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She had planned it that way, giving herself time to compose herself, relax. She had never been much of a drinker, perhaps the reason why she had made the decision she had, spur of the moment, much to her sister's shock if not horror when after a while spent chatting, he had passed her the key. "1301" it had marked on it. She had shown it to Grace who once again had done everything possible short of dragging her out by her hair to keep her from going. Had it not been that she'd had a couple of drinks, perhaps caution would have ruled, instead, she stood up from the bar and headed towards the elevators... and destiny.Janice had just ordered her second gin and tonic, watching as the bartender approached with it in hand. She turned reaching into her purse."Allow me."The words sent a chill racing up and down her spine even as she turned back around facing the bemused bartender as he accepted the bill."You made it!" she breathed thankfully."I told you I would," he said soothingly. She felt. He’d been so wrong! She remembered the shock as he yelled at her, calling her a slut. She’d done nothing to earn that name - nothing!For the first time in her life, Prudence began to examine the events of that fateful night from a different perspective. Bobby was right. Relatives were supposed to be hugged. And that’s all she’d done. She’d hugged her brother-in-law, and only because he’d made her laugh. Harry had seen something that just wasn’t there. Then she had turned that hug into something that it wasn’t, because she believed that hug had killed her husband. Now that she was able to look at it from a different direction, the knot of hurt and self loathing began to loosen inside her. She’d felt guilty for fifteen years. She’d remained in mourning for fifteen years. And, now that she thought about it, her own guilt had bled over to Constance. Her own daughter was so unnerved by a simple compliment that she couldn’t face the man who had paid it.She called Constance into the kitchen.
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