“And what’s this about me looking rough? Some friend you are.”
“Never said you weren’t gorgeous. Just saying your dark circles have dark circles, and you’re not wearing makeup. That never happens.”
We’re walking across town at a decent clip, since Fat Jerry’s is a solid ten minute walk away, and I’m grateful that I thought to wear flats today. We pause at a crosswalk and the stress of my stupid decisions bubbles out of me.
“I’m a freakin’ mess, Molls. I cried myself to sleep last night, and I overslept, and I’m not firing on all cylinders. I had to fucking double check my usage of lie today. Lie! No one knows the difference between lie and lay like I do! It’s one of the many things that makes me the Queen of Grammar! And I had to look it up! Next, I’ll be confusing who and whom!” I blubber and sob.
“Christ on a cross. Forget Fat Jerry’s, we’re going to Mahady’s. You need a drink. Or seven.”
We cross the street and hang a left, and Molly essentially drags me the three blocks it takes to get to Mahady’s. I snag a high top table while Molly makes a beeline for the bar. Moments later, she’s back with a gin and tonic for herself and a Shirley Temple Black for me, complete with extra cherries. I give her the side-eye, because we’re in the middle of the work day, but the look on her face tells me not to argue. We drink and browse the menu, and I congratulate myself for ignoring the fact that I drank one with Simon on our first date and made a quip about my cherry, and he thoroughly satisfied me up against a brick wall mere minutes later. Yep, I’m totally ignoring that fact…
“So when we last saw our sassy heroine, she was in a steady, steamy relationship with Simon Walker. No?”
“Yes.”
“So why is he off sick and you’re sitting here, two sips away from crying into your big girl drink? There’s no way he dumped you. I just can’t see that happening. He kind of worships you, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“I hadn’t. Well, not fully. And it’s just as well. He doesn’t worship me anymore, I assure you.” I stir the ice mindlessly with my straw.
“What the hell did you do? Have sex with his neighbor and then kick his dog? Give him a blowjob with teeth?” Molly’s joking in an effort to make me feel better, but I get the sense that she doesn’t realize the magnitude of my mistakes.
“God, no.” Leave it Molly to make me laugh on a craptastic day like today. Our server arrives, and Molly orders a slew of appetizers, and I don’t stop her. I also don’t stop to think about what my mother would say about this meal. Patrice has done enough damage. Our food arrives, and I spill my sad tale, leaving nothing out.
“So you just walked back in your house and cried in your thoroughly-christened sex chair? That’s the saddest damn thing I’ve ever heard. I need another drink.”
“Well, I didn’t have a lot of options, Molls.”
“The hell you didn’t. Option number one: stay with the boy who gives you orgasms. No need for any other options.”
“If only it were that simple.”
“It’s exactly that simple, but you refuse to see it that way. You need to get your mother out of your head. I swear, if I ever meet that woman, I’m going to throat punch her.”
“I’ll be sure to introduce you.” I smirk, picturing that meeting. There’d be a serious throwdown, no doubt. “Seriously, though. I know you think it’s silly, but she really does have a point. I’m at a place in my life where I’m ready to settle down and have kids. I can’t force Simon into that.”
“Forced?! Elaine, you haven’t even inquired. That’s a far cry from forcing!” An outraged Molly is a loud Molly, and I wince at her volume.
“How do I broach that subject? Do I just invite him over for a movie and stick some popcorn in the microwave? Then, while it’s popping away, do I casually add, ‘Speaking of timers that are about to go off, my biological clock is beating like a drum. How’s Yours?’”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being honest.”
“Honestly ridiculous. And look, even if you are reluctant to broach that subject this early in your relationship, that doesn’t mean you dump him, so he can pursue some girl he’s not remotely interested in.”
Well, when she puts it like that… “Listen, I know it sounds crazy, but I felt like such a freak at that party—I felt old and frumpy and awkward and out of place. And in walked this adorable girl who was all perky and nerdy, and it was like someone shined a spotlight on the list of reasons that Simon and I will never work. I felt like I was looking at his future mistress, and I thought I’d skip some steps and save us all some heartache.”
“Elaine, that’s insanity. He adores you, and he’s never given any indication that he wants anyone but you.” Molly, who usually understands my mania, looks totally dumbfounded.
“Yes, I know. And that’s exactly what Simon said. But, Molls, it felt so true at the time. I felt like the walls were closing in and I couldn’t get a good, deep breath, and my pulse was racing, and in those panicky moments, I was absolutely convinced that I was doing the right thing.”
“E,” she reachers for my hands, which forces me to look her in the eye. “He’s not Logan.”
“I know. I know—” My reply is quick, and even I know, I’m protesting too much.
“But do you? Because you’re definitely treating him like he is. At the very least, you’re making him pay for someone else’s sins, and though I’m hardly a relationship expert, I know that’s never wise.”
Molly’s right, and I know it. What I don’t know is what to do about it. My head believes one thing, and my heart believes another, and right now, they’re not talking to each other.
