Spare Parts

“I can’t let him do this to me. Not again and not ever. The first time it was devastating. The second time everyone called me an ass, mostly behind my back, but I know that they did. The third time...well I am just not going to let it happen. There isn’t going to be a charmer for James.” Beth took a long sip of her coffee and set the cup down neatly in its saucer, and then she smoothed the napkin on her lap a few times. She pushed a strand of hair from her face, wishing her bangs would grow out already. Deidre knew the signs. Beth was biding for time. She was searching in the deeply packed library of her mind for the right comment, bit of advice, or sympathetic sentence. It wasn’t there. She didn’t have anything to say to Deidre. She had said it all before. Now whatever she could come up with would sound put-on, phony, or worse, unfeeling. Deidre said, “I know what you’re thinking.” “Do you, because I don’t?” Beth stared at Deidre and both wome