Cheesecake and Teardrops by Faye Thompson

pour. Ava opened her umbrella, and they huddled together in the rain. Her wrist accidentally dropped and her fingers brushed against Heather’s breast. She quickly apologized, and Heather accepted her apology. Funny thing, though, Heather wasn’t quite sure it was an accident.
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    Heather’s car died two blocks from her house that evening.
    She walked home in the pouring rain without an umbrella.
    Her naturally curly hair was totally soaked. Once inside, she took a hot shower and got into some dry clothes.
    Heather called Charisma to see if she could pick her up that night since they were all meeting for dinner at Heather’s favorite spot, Cabana. It was a little Spanish restaurant in Forest Hills. Parking was always at a premium there, so usually they’d all ride in one car. If no parking spots were available, they’d park in the lot and split the cost three ways. That night they were lucky. A car was pulling out just as Charisma turned onto Austin Street.
    Tangie hopped out the car, dashed into the restaurant, and quickly gave her name to the hostess. The place was packed, but that was the norm, especially for a Friday night.
    They waited at the bar for about forty minutes before their table was ready.
    Once seated, they ordered a pitcher of sangria. The waiter returned with the sangria and the menus. After their usual toast, they sat back and enjoyed the ambiance. They loved the fun, lively atmosphere. There was an element of electricity in the air that could not be denied. Even though it was a Spanish restaurant, all kinds of patrons—Latinos, blacks, whites, Filipinos, Asians—frequented the hot spot.
    The waiter returned shortly and gave them a description of the specials that night—in Spanish, of course. Except for a few words here and there, they had no idea what he was saying. He appeared very patient, and then described the dishes in English as well. They skimmed over the bilingual menu and made their choices. Finally, he returned with their appetizers of little beef turnovers and thinly sliced plantains.
    â€œI can’t believe my car conked out on me again on my way home from work,” Heather began. “I ended up walking home in the rain.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disgust.
    â€œWhy don’t you just buy another one? It doesn’t have to be brand new,” Charisma reminded her.
    â€œI wish I could,” Heather told her. “But plastic surgery doesn’t come cheap, and I can almost taste that nose job.”

6
Charisma
    Charisma rushed home Wednesday night to get ready for Dex. He had just gotten back in town and was coming by straight from the airport. She took a long, hot bath in Cinderella’s Wishes Sug-arbutter bath crystals before moisturizing with the body butter. She smelled like a dream as she slipped into a sheer black teddy and waited for the fireworks to begin.
    Dex called a little after six to say he was in a cab, stuck in traffic at JFK. By seven they were in each other’s arms. “I missed you,” he told her as she greeted him at the door.
    â€œHow was your flight?” she asked.
    â€œSmooth, but long.”
    â€œHungry?” she asked him.
    â€œI think he’s hungrier than I am.” He took off his coat and dropped his luggage by the door and took her in his arms.
    For a few moments, there was nothing but silence as their mouths got reacquainted.
    â€œYou always smell so good.” He held her tight, burying his face in her neck. “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”
    â€œI know the feeling.” She held him close, massaging the back of his neck with her right hand. Then she grabbed him by the hand and led him into the bedroom. “Come on.”
    They quickly made their way onto her queen-sized bed, where he practically tore off his shirt while she unbuckled his belt. Standing, Dex then unzipped his pants, removing them along with his boxers, shoes, and