Made For Sex by Joan Elizabeth Lloyd

to lie too much, she talked to her mother one evening about the possibility of spending more time with her grandchildren. “I’ve spoken about my old college roommate Ronnie,” she told her mother one evening over coffee after their return to Bronxville.
    â€œHow in the world did you find Ronnie?”
    â€œI literally ran into her.” Carla told her mother the story of her accidental encounter with her old friend, reassuring her that the medical scare had been really nothing.
    â€œAnd how is Ronnie?” Mrs. MacKensie asked. “I remember the vacation she spent with us. She was such a lovely girl.”
    â€œShe’s hardly a girl now,” Carla said. “She’s married and she owns her own business.”
    â€œYour father and I were always sure she’d go far. She seemed like such an intelligent girl.”
    Carla smiled to herself. “I wanted to talk to you about that. She wants me to join her business part-time. It’ll mean extra money and I could use it for the boys’ college fund. The costs are getting astronomical.” From upstairs, she could hear the laughter that always accompanied her father’s efforts to settle the boys in bed.
    â€œWhat kind of business?”
    â€œIt’s a service business of some kind. Public relations. I don’t know many of the details but it will involve entertaining clients in the city some evenings.”
    â€œThat’s wonderful, dear,” her mother said. “You need some other interests in your life besides your sons.”
    â€œIt would mean that you would have to stay with the boys more often. A few nights a week and occasional weekends.”
    â€œWeekends? How come? Not that I mind, you understand.”
    â€œGod only knows,” she answered, “but Ronnie warned me about some out-of-town stuff. I don’t know how often, but from time to time.”
    â€œThat’s great,” Mrs. MacKensie said, laughing. “Force me to spend time with the boys. Twist my arm.”
    Carla laughed as she always did with her mother. “Thanks, Mom.”
    â€œAnd maybe you’ll meet someone nice at one of those meetings. Maybe your friend Ronnie knows a nice man for you.”
    Carla laughed harder. “Mother, please.” When her mother raised an eyebrow, Carla said, “Okay. Maybe she does. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
    â€œAnd if a date keeps you in the city, like overnight….” She winked. “Just give me a call and I’ll see to the boys.”

    An early September heat wave baked New York City and the humidity that hung over the metropolis caused Carla’s short-sleeved rayon blouse to stick to her back. She walked up the brownstone’s front steps and rang Ronnie’s bell. “Come on in,” Ronnie called from inside. “It’s open.”
    Carla walked into the foyer and heard, “Lock it behind you, will you? Then come into the kitchen.”
    â€œSure,” Carla called, throwing the dead bolt.
    Carla walked to the back of the building and into the large, airy kitchen. Ronnie already had lunch laid out on the table: a green salad, a bowl of crab salad, and a cold pasta with basil. Crisp rolls nestled in a napkin-covered basket and a bottle of white wine stood opened beside two crystal glasses.
    â€œOh, Carla,” Ronnie said, hugging her friend, “I’ve missed you.”
    â€œMe too. How was Disney World?”
    â€œSensational. The rides were a thrill, the lines were short, and the siestas were…athletic.” She picked up a small package wrapped in silver paper. “I hope you don’t mind, but I bought you a present.”
    â€œA present? I didn’t think to get you anything, I’m afraid.”
    â€œI didn’t expect that you had,” Ronnie said. “But I saw this and couldn’t resist.”
    Carla tore off the paper and opened the small box. Inside was a pewter figurine of a