"She's a whore that one," Pam said.
     I pulled a Kleenex out of my purse to blot my tears.  I often cried when I got angry; I hated that.  Crying just made you look weak, no matter what triggered it.
     Pam held my hand and wiped my tears off with her thumb.  The tender effect was a little weakened when she stuck the thumb in her mouth, but I figured she meant well.
    "I wouldn't call her a whore, but she's truly not as careful as she might be about who she goes with," I admitted.
     "Why do you defend her?"
     "Habit," I said.  "We were friends for years and years."
     "What did she do for you, with her friendship?  What benefit was there?"
     "She..." I had to stop to think.  "I guess I was just able to say I had a friend.  I cared about her kids, and I helped her out with them.  When she couldn't work, I'd take her hours, and if she worked for me, I'd clean her trailer in return.  She'd come to see me if I was sick and bring me food.  Most of all, she was tolerant of my differences."
     "She used you and yet you felt grateful," Pam said.  Her expressionless white face gave me no clue to her feelings.
     "Listen, Pam, it wasn't like that."
     "How was it, Sookie?"
     "She really did like me.  We really did have some good times."
     "She's lazy.  That extends to her friendships.  If it's easy to be friendly, she will be.  If the wind blows the other way, her friendship will be gone.  And I'm thinking the wind is blowing the other way.  She has found some other way to be an important person in her own right, by hating others."
     "Pam!"
     "Is this not true?  I've watched people for years.  I know people."
     "There's true stuff you should say, and true stuff that's better left unsaid."
     "There's true stuff you would rather I left unsaid," she corrected me.
     "Yes.  As a matter of fact, that's ... true."


--All Together Dead, Charlaine Harris