Chapter one
The Fateful Cruise
Sherry Wilson put her fork down in exasperation. "Carla. What's the point of having lunch together if all you're going to do is eat? Have you heard a word I've said?"
Carla Baxter looked up from her lunch. The smile on her face was forced. "Yes, Sherry, I have been listening. I am just not interested. You know I'm not into the bar scene."
Stabbing one of the ravioli on her plate, Sherry waved it like a baton as she spoke. "Good grief, Carla. All you do every night is sit at home, watch TV and pretend you're happy. Get out there, enjoy life!" The ravioli made it into her mouth and she exclaimed around her chewing, "What you need is a really good fucking!"
Carla's fork rattled loudly in her salad bowl when she dropped it. Her look fired daggers at her friend, not because the suggestion was insulting, but because Sherry knew better. "I've told you before, Sherry Marie Wilson, I need more from a guy than a hard on and the ability to use it. I need to be connected with him. I want to know who he is and for him to have taken the time to know who I am. I want to be able to talk with him, really talk, about things that matter."
"Oh my God., Carla, you're describing a husband, not a lover. A lover wants your body, not your brain. It's nice to have your body wanted. Trust me, I know. If something comes after that, then okay. But I, for one, like the feel of a man deep inside me, making me squirm and gasp. I don't need a rocket scientist for that."
Carla knew everything her friend said was true. Sherry had been in a long succession of relationships, though some of them stretched the meaning of the word. One, Brad, had been for two years and might have gone as far as marriage if he had not been transferred to Brisbane. Many had been true one night stands that Sherry could not even put a name to. Her friend truly loved the purely physical side of men.
"Sherry. I'm not like you. I need a relationship first. The idea of just picking up a guy and going to bed with him holds no appeal for me. You, Cindy and Gavin need to stop trying to remake me in your own images." Carla's trio of friends had spent most of the 15 years or more they had known her trying to fix her up with boyfriends and sex partners. Add to them, her mother's constant harping about why she had not found a good man and gotten married, and you had one frustrated, and apparently tolerant with her friends, woman.
"How would you know? You've never done it. Carla, by your own admission, you were celibate for five years after losing your virginity at 16. After that, you've had four boyfriends, all of whom you made wait for over a year before you went to bed with them. All of them eventually dumped you. You've never had a one night stand. You can't possibly know how much fun they are or aren't. You need to try."
"I don't want to, Sherry. Anyway, no one's going to pick me up in a bar. I'm just not pretty."
Now Sherry's fork hit the plate, but not by being dropped. "Don't you dare start on that again. You are
not
ugly."
"I didn't say I was ugly, I said I wasn't pretty. I mean, have you looked at me? I have small tits. My body goes straight from my shoulders to my waist and then bulges. It's not fat, but it is thick, thicker than men like. My face is forgettable, not ugly, but no one remembers it. I've seen what men want, you just have to look at their magazines, like Maxim and Stuff."
Carla did not have a bad self image, just an honest one. The way she described her body was simply accurate. There are no curves to speak of until she reached her hips, where every ounce of excess body weight settled, and her breasts are small enough that a bra was completely optional. If she were interested in passing for a man, strapping down would not be overly painful. There was nothing wrong with her face, it simply lacked any distinguishing features that someone would remember later. She would be a police nightmare if she were a criminal.
She had dieted in the past. She quickly realized that the only way she was going to keep that bulge off was to starve herself indefinitely. She did not want that. Now she kept her five foot, seven inch body at a comfortable 140 pounds. While not what many would consider ideal, it was within healthy tolerances and, more importantly, it's the size her body seemed to want to be at.
Sherry shook her head. "You know, Carla. There are guys out there that think you look just fine. Not everyone wants an hourglass waist or a Dolly Parton chest. Give them a chance."
"They do want a woman that will screw on the first date. That's why they're in bars in the first place, an easy lay. I don't want that."
"You may not want it, but you do need it. You're going to die a spinster if you don't get out and enjoy what life has to offer you. But, it's your life, I can't live it for you."
"That's right, you can't." Carla sipped her lemonade and took her friend's hand. "Listen, I appreciate how much you care for me. You keep bringing this up because you want to help. I love that you care so much. But, I