“She had signs all over the apartment.”  Mary dug in her oversized purse for a package of cigarettes and lit one.

“Signs? What do you mean, ‘signs’?” Anne shifted away, waving the air in front of her. They were sitting on the step outside Anne’s townhouse so Mary could satisfy her craving; she was accustomed to Mary’s ‘habit’ but it was still annoying. Mary had tried to convince her that in some smokers, the addiction to nicotine was worse than a heroin addiction, but Anne still believed her friend could quit any time she really wanted to. She watched as Mary inhaled deeply, and her face screwed up with distaste.

“Notes to herself, signs,” Mary answered. She blew the cigarette smoke to one side, not wanting to offend her friend.

“Like what? What did they say?”

“Like, ‘Don’t trust anybody’. ‘Don’t take anything from anybody’. ‘Cook your own food’. ‘Don’t eat or drink anything that didn’t come from the grocery store, sealed’.

“Jesus, she was really paranoid, eh? I heard she hadn’t left her apartment except to go to the store for two years. Two YEARS! Can you imagine?” The scorn was hard to miss in Anne's voice, but Mary went on, ignoring it.

“Yeah, they say it was because she was so heartbroken, but listen to this–the one sign that hurts the most.”

“What? What did it say?” Anne asked, her eyes glinting with eager curiosity.

“’You don’t need anybody.’”

“God, that’s sad. Was it because of Brian she became such a recluse?” The insincerity of her voice did not escape Mary’s notice this time. Anne was a odd duck, but Mary knew she had few friends, and she felt the best way to help someone have a change of heart was to set an example.

“Yup. When he walked out on her she started acting strange. Wouldn’t go out, hardly talked to anybody--that alone is enough to make anybody nuts. ”She eyed Anne, waiting to hear what Anne would say.

“But I don’t get it. Isn’t that the time you turn to friends? To help you get over him?” Mary breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe her imagination had been working overtime.

“Yeah, but they were together a long time, and besides, she didn’t have a lot of friends of her own. He was her whole world. It was always his friends, his family, you know?”

“Yeah; sad.” Anne really did seem to believe what she was saying. "He was always so possessive."

“Yes, very. I wish I’d kept in better touch with her. I called her three months ago. Even sent her a whole bunch of gift cards for Christmas. She seemed so pleased to receive them too.”

“You can’t blame yourself, Mary. Obviously she had issues. Even sharing a life with a guy like Brian tells you Sheila wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer."

“Oh, I know that, but still, after ten years with the man she must have felt pretty awful, pretty lonely.”

“I guess anybody would.” Anne shifted closer again, since Mary had stubbed out the stinky cigarette.

“I could have tried harder. I knew she didn’t really know anybody down here. Nobody but his sisters that is, and of course they wouldn’t be talking to her anymore," said Mary.

“ They wouldn’t? Why not? Just because he left—“

“But that’s the whole point. He left her because she cheated on him.”

“WHAT?” The unnatural light was back in Anne’s eyes. “How do you know?”

“That’s what she told me, about a year ago.”

“Holy crap. He fooled around on her for years! Even hit on me once.” Anne tossed auburn curls, as if to say she could hardly blame him, but it was still unacceptable behaviour.

“Yes, I know, me too. I put him in his place pretty quickly. I never did tell her. I couldn’t. But then that’s the way it is with these guys. They can screw around all they want, but the woman is supposed to be a saint. Different culture. Sex is just sex with them. Sheila was his 'Number One' allegedly.”

“That sucks. Good for her. At least she got some satisfaction before she got herself killed. But why didn’t she keep seeing the other guy after Brian left?”

Mary squinted at her friend. Had she heard Anne correctly? Was she really blaming Sheila for being murdered? “She did. Who do you think they just arrested? But she only called him out of the blue, and I hear he was pretty angry she hadn’t called him for so long.” Mary sighed.

“Hardly a motive for murdering her though.”

“Apparently that's not what the police think. And anyway, I don’t know…she told me he had a hell of a temper. It was part of the reason it was just that one time they actually did anything. Brian might have been a cheater, but he was always gentle with her.” She looked closely at Anne. Maybe she'd imagined any judgement in Anne's voice. Maybe she hadn't meant anything by it when she said Sheila got herself killed.

“But surely she’d seen this other guy for a while? It wasn’t like Sheila to sleep with somebody on a first date.” That much Anne would give the girl—she'd had her faults, but promiscuity hadn’t been one of them.

“Anne, of course. She called me several times to tell me about this guy she’d met, how she’d begged Brian to come home, that she was sick of this job of his always taking him away from her. That she was—she was lonely.”

“Hey, hey, Mary. Don’t tell me you're going to cry. It was nothing to do with you. You did your best just listening to her.” Anne patted Mary's hand as it fluttered nervously, then settled in her lap to lie like an injured bird.

“That’s just the point--I didn’t. It's three months since I talked to her!" Mary's eyes were welling with tears. "Three months is a long time when you’re all alone, and you know Sheila–Brian was her best friend. She called me a lot in the first year, but you know--you’ve always got other things on your mind, don’t you?”

“Yeah, we all have our own lives to live, and I guess three months is a long time. But let’s face it–I could’ve done better too. We hadn’t talked in over a year, and I didn’t know anything about any of this. I worked with the woman for half a decade, for God’s sake.” 'And thank God she didn’t confide in me,' she seemed to leave unsaid.

“She was a very private person. Pretty much of a lone wolf, except for Brian. What a shame!” It was hopeless. Anne would never change. Mary could see now that the tragedy was nothing more than casual conversation to Anne, of interest only as long as Mary had anything spicy to tell her.

“Yup. Sick world.” Anne pulled her compact from her tiny shoulder bag. “Come on. Let’s head over to Denny’s. I hear there’s a new waiter working there and he’s gorgeous," then added, "What about Brian? Does he know?"

Mary answered her quickly. "Are you kidding? Of course he knows. He was one of the first ones the police questioned. I hear he left the station and went right over to the apartment they always shared. I hear he sat on those steps brooding for hours." She paused, letting it sink in. Maybe Anne would finally realize these were real people they were talking about--friends! "Couldn't get in, of course. Police tape all over, and the door was sealed." Mary felt sorry for the guy, despite his philandering ways. He'd never tried it with her again, and he did seem really hurt when Sheila stepped out on him. She wasn't the only one in a ten-year relationship, after all, and she had heard through the grapevine he'd stopped chasing skirts--didn't even have a new girlfriend after leaving Sheila.

"Serves him right! Selfish prick." Anne rose, now that she'd freshened her lipstick. "Come on, let's go."

"Yeah...but I'm not really in the mood to stalk some waiter." She rose too, straightening her skirt. "I'm going to head on home." She walked away before she could change her mind, leaving Anne sputtering objections, calling her name. He might be a cheater, Anne, but we aren't the ones who should be judging him. That was up to Sheila--remember her? The one who is now dead? She gave in to her tears at last.

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