"Go to the main road and take a right."

"Actually," Jenny said as she stood up, "I have to get going and I'm headed in that direction anyway. Do you need a ride?" "I thought you were staying here tonight," Laura said with a question in her voice.

"I'm sorry, hon. I forgot I have to meet a client up in Manning first thing tomorrow morning. Her rapist is up for parole and she wants moral support when she speaks before the review board." She stood up and collected her purse. Laura rose as well.

"All right. I'll give you a call next week."

"Okay."

Once outside, Crystal lit a cigarette, the gray smoke forming a cloud near her face.

"Those are bad for you, you know."

"So I've heard," she replied, taking another long drag. "I suppose you don't allow smoking in your car either?"

"It's actually a loaner car while mine is in the shop but I've always found that the ashtray makes a great place to throw spare change." "Figures," Crystal muttered, drawing as much smoke in as she could before tossing the butt away. "Are you a health nut like Laura?"

Jenny laughed and unlocked the doors to the car. "I'm not as bad as she is. I can enjoy a good burger and fries." They climbed in and with a turn of the key, the engine roared to life. She reversed the car out of its space, then guided it down the turning drive that lead to the main road. "So are you from around here?"

"Milton," Crystal replied. "About an hour up the turnpike."

"I know where it is. Big factory town."

"Big nothing town, you mean," the blonde woman said bitterly. "Milton is a nothing town filled nothing people."

"Your family still back there?"

"Wouldn't know, I haven't talked to them since I moved out."

Jenny nodded, her eyes never leaving the road. "How old were you when you ran away?"

Crystal's heart skipped a beat. "You a psychic or something, Doc?"

"I told you I'm a therapist." She slowed the car down as they approached a traffic light. "I'm perceptive. It's a necessary skill when dealing with people who aren't always forthcoming with their feelings."

"Yeah? So what else does your great perception tell you about me?" She crossed her arms defensively.

Jenny looked at her, then back at the road as the traffic started moving again. "Your answer tells me that I was right about you running away." "Just as soon as I could," Crystal said. "A little more than a year after Patty did."

"At the house you said that she ran away when you were fourteen. You ran away when you were fifteen?"

"There's that perception of yours again." She looked out the window, dimly noting the liquor store sign approaching in the distance. "I tried to run away with her but I got caught. I tried three more times before I succeeded."

"It must have been pretty bad for you to try so hard to get away."

"Is this the point where you tell me all my problems are because of my fucked up childhood?" She pointed at the liquor store. "I don't need therapy to know that." Crystal opened the door before the car had come to a complete stop. "Thanks for the ride, Doc." She stepped out and shut the door, not giving Jenny a chance to respond.

The streets were deserted save for the occasional car, giving Crystal the freedom to drink from the bottle as she walked. By the time the complex came into view, her gait had a decidedly drunken sway to it and a third of the bottle's contents were gone. It was only as she approached the building that Crystal realized she had not taken her keys with her when she left. Fuck. Miss Tight-Ass will give me a lecture for sure. She brought the bottle to her lips and took a large swallow, wincing as the burning liquid made its way down her throat. She used her sleeve to wipe her mouth before reaching for the doorbell. Her head was pounding from the whiskey and all she wanted to do was lie down. "Dammit, open the fucking door, Laura." She hit the doorbell again, following it quickly by pounding her fist against the door. Sweat formed on her upper lip and Crystal leaned her forehead against the frame. She hadn't eaten anything more than a couple of carrot sticks all day and her body was quickly telling her that she had exceeded its limits. "Oh fuck," she whispered, feeling her stomach roil again. She pressed the doorbell repeatedly until she heard Laura unlocking the door. "Move!" Pushing the puzzled woman out of her way, Crystal staggered to the bathroom, barely lifting the toilet seat before her stomach made its final rebellion.

Laura closed the outside door and shook her head as she heard her roommate vomiting into the toilet. "Crystal? All you all right?" She received a retching sound in reply and groaned inwardly. I see you found the liquor store. "There are washcloths in the linen closet." "Gak -okay."

Laura went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water. She heard the toilet flush followed by the sound of the faucet being turned on. Minutes later a more composed Crystal exited the bathroom. "Thanks," she said, taking the offered glass.

"Feel better?"

Crystal nodded. "A bit."

"You should eat something. It'll settle your stomach."

The blonde woman thought about the three microwavable dinners sitting the freezer and shook her head. "Naw, I'll be fine."

"Suit yourself." Laura opened the refrigerator and peered in. "I have a batch of leftovers from the party. Nothing much, batch of sandwiches and the rest of the veggie platter." She grabbed the plate of sandwiches and held it up for Crystal to see. "There'seg.salad, ham and cheese " She looked quizzically at one of the neatly cut triangles. "Um your guess is as good as mine." She handed the plate to Crystal. "Help yourself. Other than the eg.salad, I don't eat any of it." After getting a bowl of tossed salad for herself, Laura grabbed a bottle of dressing and used her hip to close the refrigerator door. She nodded in the direction of the living room. Reluctantly the blonde woman followed her out of the kitchen.

Laura settled on the couch while Crystal took the recliner. An awkward silence formed as neither was certain what to say to the other. Crystal took a bite of her sandwich.

"How is it?" Laura asked.

"Good." She took another bite, her stomach appreciating something healthy for a change. Realizing that she couldn't just eat her roommate's food and disappear back upstairs, Crystal resigned herself to being at least somewhat sociable. "So your mother and brother showed up, where's your father?"

"He died seven years ago." Sensing the opening allowed by the question, Laura tucked her right foot up under her left thigh and took a sip from her glass. "What about you? You said you have an older sister. What about your folks?"

Crystal took another bite of her sandwich and shrugged. "Last I knew they were both alive and living up in Curtisville."

"You don't talk to them?"

"No." She picked through the sandwich triangles on the plate before settling on what looked like chicken salad. "I haven't spoken to them since the day I left." She took a bite and grimaced. "Ugh, what is this?"

"Isn't that the one I said I had no clue?"

"Must be." The stripper looked around and spotted the paper bag sitting on the counter. The buzz was starting to wear off. Well if you want to chat, I'm gonna drink. She stood up and went out to the kitchen, returning moments later with a rock glass filled withi.e.a bottle of cola, and her whiskey. She was just sitting down when Laura decided to resume the earlier conversation.

"So why aren't you in contact with them?"

While not unexpected, the question did cause Crystal to hesitate and look over at her roommate. "It's a long story."

"I'm a good listener."

Silence reigned as Crystal waged an internal war. Don't tell. The words echoed over and over in her mind. No one will believe it anyway. "Let's just say it wasn't a happy time in my life." She reached down and picked up the glass and whiskey, pouring until the amber liquid filled more than half the glass. She added just enough soda to change the color of the drink, then settled back in the recliner.

"Is that what the nightmares are about?"

Crystal swallowed, wincing as the burning liquor made its way down her throat. "You want the Reader's Digest version?" Her voice was tinged with anger. "My father is an asshole and my mother is a spineless coward who cares more about what the neighbors think than about her kids." The glass made its way to her lips again.

"Is that why your sister ran away?"

"You think of a better reason?" Normally Crystal would have ended the conversation by now but the alcohol was doing a good job of keeping the defenses down. "I took off a year later."

Laura's brow furrowed as she did the mental math. "You said earlier you were fourteen when she left. You were only fifteen when you ran away?" "Fifteen and a half, actually. Not the best age to be out on the streets but what the hell. It was better than being with them," she said bitterly, her gaze focused on the coffee table.

"There wasn't anyone you could turn to? An aunt, a teacher?"

Crystal snorted and drained her drink. "Once Patty told a teacher what was happening. She called our mother." Her face turned hard and she reached for the whiskey bottle. "Guess who she told?"

"Your father?"

The stripper nodded. "He beat Patty senseless. You think I was ever stupid enough to tell someone else?" She shook her head and made another drink. Somewhere in Crystal's drunken mind it registered that she was doing exactly that. She was telling her roommate, a woman she barely knew, that her father used to beat her. This time she didn't bother with the cola, drinking the whiskey straight. "I bet the characters in your stories never have such sordid pasts, eh?"

"Um, no not usually."

"Of course not." The liquid sloshed around in her glass as she gestured with her hands. "This is normal to you. A nice home, a reliable car, a family that loves you

I never had that." The urge for a cigarette was growing as was her desire for a strong hit of pot. She tugged lightly on her shirt. "I think I'm gonna go change and relax on the balcony."

"I guess it is kind of warm tonight. I'm sure you're due for a cigarette too." Laura stood up and reached for Crystal's glass. "I'll get us both fresh ice and meet you up there."

Meet me? Damn. There was no good excuse for refusing Laura's company and she did say she was going out on the balcony. "Uh, yeah sounds good." She picked up the whiskey bottle and headed for the stairs, determined to get a hit in before her roommate joined her outside.

Crystal was pulling on her shorts when she heard Laura coming up the stairs. Damn, you're quick, she thought as she zipped up and walked over to the nightstand. Opening the drawer, she pulled out a small flat wooden pipe and one of her many lighters. She took two quick puffs before putting it back and closing the drawer. Grabbing her bottle, cigarettes, and ashtray, she stepped out onto the balcony seconds before Laura.

"Oh good," Laura said when she saw the ashtray. "I wasn't sure you had one, especially when I saw all the butts on the grass." "I usually don't think to bring it out here with me." Crystal flopped down on the white plastic chair and reached for the glass Laura had brought up for her. "Figured you'd have a fit if I tossed one over the rail."

"You figured correctly," the dark haired woman replied. "It took me a good fifteen minutes to pick all those up this morning." "Fine, I won't toss them anymore." She lit a cigarette and reached for her bottle.

"Are you working tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I've taken more nights off lately than I can afford as it is." Crystal looked out at the shadowed outlines of the trees as dusk settled. "You ever hear the owl?"

"Oh, you mean George? Yeah, I hear him at night sometimes when I'm up late writing." Laura looked out as well, as if she could spot the elusive bird hiding between the leaves.

"There used to be an owl that lived in the trees near the trailer park," the blonde woman said, taking a drink between sentences. "At night sometimes I'd hear him. I used to lie awake wondering who he was looking for."

"The love of his life, I would imagine," Laura said. "Isn't that what we're all looking for?"

"I'd rather have money," Crystal said, her eyebrows raising when she heard her companion laugh. "What?"

"You don't have a romantic bone in your body, do you?"

"I don't believe in fairy tales." She brought the glass to her lips, finding comfort in the familiar smell of whiskey. "Life ain't the Brady Bunch." "No, it's not," Laura agreed. "But it isn't Oliver Twist, either. Life is what you make of it."