Envy

"You guys," Marty said, shaking his head. "I'm just amazed. You never envy anybody; you're never jealous or bitter because some idiot had another dream come true. Honestly, I wish I was more like you." Trudie and Shel smiled sweetly and shook their heads. "Bad luck comes to everyone," they said (almost in unison). "Let them enjoy their moment, because we all know that it can't last." Shel trudged off to get them a couple of coffees at the bistro truck, and Trudie watched him go. "We don't envy - that's true," she confirmed (turning back to Marty quietly), "but we gloat. We gloat enough for an army when the worm turns, baby." It was the "baby" on the end of her sentence that got him when Marty ran the whole scene again in his mind later that night; it was rough, like Trudie had a flask and a pack of unfiltered smokes tucked into the pocket of her blush-colored church coat.