother; you and whose army? I've knocked more than a couple guys down in my time. If you must know, Carrie told indicated that when they returned from their honeymoon. She said she'd rushed into marriage only to find Alan was a bit of a bore and rather unspectacular in bed."
Looking bewildered Helen asked how could a young man be unspectacular in bed. They became that way when they grew older.
The sisters exchanged glances with raised eyebrows, wondering if they were learning something about their father.
Beth said, "Mom, it could mean he lacks endurance, or lack variety or lacks the ability to excite his partner."
"Or is prone to premature ejaculation," Debbie said and the three of them smothered their smutty laughter.
"I pushed to find out what really was wrong with Alan, but Carrie buttoned up as if thinking she'd said more than enough already."
"Or was talking to the wrong sister," Beth said smugly.
"Bitch."
"Please behave yourselves girls. So, does that end your contribution Debbie?"
"No, it doesn't and be prepared to be shocked about this."
Helen looked uneasy while Beth learned forward eagerly.
"We know Alan was electrocuted when he was raising the metal extension of a window cleaning brush and touched overhead power lines. We know Carrie was away from home at the time but why, and so it's reasonable to ask what was she doing?"
"She told the investigators she was out window-shopping and that was accepted. But I wonder about that. Carrie out window-shopping is something I'm not aware she's ever done before that fatal day. She's too positive for that. Carrie decides what she wants to buy and goes out and buys it."
"With this on-going grief of hers, I now suspect guilt and I wonder was she out seeing an old boyfriend to reconnect with sexual excitement."
"Mom?" said Beth.
Gulping in air, Helen said, "My mind won't accept that theory."
