Unravelled Read Online Free Page A

the scruff of the neck and shaking him playfully. “Who’s the best boy in the whole wide world? Who’s the best boy?”
    “Umm . . .” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “ He is?” It was likely a rhetorical question, but it couldn’t hurt to answer.
    Mel continued to gleefully roughhouse with her beloved pet, who had now jumped up and was licking her face. While Mel was laughing delightedly, I couldn’t help but cringe. I mean, only a few minutes earlier I’d watched Toby licking his wiener with that tongue! Luckily, she didn’t notice my distaste. For the moment, she seemed to have forgotten I was there.
    “Okay, you precious thing,” she finally said, in that drippy voice reserved for dogs and very small children. “Go get your ball now. Go get your ball for Mommy.” Employing the long stick-thing, she threw the tennis ball for Toby, who happily rollicked after it.
    “So . . . I’d love to get my own place,” I said, in an attempt to pick up the stream of our previous conversation, “but rent’s just too much on my own.”
    Mel, who had been staring lovingly after Toby, turned to me. “Have you ever thought of getting a dog?”
    “Me? A dog?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Well...no,” I said, somewhat taken aback that she would even make such a suggestion. I was definitely not one of those women who could replace my human offspring with a little fur-ball named Mitzy. Of course, I didn’t want to offend her, so I said, “There wouldn’t be room in Kendra’s apartment.”
    Mel shrugged. “You could get a little dog. The companionship and unconditional love you get from a dog is just so . . . powerful. Once you have that”—she took a sip of her coffee—“you realize you can do without a lot of things in life . . . like men.”
    “But I don’t want to do without men,” I blurted. “I want to fall in love! Get married! Have kids and a house! I’ve always wanted that, since I was a little girl.” As soon as it was out, I realized how pathetic I sounded. My desire to have a husband and 2.4 kids made me sound like some throwback from the fifties. I mean, it was hardly my dream to become the next Mrs. Cleaver, staying home baking cookies in my housedress all day. I fully intended to maintain my freelance writing career and my hip wardrobe, but having a family was like some biological need beyond my control. It was old-fashioned and a little embarrassing, but I couldn’t help it if I had the mommy gene.
    But before I could explain, Mel threw the ball for Toby, then said, “That attitude isn’t going to help you any.”
    “Attitude? What attitude?”
    “Beth...” Mel sighed heavily, as if she were trying to communicate with someone several IQ points below her dog. “Men are like cats. The more you want their affection, the more they’ll ignore you.”
    I started to object, but stopped. That analogy was actually quite appropriate.
    Mel continued. “Look at me for example . . .”
    I did. My friend was dressed, as usual, in her purple waterproof Gore-Tex jacket, a pair of pilled, fleece tights, and brown hiking boots. Her sandy blonde hair was cut into a short bob with a thick, blunt fringe running across her forehead. Mel’s face was what you might call pleasant—not quite attractive enough to be pretty, but nice to look at, just the same. She wore no makeup, and her complexion had a ruddy glow.
    “Not exactly Halle Berry,” she said, as if reading my mind.
    “Oh . . . well . . . you’re very attractive in your own—”
    She held up her hand to silence me. “I have men after me all the time. In fact, I have to struggle to stay out of a relationship.” This seemed plausible. When I met Mel, she was still with her second husband. Since their split six years ago, there had been at least a dozen boyfriends. “And do you know why?”
    “Why?”
    “Because I don’t need them,” she said, taking a long sip of her latte. “Men can sense it. It makes them want to conquer you or something.”