"Thanks for helping me bring up the groceries, Melody. Glad I ran into you in the parking ramp at just the right time, but if you're free tonight I'll make it up by inviting you for dinner. I'm trying a new recipe for a stew - nothing fancy, but I'd like you to share it with me. Right back, got to pee." Doreen slipped into the bathroom, and Melody began to put away groceries; she had done this occasionally before with Doreen, and anyway, her own apartment was identical, the one-bedroom-and-den model, but three floors below. "Okay, that would be nice. I don't exactly have a huge social life since Howard and I split up - what? - four months ago, I guess. How time flies when you're having fun, I guess. I'm going to run downstairs to check my messages and mail, but I'll be back in ten minutes or so and help with dinner." "Yeah," called Doreen through the open door and tinkle, "That was just about when Barry and I did, too. Remember how we tried to get drunk that weekend. First time I got kicked out of a bar." "Well, sort of kicked out," agreed Melody. "We almost did! Anyway, this will be nice. We haven't had dinner together in weeks. Do you want the tomatoes put in the fridge or out?" "Maybe half, Melody. Leave half there in that basket by the sink. You can put the bananas there, too. Hey, we did have dinner together just a while ago at The Fish Barn - it was the day after my aunt visited." "I meant a home-cooked meal for fun - just us. No officious waiters. No tipping, either. Hey, Dori, what is this? A disposable enema! Do you have a doctor's exam?" "Oh, that," Doreen half giggled. "No, not exactly." "What the heck does 'not exactly' mean?" "Well... it means more like being plugged up. Exactly like plugged up. Like four days, and like I need something like an enema. I know you think those thingies are full of chemicals and wreck your system. Well, I actually agree, I guess - I mean they really give me bad cramps, usually - but I need one tonight, Melody." "Well, I suppose you know what you need, but I think just a nice, soothing bag of warm water would work a lot better and really feel refreshing instead of crampy. You told me those squeezies always make you all crampy." "I just ... I just don't do those. They just sound so ishy, all that water. Not that the squeeze ones aren't ishy in a different way. They feel cold going in and then my tummy gurgles and groans and bellows, and then it all just gushes and just about bends me over in cramps. And after all that I still have cramps and feel nauseous for a while and like I'm going to have to run back to potty again and again. Bleah! Poo! Anyway, I am not even sure how to do the big ones exactly, and I don't have a syringe bag thing anyway." "Well, Dori, I use real lightweight enema baggies that can be disposable, and I know I have an extra few. They come with a soap packet, everything you need. I'll bring you one when I come back up. Consider it a present." "Just thinking about it very much makes my tummy get in a knot. I probably invited you to dinner so I could put off my treatment tonight, or at least not focus on it till I needed to. Just go check your mail and hurry back." "Okay, I will. But I will bring my doctor bag." "What? Now you're sounding kinky. You can bring me that enema bag if you want to leave it as a present and maybe I'll think about it, but no doctor bag, honey!"