“Ofcourse, she does,” Liz whispered to me, pouting as she pinched at hernonexistent muffin top.
“Oh,yes, you’re so fat,” I mumbled, not bothering to mention that my heavilyelasticized yoga pants were starting to cut into my sides.
Wefollowed Esther into the house, making sure to smile at the picture of her latehusband Harry hanging above the TV. I had once forgotten to and she threatenedto send his spirit to haunt me while I was trying to shower. Harry wasapparently quite the pervert and wouldn’t argue with that type of arrangement,she insisted, and to spare myself the possibility of seeing apparitions in afoggy bathroom mirror, I never forgot to acknowledge the man of the houseagain.
Walkingthrough her dated house, her furniture potential candidates for a display inthe Smithsonian, we entered the dining room as she tottered into the kitchen toretrieve the cookies. We waited without a single word, each of us taking a seatat the old wooden table that seated more people than she saw most months out ofthe year.
Estherloved telling tales of how she would once host family get-togethers on aregular basis for her sisters, her husband’s siblings, and all their families.But once everybody started leaving, whether in death or a change in location,the get-togethers slowed to hardly ever at all. Even her son would pick her upand take her out to his place in Brooklyn whenever the family did get together,so her home sat, full of memories without any hope of creating new ones.
“How’swork, Elizabeth?” Esther said, carrying in a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies.
Reachingto take them from her, Liz said, “Oh, you know, the usual. Dr. Martin recentlytook on a whole new set of patients after I told him to put that ad in thepaper; which is good, except Debbie decided to leave after having the baby. So,I’ve been handling these new patient files and these different insurancecompanies, and I know it doesn’tsoundlike a big deal, but I think Imight be going insane.” She took a bite of her cookie and with a shake of herhead, she added, “I’m actually regretting the whole ‘ad in the paper’ thing.”
Esthershoved a napkin toward Liz as the crumbs dropped to the table’s surface.“Elizabeth, I just wiped this table down.” My sister hurriedly apologized andswept the cookie debris into the napkin. “If Debbie left and you’re taking onher workload, doesn’t that mean more money for you?”
“Myhours haven’t changed so, no.” Liz sighed with a roll of her eyes. “Dr. Martinpromised that I’d be getting a raise at the end of the year, but we’ll seeabout that.”
Estherwaved her hands in the air. “Oh no, honey. If your workload is changing becausethat tart Debbie went and got herself knocked up, never to return to workagain, then you deserve more money. Put your damn foot down.”
“She’snot atart, Esther. She’s been married for a few years now.”
“Butis it her husband’s baby?” Esther eyed Liz with a raised wispy eyebrow, and Ichoked as I took a bite of a cookie she must have baked just for me. Estherknew how much I loved oatmeal raisin.
“I’mnot asking for a paternity test,” Liz groaned. “But anyway, I know you’reright. I just like my job. I don’t want to piss Dr. Martin off.”
“Youwon’t,” Esther insisted before turning to me, deciding that Liz’s workdiscussion was no longer of interest to her. “And you. What’s going on withthat guy?”
Lizturned to me with her mouth hung open, suddenly remembering she had forgottento bring Brandon up with me again. “Oh, that’sright. Have you seen him?What was his name?”
Myeyes rolled. “His name is Brandon, and yeah, I’ve seen him. I saw him the otherday, and I was declared a friend, which is what I wanted, so … The end.”
“So,what’s your next move?” Liz asked, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.
“Idon’t have one?” I questioned, unaware that my love life was meant to betreated like a game of chess.
Thetruth was, I didn’t exactly know where to go from there. I wasn’t exactly ableto get out of the house and meet men who weren’t already married with children,and I had no interest in that scruffy barista Scott. Brandon had declared wewere to be friends, and not the kind with benefits, and I wasn’t too keen onthe idea of cruising the bars on the weekend in hopes of getting lucky.
Checkmate.
Esthershook her head with disappointment. “I would have at the very least made sure Igot my hands in that guy’s pants. Men don’t turn down sex if you’re persistent,or at least in my experience, and he sounded like a good one to take for aride.”
“Oh,myGod,” I groaned, never looking away from Liz, as though ignoringEsther’s grotesque comments would get her to stop.
“You’redisgusting,” Liz shot at the woman, who only shrugged in response and made sureher dentures were securely in place before grabbing a cookie. “Anyway,have you thought about checking the internet? Debbie found her husband on therea few years ago, and that was a one-and-done deal. She met the first guy thatmessaged her, fell in love with him, and they were married within the year.”
“Soundslike settling,” I mumbled skeptically.
Lizrolled her eyes with a tired sigh. “It happens, Holly. Sometimes you justknowwhen it’s right, and hey, at least they’re happy. That’s more than I can sayfor you.”
Ihad been hoping she wouldn’t mention the internet. I knew it was becoming moreand more common, and I had known people atTeen Queenwho had met theirsignificant others on various websites, but there was something that justdidn’t sit right for me. It seemed like a pathological liar’s playground, or awonderful way for a serial killer to lure his victims into his dingy old vanbefore trucking them away to some remote dungeon.
“Idon’t know,” I groaned. “It’d be my luck to set myself up with a guy who uses apicture of Ryan Gosling but really looks like a hairy potato.”
Lizeyed me through her long eyelashes. “Youknowwhat Ryan Gosling lookslike. You wouldn’t willingly go out with a guy who used his picture.”
“Who’sRyan Gosling?” Esther chimed in, her ears pricking at the sound of a man’sname. She rubbed her hands together as though she were about to feast on a finemeal. “Is he handsome?”
“Ithink Esther’s the one who needs to get laid, not me,” I laughed before takinganother bite of cookie. Liz laughed with a nod.
