“Hmm. Cabernet or Chianti?” I can’t decide. I know Steve loves Chianti, but its not my favorite - not even close. And we had it last week, so... Cabernet it is!

I love shopping at Gucci HEB. Well, its really called HEB Central Market, but when me, my twin sister Blaire and best friend Lindsay walked in our sophomore year of high school, it somehow felt to us like a couture store. There were all these gorgeous women in amazing suits and dresses picking out the best wine for dinner that night, or what bread smelled the freshest. One was debating with the butcher on which cuts of meat to buy, and she reminded me of the old-fashioned housemothers that were very well versed in things like that. Overall, it became a symbol of success for the three of us, a place were we all wanted to shop at all the time when we became rich and fabulous and could actually afford to shop at stores like Gucci.

Is that my phone? Ugh, I have got to change that ringtone. Sarah? She was supposed to be in the country with her man.

“The fucking bastard has a GIRLFRIEND!!!! For two fucking years!!! And you know what else? She’s five months PREGNANT!!!”

“No.”

“Yes! I can’t fucking believe it!” Sarah loves the word fuck when she’s pissed.

“Where are you.”

“At home.”

“Your apartment or your moms?”

“My apartment. Mom is in Colorado visiting her parents.”

“I’m on my way.”

I dump out the contents of my handcart in the refrigerated beer section, grab another bottle of Cabernet and two of Chardonnay and head over to the frozen section for pizza and those breaded, deep-fried cream cheese filled jalapeño poppers, then off to the bakery for cheese cakes, all the while calling the rest of the Calvary.

Here’s the thing about the Cavalry. We’ve been the closest of friends as early as middle school and as late as seniors in college. It started with me, Blaire, and Lindsay, writing notes with those cool colored gel pens on black paper, and it sort of just grew from there. We get together every month to catch up, gossip, and bitch. When one of us hit’s a rough patch, we all work together to get her out and back in the game. And for something like this, every one of us drops as much as we can to support her.

Dashing off to the twenty or less registers, I finish off a call to Sydney, who will make it in two hours after she gets out of a presentation. It’s a good thing I have the day off, or else she would be alone until one of us got off work. I pick up speed as I see a woman laden with three kids screaming for sweets headed towards the register and practically throw the frozen pizza at the cashier.

“Party tonight?” Is he flirting with me?

“Is it invite only, or is anyone allowed?” A wink? Ok, he needs to be shut down, and fast.

“My best friend ditched a guy she really liked not ten minutes ago because she just happened to find out that he had a serious girlfriend of two years who is five months pregnant.”

“Oooooh. Yeah, I’ll take a rain check.”

“You never had a check to begin with.” I flash my wedding ring and give him an apologetic smile as I swipe my card. “Sorry, but when one of my girls is down, everything else is on hold until she’s functional.”

“Wow. That’s kinda cool. You have a good day.” How is that possible with a girl in hysterics?

“Thank you.”

I rush to my car, throw my purchases in the passenger seat and gun it toward Sarah’s apartment complex. As I pull out of the parking lot of Gucci HEB I continue with the calls. I can’t get a hold of Elsie, so I switch to text, marking them urgent. She calls right when I turn onto the street that Sarah’s apartment is on.

“I’m just down the block, I was on my way back to the office. Its no biggie, I was on an audit and the company was surprisingly prepared and efficient.”

“I got goodies. It seems like its gonna be a long one.” I hang up and punch in the code to open the gate of the apartment complex and we park by Sarah’s car.

“Shit yeah. I wonder how far she is on the voodoo doll.” Elsie grabs the bottles of wine and I get the rest. Climbing up the stairs to her door, I fumble for my emergency key and unlock the bolt and doorknob in one smooth motion, shoving the door open in the process.

And there, in the middle of her living room surrounded by all the gifts, pictures, and memorabilia of her time with the ass fuck, is our girl Sarah. Dressed in tattered sweats and her hair a birds nest, she looks up at us with puffy eyes red with tears of rage and sadness. We haven’t seen her so thoroughly wrecked since the new years party our freshman year of college, when she learned how to play beer pong very, very badly. In front of her, she already had a voodoo doll dressed with a pin stuck in the genital area.

This was bad.

“Oh, honey.”