Susan Mallery: Two of a Kind

Early in their friendship, Consuelo had told Felicia a little about her past. At first Felicia had thought they were practicing traditional female bonding, but over time she’d realized Consuelo was testing her. Trying to see if she was a real friend or someone who couldn’t take the truth. Eventually Felicia had convinced her she was unshockable. She frequently participated in mission debriefings. The soldiers she knew were killers. Consuelo was no different and had her own ghosts to deal with.

“You need a man,” Felicia said.

Consuelo stared at her. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop. If I want to get laid, I’ll find somebody.”

“I wasn’t thinking about sexual release, although that’s very pleasurable. You need a relationship, a place where you can allow a man to really know you and believe he cares about you.”

Dark eyes turned dangerous. “We are not having this conversation.”

“All evidence to the contrary?”

Consuelo made a sound that was suspiciously like a growl. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“I’m unmoved by your threats. They’re meaningless. You’d never resort to physical force, and you’re only mentioning them because they work on the guys.” She allowed herself a small smile. “I’m smarter than them.”

“You’re also a pain in my ass.”

“Both cheeks?”

Consuelo laughed. “Yes, both cheeks. Fine, I can’t threaten you into silence. I don’t want a man.”

“I think you want what I want. A place to belong.”

“It’s sure not here.”

“Why not? You’re taking a job here. Logistically it makes sense to find a relationship close to your employment.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“I acknowledge the element of chance in pair bonding. I’m just saying while you’re here, it wouldn’t hurt to look.”

“I’m not the PTA type.”

“You don’t have children. Why would you join the PTA?”

Consuelo raised her eyebrows.

“Oh,” Felicia said slowly, once again slightly out of step with the conversation. The difference was with Consuelo, she didn’t have to feel self-conscious about it. “It’s like a picket fence. I get that. You’re not traditional. Neither am I, although I’m trying to move in that direction.” She thought about the women she saw around town. Young mothers with children. Teenagers talking together and laughing.

“Anyone you’re interested in?” Consuelo asked.

“Gideon.”

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