Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

I run my tongue over my furry teeth and pray for a fairy
godmother to materialize and bring me water and aspirin. With
a chaser of beer. “Why are you calling me so early, you
heartless witch?”
She laughs. “It’s not early, it’s ten o’clock. I’ve already
taught two yoga classes, had breakfast, and reorganized my
closet. And you promised you’d call me by now, remember?”
I don’t, but that’s probably due to all the white wine at
dinner…and all the red wine after I got home. Thank god I
didn’t get into the bourbon.
Yet. I’ve still got the whole day ahead of me.
“Why did I promise I’d call you?”
There’s a loaded pause. “We’re taking your dress to
Second Wind.”
Oh god.
Whimpering, I throw an arm over my face and close my
eyes, as if that will help me hide.
She says firmly, “Don’t even think about coming up with
an excuse. We’re putting your wedding gown on consignment,
Nat. Today. You have to get that thing out of the house. It’s
haunted you long enough.”
I’d accuse her of being too dramatic, but haunted is the
right word. The damn thing appears in my dreams, rattling
chains and groaning. I can’t walk past the closet where it’s
stored without getting chills. It’s taken on an otherworldly
presence, and not an entirely friendly one.
“Okay.” My voice drops. “But…but what if…”
“Please don’t say it.”
We sit in silence for a moment, until she relents. “If David
ever comes back, you’ll buy another dress.”
I bite my lip, hard. Having a friend who knows you so well
is both a blessing and a big, fat curse.
When I stay quiet too long, she gets nervous. “Look. The
one you have now is bad juju. It’s got too much negative