“You finally came back, I thought you were dead.” Her attention was drawn to Mrs. Owen, she looked the same as Flora remembered. She couldn’t recall her name though. Everyone had always referred to her as Mrs. Owen.
“Can I help you with something to eat?” Flora asked politely. She offered Flora her plate as she snagged an egg, “Some of that please,”
“Would you like some potatoes too?”
“Makes me gassy and bloated.”
Flora frowned. “Never mind.” She shouldn’t have tried. She sat Mrs. Owen at the table then headed to the bar. She had forgotten the after funeral ritual of gathering and talking while dining with relatives. She didn’t feel comfortable in the least, all she wanted was to leave. She was on display. Everyone thought she abandoned her parents. She’d never been outgoing like her cousin. She poured herself some bourbon and sipped as she watched from a far.
Flora knew she was sometimes compulsive, she only had one addiction. She loved reading, her taste in reading leaned towards self-help books mostly because she wanted to learn how to conquer a man. She was about to exit the bar when a stranger tapped her shoulder.
“Hi,” she tried to remember if she knew him.”
“Don’t try so hard, I’m Ricky.” The gentleman stretched out his hand for a handshake.