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a sister.  He must have tolerated me because we were younger and growing up in the same house.  I understand he’s moody and broody, but for the love of God, Barbara and Harrison did their best to give us all good family values.  Maybe he escaped to the navy, as in, literally escaped.  He came of age and didn’t want to build a life in Hawkstown, but knew his hands were tied as a minor.  It doesn’t fit though; he’s never been hostile towards the Griggs and has made a decision to return here.  Unless it’s a stop gap and if it is, it’s sad to think we won’t be in each others lives, but it will be even sadder for Barbara and Harrison.  But it is what it is.
    I have an epiphany. 
    Jonas not being here for good or him treating me how he really sees me is liberating.  I feel like I should be making my own plans for the future and I can start to close that place in my heart that I reserved for him, knowing it’s never going to be.  I can stop judging all men because they’re not him.  I feel relief that I never opened up to Barbara and told her how I felt about him and I realize that he never once, over the years, gave me the impression that he felt anything for me. 
    This is it then. 
    With that final moment of clarity, I burst into tears.  I cry for what I’ve always wanted but never had, I cry for what I gave up over the years because my heart lay elsewhere, but most of all I cry for me.  I’ve loved him for so long that the prospect of not loving him is daunting and scary, but it’s my only real way of having a life again.
    After a good couple of hours, two rolls of toilet tissue, four bottles of beer and a family sized pack of tangy cheese Doritos I decide to call off the girls and the investigation.  I grab my phone, hit a new text message option on the phone and type:
    Me: Investigative assignment cancelled.  Depressed Dolly is now in da house .
    Texts fly back confirming they’ll be heading over here straight from work, so I clean myself up, put out more tangy cheese Doritos and plug in my zappy hand blender.  First through the door is Neely, she lives in an apartment across the breezeway.  Our complex is about 15 years old and a few miles drive from the middle of town.  I love it’s location, close to town and not far from Barbara and Harrison’s who live in what I would call classic suburbia.  She doesn’t bring anything, her store cupboard items will be used as refills if we exhaust my supplies.  There is an agreement that supply spares must be available of both apartments at all times.  Lottie then knocks a little tune, she expects me to try and guess this tune and I normally have a go, but today I don’t, so she understands my head is a shed right now.  Flo arrives last with a polite ring of the doorbell, she brings in additional carb supplies, seriously, any more bags of tangy cheers Doritos and I’ll need bleach and a wire brush to get my fingers clean.  What do they put in them?
                  “Dolly, what’s going on?  You look awful.”  Flo being kind, blunt and caring all in a few words.
                  “He came here after Mudjoes.  Told me to stay out of his business and leave him be.  His wish is my command.  I am done. D-O-N-E.”
                  “This is intriguing,” mumbles Neely.
                  “No. No. Not intriguing, don’t go all undercover Neely on me.  It wasn’t nice, I shouted at him a lot and I can’t carry on living like this.”
    The girls go quiet.  I take that as my cue to move to the kitchen counter and start mixing up some Dolly mixture.  The girls know I am shit at cocktails, I add what my hand falls on from the bottle cupboard, throw in crushed ice, blitz it in my zappy hand blender, pour, add a brolly and hey presto!
                  “Dolls, what are you saying?”
                  “Lottie I’m saying I’ve wasted years on this fucker.  He never