Nothing had really happened that night, but it was enough to be out with a strange man. Her friend Ivy had gotten divorced for less and now her own mother wouldn’t talk to her. “Served her right,” was Carl’s only comment. Raylene feared his suspicious nature might see through the little white lie of Girl’s Night Out that she and Connie had cooked up over the phone that afternoon. If she couldn’t find that necklace, she might never again live happily in her little house with the corner windows, or go to the Women’s Club. No one invited Ivy nowadays. How could she have let herself ruin her life for an actor she didn’t even know? Didn’t her vows to “love, honor and obey” mean anything? Her mouth was dry as she flailed in the dark in hopes she’d feel the necklace’s delicate clasp or a stone buried in the shag, anything. Suddenly she screeched.
“What in Christ’s name—“ Pat came bounding back as Raylene heaved back, hit her head on the tabletop, her right palm sliced open by broken glass. “Damn, I don't like the look of that. Where’s the house manager? We need medical help!" Pat boomed as he pressed cocktail napkins into her bloody palm, deftly tying his handkerchief as a tourniquet as she swooned against him.
Raylene moaned, bitterly disappointed. He felt so warm, so manly, so alive, and her panic had ruined everything. Now she'd never know how far down his chest hair grew, but she'd get blamed as if she had. It was so unfair, she thought, and her eyes filled with tears. Pat's arm encircled her as tightly as the thoughts squeezing her head. Would Carl take the children? It didn’t happen often, but women had lost kids in an affair. Just because hers ignored her didn't mean she wanted to live without them. Why had she been so selfish? Why hadn't she thought of them before this?
"Oh god, I can't move my fingers," she said
"Don't worry your pretty head about that, they’ll fix y’up fine."
"But if I can't signal properly, I can't train,” she moaned. “It’s my right hand, I'm starting a new dog next week."
"Aw, honey, don't look on the dark side. In Guam you'd still be fightin’ with that hand, ‘n happy you could."
He’d accompanied her to the Emergency room, her hand swelling by the minute, where she remembered croaking, "Pat? I'm so sorry I ruined your evening."
"You didn't ruin it, you’re damned necklace did. You're gonna be OK. Like you asked, I called Connie and told her the whole story, she’ll tell Carl to pick you up tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”
"I hope so," Raylene choked from her gurney.