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Monday, February 2, 2015


Welcome to Tuesday Tales. Thank you for stopping by. This week's prompt is "ring". I'm continuing with Kate's story from The Dinner Club. 
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Standing in front of the mirror, Kate plucked at her hair as her nerves kicked up. Blind date? The ink is still fresh on the divorce papers.  

She paced and twisted the diamond wedding band on her finger, as she always did when she was tense.
Her dinner club friends found someone they wanted her to meet.
Dragged some guy in from the gutter for me. Dusted him off. Bought him a new suit. It’s a waste of time. I’m a loser who can’t keep a husband of twenty-six years. She stopped in front of the looking glass and perused her outfit with a critical eye.
Nail polish? She fanned out her fingers and bam! There it was, glaring and glittering right in her face. Her ring, she couldn’t very well go on a fix-up wearing a wedding ring, could she? With a twist and a pull, it came right off. She smiled at the thought that the ten pounds she lost since splitting up with Tracy meant the ring wasn’t stuck any longer.
She took a deep breath, smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt and picked up the ring. Her cell rang.
“Hi, Bess.”
“Where are you? Jerry’s going to be here any minute. You are coming, aren’t you?” Kate heard the anxiety in her friends voice.
“Don’t worry. I’d never stand you up. I mean, Jerry.”
“Good. ‘Cause he’s Hack’s second cousin and I wouldn’t want to get Rory in trouble. What are you wearing?”
Kate launched into a description of her skirt, sweater and jacket for her friend before hanging up the phone. She twirled the ring on her first finger as she leaned over in front of a tiny, decorative bowl.
After a brief hesitation, she let the ring slide down and into the dish. She sighed as tears gathered in her eyes. Kate reached the tissue box and blotted her eyes so as not to ruin her makeup.
Her finger felt naked. She rubbed her hand over the whitish area where her ring had been as she went out the door and down the stairs. Heading for the bus, she gave herself permission to not like Jerry, if he wasn’t to her taste. Jerry isn’t important. Taking this first step to a new life is what’s important. The bus arrived and she got on.  

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