Gloria removes a white lacy bra off the doorknob and holds it in front of Brenda, who snatches it with a smug look on her face.
“Haven’t got the chance to clean up in here.”
“How are you doing, Brenda?” Gloria sounds concern. She hugs her bright yellow stripe arms together as she stands back and watches the young woman wave the bra in the air with a small shrug.
“Marc left me and took the baby with him. We agreed that it’s for the best. The really fucked up part is the fact that I’m glad he did. We tried to make it work as a family, but what good am I to my daughter if I’m always partying and coming home late at night? I still go out with other women. I think about them nonstop! Marc barely touches me anymore, and when we speak, it’s mostly about the baby. I’m doing great. Selfish beyond belief, but hey, what can you do?”
Gloria’s eyes soften behind her purple tinted aviators. Brenda tosses the bra on a bean bag chair near her stereo sound system. She moves to collect empty beer bottles and jello cups that are left on the coffee table. Gloria holds the back of her neck underneath her long mane of light brown hair. She hears Brenda dumping her trash into a Rubbermaid trash bin beside the patent leather couch.
“It’s okay if you need to reach out to me, Brenda. Whenever you’re struggling,” she tells the young mother.
“This isn’t some challenging math equation, Gloria! We’re talking about my life! It can’t be solved! I’m hopeless!”
“You’re not hopeless,” Gloria gives her a stern look. “I know how much you love Marc and your daughter. Alexis needs both her parents in this crazy, wonderful world. Maybe if we all come together and sort it out—”
“Maybe a different day when I’ve taken a shower and not smell like cheap perfume,” Brenda interrupts her. She smirks while Gloria grimaces.