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Pulling into the driveway of her inherited ranch style house, Ava’s temper was as volatile as the approaching storm. After a disastrous date all she wanted was a friend, a margarita and her p.j.’s.
Looking across the hood of her late model Ford Escort, Ava could still see the image of her grandparents sitting on the front porch and welcoming her into their home and hearts with openness and love. The death of her beloved grandmother had caused the end of her freshmen year of college to be stressed and emotional. The fact that she had inherited their run down tan house with the newly painted red door had been an unexpected surprise.
When she and Roxi (her best friend since grade school) had agreed to live in the house and commute to school it sounded perfect to their parents. They split the utilities and since there was no rent they both worked part time jobs so that they wouldn’t have to ask their parents for money. Life was almost perfect, except for the whole no boyfriend thing. That’s how she’d ended up with the idiot that had taken her out tonight.
Stepping into the foyer of her home always made Ava feel so much better, the muted hues of yellow on the walls seemed welcoming and comfortable and the anxiety of her date dissipated.
Stopping only long enough to drop her keys on the credenza and kick off her shoes, Ava called out, "Roxi where are you? You will never believe this loser that I went out with tonight."
This was the luxury of sharing a house with your best friend you could enter the house venting and she would have the margaritas blending by the time you changed your clothes. As Ava strode through the hallway toward her bedroom, she began to unzip the form fitting dress that she had decided to wear tonight.
Shedding the dress that she had hoped would get her a second date and slipping on a fluffy terrycloth robe and feeling the delicate fibers brush against her heated flesh immediately relaxed her.
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