The Devil Wears Sneakers
Heads turned in a quick search for the source of the bang and in a fraction of a second zoned in on me and my once-proud-and-afloat balloon hanging limply from my hand. Half-empty, lip-stained glasses of flat beer and grape juice stood in odd clusters on the center table that divided the office kitchen into two. The bottle of wine that I had saved up for and brought remained unopened. A Christmas card filled with nearly incomprehensible scrawlings about being 'happy for me' lay next to it. Christmas was six months ago. “You almost scared Michelle right out of me!” Denice’s shrill voice cut through the silence. She rubbed the top of her swollen belly and cooed in a soft voice, “Everything is fine, my little gumdrop. Mommy’s got you all safe and sound.” “This is exactly why I said balloons are a horrible idea,” Janice said. Gold-painted bangles and loose skin jingled and waved as she pumped her short arms up and down to emphasize her point. “If it were *my* farewell - ” “We can o...