Meg's Moment

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Authors: Amy Johnson

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MEG’S MOMENT

By

Amy Johnson

World Castle Publishing

http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

World Castle Publishing

Pensacola, Florida

Copyright © Amy Johnson 2011

ISBN: 9781937593254

Library of Congress Catalogue Number 2011937352

First Edition World Castle Publishing October 1, 2011

Second Edition World Castle Publishing May 26, 2012

http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

Licensing Notes

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles and reviews.

Cover: Karen Fuller

Editor: Beth Price

Dedication

 

For Josh, Zach, Ashley and Tyler. My inspiration and my world.

Chapter One

“Passion or comfort? That is the question. Which is more important in a relationship?” asked Megan Malone, domestic Goddess, column author, mommy to two Golden Retrievers and one defiant gold fish. Megan was seated at her weekly ‘What’s the Topic’ luncheon with the girls at their usual table in the ‘Usual Place’, a trendy soup and salad joint in the middle of town.

“Clarification?” asked Josie who
wa
s infinitely 25, blonde this week
,
and dressed in leather from head to toe.

“Ok
ay
. Would you rather be with someone who you are absolutely comfortable with where you don’t have to put up a front and pretend? Someone who knows you better than you know yourself and knows exactly what you want and like. Or would you rather be with someone who sucks your breath away with a look, looks at you like you’re lunch, then scoops you up and devours you sexually until you forget your own name
?
” Megan clarified.

“This for you personally or for the column?” Stacy inquired. Stacy
wa
s the most logical and sensible of the girls. She
was
30 years old, live
d
in a sensible home on a sensible street, drives a sensible car and has been married for five years to a sensible man. Nothing wrong with any of that except
,
sometimes, sensible is boring. And in Stacy’s case boring and predictable could quite possibly describe her from cradle to grave.

“What?” Meg asked a little preoccupied.

“The question. Is it for you personally or for the column?”

“Oh!” Meg faked surprise bringing her hand to her chest and making her eyes wide. “For the column
,
of course. I’m perfectly happy in my marriage,” she lied.

“Who you trying to convince
,
honey?” asked the always observant Mickey. Mickey
wa
s a therapist’s wet dream. He’s a bi-polar transvestite who ha
s
living a double life down to a fine art. You see
,
Mickey
wa
s a bit confused. Sometimes he want
ed
to be a boy in which case he dresse
d
like one and
went
by his birth name
,
Michael. Other times he want
ed
to be a girl, a diva really, and dresse
d
in drag
,
usually cramming his size 13 foot in stiletto heels. While in drag he
went
by Mikayla. Since most of the time he w
ore
jeans and a T-shirt the girls just call
ed
him Mickey and he tend
ed
to bounce back and forth from Michael to Mikayla at random. Today he
wa
s just Mickey
,
styling in his skinny jeans and pink T-shirt that ha
d
the word ‘Princess’ blazed across the chest.

“Ignore him. He’s just looking for some scandal,” Ali said giving Mickey a stern look.

“I don’t have to look for it
,
honey child. I am a walking scandal. Scandal makes life fun. What you need is a little more scandal and a lot less drab. Ok-ay
.
” He high-fived the other women at the table while Ali kicked him under the table. Ali
wa
s the newlywed. We hate her. She
wa
s totally in love with her new hubby and never let an opportunity pass to let the world know. Sometimes we want
ed
to smash her in the head with a rolling pin but mostly we just love her and
we
re happy that one of us finally found the real thing. Ok
ay
,
so we env
ied
the hell out of her. Sometimes.

“Can we just get back to the original question please?” a frustrated Meg asked.

“Passion or Comfort?”

“Passion! Absolutely! Life is too short to spend your time in bed with a mechanical robot stuck in missionary position. I
,
for one
,
need a little variety. A little spice,” reported Josie.

“Well that’s one way of looking at it. I mean we all know that the reason you can’t make it to a third date with anyone is because you’re a spoiled princess pain in the ass. But if you look at it that way it appears that you replace them instead of you getting dumped. Optimism works for you babe
.
” Mickey took a long pull on his lemonade and opened his mouth to start on her again but stopped when Ali kicked him under the table again. Josie eyed him with narrow slits that
,
if looks could kill
,
would have spontaneously combusted his head right then and there.

“Well I for one vote for comfort,” Stacy began. “We all know that passion fizzles after a while and I would take comfort and continuity over passion anytime. Love isn’t always excitement and sizzle. It’s hard work and when the passion is gone the important thing is that you have something left
, s
omething that will stand the test of time. Like comfort. With yourself and with your partner
.
” Meg nodded and Josie and Mickey both rolled their eyes.

“Boring.” Mickey and Josie both said in unison.

“No
,
not boring. Sensible. Realistic,” Stacy defended.

Another eye roll.

“What do you think
,
Ali?” Stacy asked hoping for a little support.

“Well
,
” Ali sat her diet coke on the table and played with the straw
,
“I think you can have both. Look at Bill and me. We’ve been married 2 years now and we are completely comfortable with each other. We are set in our routines and habits and
,
sure
,
life is fairly predictable but just a look can set our souls on fire and make our stomachs do flips. We have comfort by day but at night we can set the sheets on fire, and usually do. It’s like once naked we turn into animals and the passion drips off of us like sweat. Why just last night…”

“Boring,” Mickey and Josie interrupted.

“Why is it boring? Are you saying true love is boring?”

“No. True love isn’t boring when we’re in it. But since we’re not, we don’t want to hear about it. So
,
like I said
,
Boring
.
” Josie waved her hand at Ali as if to erase the matter.

“You’re just jealous!” Ali responded with narrowed eyes.

“Hah! Jealous of what?” Josie demanded with an incredulous look on her face.

“How bout of the fact that while you’ll be at home tonight with cucumber slices on your eyes to get rid of those hideous bags I’ll be at home in the arms of my prince
,
who loves me so thoroughly and deeply that I sleep so pleased and relaxed that I don’t end up with a big zit on my forehead caused from the stress and loneliness of being a shallow tramp like you
.
” Everyone gaped openmouthed at Ali who picked up her diet coke, took a long swig
,
and innocently shrugged her shoulders. Meanwhile Josie had the metal napkin holder examining her forehead and searching for imaginary bags under her liquid brown eyes. “Bitch,” she muttered then jumped from the booth in a mad dash to the bathroom with her menu covering her face.

Ali gave a sweet smile and asked the group “
W
hat?” All innocence and sincerity.

“That was mean,” Megan began. “You know how she gets about wrinkles and bags and stuff. Ever since she hit thirty it’s been one constant nose dive. We all need to be sensitive to that.”

“She started it!” Ali exclaimed.

“She deserved it!” agreed Stacy.

“Back to the question guys. Mickey?” Megan asked attempting to change the subject.

“Passion! All the way
,
Babe. When the passion

s gone it’s over. Sianora
,
Sweetheart. Time to move on. If you don’t the other person will. Passion is the name of the game
,
girlfriend.” Mickey gestured for the waiter and asked for a refill of lemon
ade
.

“That’s so typical of a man
,
” Stacy began. “All they’re interested in is sex, sex, sex. I bet if you asked ten men on the street without their wives present they would all agree with Mickey. It’s so freaking shallow and… and….”

Mickey interrupted with obvious disgust. “Do I look like a man today? Hello. I am wearing my pink ‘princess’ shirt and pink suede sneakers.” He stretched one long leg out, swung it around
,
and plunked his size 13 on the table. “Now
,
I never come to lunch with the girls as Michael. So all opinions expressed here are the sole beliefs of the vivacious Mikayla. And furthermore, Josie is all woman and she agrees with me. And once the new wears off Ali’s marriage she’ll feel the same. And Stacy…well
,
Stacy wouldn’t know passion if it crawled up her leg and bit her on her g-spot.” He removed his foot from the table, took a sip, swallowed and continued. “You see
,
I’m a realist
.
I know when to hold 'em and I know when to fold 'em. When you shake up the bottle and there’s no fizz left
i
t’s time to chunk it and shop for a new one.”

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