About Perfect Fit

by Anah Crow
14 pages / 5400 words
Available file types - html, lit, pdf, prc

Sam is a doctor, which turns out to be a good thing when her roommate's sister shows up on her doorstep and her roomie is out of town. Rose has just broken up with her boyfriend, and has decided that sex is way too much work, and not all it's cracked up to be. Is something wrong with her? Sam is happy to help Rose discover that her problem isn't medical at all. Can Sam show Rose that sex is more than worth the trouble?

Sample

“Can I come in?”

My roommate’s baby sister stood on the mat outside our apartment, twisting her fingers together in front of her so hard I was afraid she was going to break one of them.  Her nose was red and her pouty mouth was unusually puffy, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t just the cold.  I ran a hand through my limp faux-hawk and stepped back from the door.

“Sarah’s not here,” I warned her.  “She’s off on a conference.”  It was easy to remember that Sarah wasn’t around, the floor under my feet was gritty and almost every dish we owned was piled up on the counter by the sink, dirty.

“Oh.”  Rose stopped in the hallway, looking bereft.  “I just...” she sniffled and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her Burberry coat.

“You can come in, though,” I said.  She looked miserable and small and I was a big sucker.  Besides, it was Rose.  Sarah would kill me if I didn’t look after her.  “It’s not like I was doing anything tonight.”

“Thanks, Sam.”  She put down her purse and her book bag and hung her coat up in the closet.  There were a couple coats of Sarah’s there, but mine were somewhere else in the house: usually over the back of the chair or kicked behind the door.

“You want some tea?”  That usually fixed most things for Sarah; I didn’t know how well it would work for her little sister. 

Just because I had boobs and a pussy didn’t mean that I had automatically gotten membership to this secret society of women who knew what to do when something went wrong.  Me, I tended to grab a beer and put on wrestling or something.  At work, at the clinic or in the ER, I was a champ.  Just don’t ask me to mend broken hearts in my off-hours.  In the kitchen, I plugged the kettle in, and picked a mug up out of the stack of dishes to wash it for her.

“Thanks.”  She stood in the doorway to the kitchen, looking put together and neat, her hair pulled back in a twist at the nape of her neck.  She didn’t wear makeup, or she hadn’t been tonight, because there were no streaks from mascara or eyeliner from her earlier crying.  She took off her wire-rim glasses and cleaned them on the hem of her blouse.

“You want to talk about it?”  I got myself a beer from the fridge, and then hopped up on the counter.  I was going to need a drink if I was going to discuss any kind of girly-issues.

“Simon dumped me.”  She said it quite steadily and for a moment I thought that she was doing was okay, then tears dropped onto her blouse and she sniffled.  “I didn’t even do anything wrong.  It’s not like I could help it.”

Oh, damn.  I was really bad at this kind of thing.  That was why Sarah and I got along so well.  She was good at one set of things, and I was good at another set of things.  We were so different that the idea of us being anything more than friends was ludicrous, though, even if she were interested in women.  I got down and went over, putting my arm around Rose.

“Of course it wasn’t your fault,” I said.  “He’s a man.”  That was really all the explanation I needed for why men were jackasses sometimes.  They couldn’t exactly help it.  With my arm around her, she put her head on my shoulder, and cried harder.  That wasn’t how I remembered it working.  I was supposed to give her a hug, she was supposed to sniffle a little, and then she was supposed to say that she was fine. 

“I tried.”  Rose just cried harder and I wondered if I was doing something wrong; maybe I had missed a step.  At work, I usually knew what to do to fix most problems and the nurses got cried on the rest of the time.  “It’s just so embarrassing.”

About the Author - Anah Crow