I am the oldest of four girls. We were known in and around Stone Harbor and Manhattan as the “four gorgeous giddy Grove girls.” “Giddy” because we were.

I’m Anabel. Anissa and Alana are twins; two years three months and three days younger than I am. Alexa is but seventeen months younger than the twins. I’m the accident. I’ve never felt bad about that. Most families have one. Our parents called me the “dynasty maker.” Really they were.

Our mother dressed us all the same. We wore velvet dresses for winter events; organza, lace or polished cotton for summer.

Until I was about twelve I loved being seen with my family. Unlike many of the other mothers, our mother was naturally blond. When our parents married, she converted to Judiasm. Many people including our grandmother thought she wasn’t a real Jew. Our parents didn’t care. And really everybody loved to look at us

Our mother was from the South and her voice was the sweetest most calming sound I had ever heard. When I need to relax today I put on Southern movies for background noise.

When I was twelve our mother told me I could choose my own clothes with her approval of course. When the other girls turned eleven they copied me. I became a hippie. They became hippies.

Our father cringed at our clothes but smiled at our loyalty to one another and the entire Family Grove. Being loyal to the Family Grove meant everything to our father.

Our long thick wavy but never frizzy varying shades of gold and honey hair was called “rich girl hair,” by girls who coveted our lives.

The summer I turned 20, my former fiancee Hunter married our cousin Sabrina. Being her only cousins we were all bridesmaids. I remember walking up the aisle, looking at my sisters and wondering why they were smiling a bit too brightly, not that anybody would notice. I don’t think anybody noticed Anissa seemingly gently touching the bride’s dress. Sabrina tripped as she reached the pulpit.

I choked on my laughter. I remember looking at my sisters and thinking how almost obscene it was that we cared so much about each other. Despite Hunter, despite the other girl’s first love failures, we were happy.
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I will be away for eight days making mirth with friends who are family and family of friends. Happy Thanksgiving, Americans! The one holiday we all almost celebrate. Always my favorite.

He stopped cutting my hair as he explained what he was going to do next. His hand deftly moved down my long hair, under the salon apron and onto my tailbone. Very discreetly I put my hand under the apron and slapped him. Later in many discussions of this after he stopped laughing he would claim most women wanted it.He’s evolved since then. We wouldn’t be friends….

Yes dear readers that was the start of a beautiful friendship 20something years ago. I didn’t realize I haven’t been breathing until he called from home early this evening.

His two brain aneurysms clipped, he sounded like his usual charming self. i don’t use the word “charming” lightly. He said if there’s anything he can ever do for me!!!

Hello, he’s been doing things for me for two and a half decades. I believe it’s my time to do for him. He sounded exactly as always: Latin lover with an amused edge. He is himself.

His phone messages were constantly filled. He would empty them and they would fill again. I hope he’s beginning to know how much he’s loved by so many people.

I couldn’t imagine my life without Rafe. Now I don’t have to.

I walk onto the balcony though really it’s too cold. He’s an argumentative drunk filled with self-love and loathing for almost all people. He’s to leave, not me. I own the shabby chic condo in a part of town that once was up and coming; striving to be Ocean Isle City’s Tribeca when it couldn’t even be Greenpoint, Brooklyn at the top of the bubble.

I know my weaknesses. I like liquor, men, make up and clothes, probably in that order. No men should be last but unfortunately needed.

Jerry thinks he’s still in charge. He thinks it’s life like it was at the turn of the Millenium when he had a wife and he had me. He had money and a career also. I liked him then. Once a month he would fly down for a long weekend. My job consumed just enough of my attention to let me go to Hatter’s,most nights.

Hatter’s a bar you would be laughed at if you asked for a tini drink. Martini’s at Hatters were always no name vodka straight up. The food was edible and sometimes wonderful.

I liked my life in Ocean Isle City on the coast of Florida. I had been a cougar since I was 28 and loved a 20 year old boy. Younger men made me feel alive. They would always obey me.

He’s younger. But what’s 45 when you’re 55? Jerry wants me to wither; to marry him so I cant be compelled to testify against him. He needs me to testify for him as his ex is planning on telling all.

I won’t help a man who out Madoffed Madoff. I let him drink and rage all he wants. For I know before midnight the FBI will be here to take him to jail.

Yeah he’s to leave not me. My karma will let me live the life I like. Bye bye Jerry

Thommy G does the words for 3WW. He’s one of my favorite bloggers as everything from his “outdoor column” for his city’s newspaper to his flash fiction is worth reading. I did 3WW for the first time in a long time but don’t know if I will link to it as I don’t know if I will be able to comment. Frankly it’s beautiful out and who knows when we’ll see warm weather again? Then that write a book in 30 days thing is happening. I’m not participating as I’ll be in New York for eight days but am trying to write 50,000 words in the next two weeks minus the a week plus the first two weeks in December. My own personal whatever….And really October would have made the perfect month. No major holidays until the last day. Nobody travels to visit the relatives on Halloween. Unless they throw one incredible party.
Thanksgiving is the only holiday that almost all people in the USA celebrate because really we’re all grateful to live in this country. I began a new life this past year. I’m very very thankful.