Authors: Megan Caldwell
As long as Aidan and I were together, and we were both happy, it was okay. So what if I wasn’t on the cutting edge of fashion? So what if all my nicest clothes dated from at least seven years ago? So what? It didn’t matter. I felt good about myself.
That
was so what.
Lissa popped out of the bookstore doorway before I’d even spotted her. “There you are,” she said in an accusing yelp. I jumped.
“What the hell are you doing lurking in the shadows like that, Lissa? Jeez, remember, I’m older than you, you could’ve scared me to death.”
She grabbed my arm and yanked me. Hard. “Come with me, and nobody gets hurt.”
“My arm already hurts.” She loosened her grip a little but still kept a firm enough hold of me so I would know she wouldn’t let me escape anytime soon.
“We’re almost there.” She was walking so quickly she was starting to gasp. I was too confused by what we were doing to worry about my own breathing.
She turned right on Tenth Street, her perfect little face screwed up in concentration. Then her eyes brightened and she pulled me down three steps to a dark doorway. There was a neon sign in the window for a liquor I didn’t recognize. At least we had stopped speedwalking.
She pushed the door open and held it for me. I walked in, blinking a little as my eyes adjusted to the dark.
“Surprise!”
There they were. All of them, spread out before me like a class photo.
The cacophony of voices almost knocked me off my feet. And if Lissa hadn’t been in back of me, I would have turned right around and run out.
John, my mom, some local college friends, neighbors, a few mom-friends, Simon, and . . .
“Hey, girl.” Keisha walked up and gave me a big kiss on the cheek. “Surprised?”
I just looked at her with my mouth open. She laughed, then hugged me close. “Yeah, I thought you would be. Lissa and I decided you needed a coming-out party, sorta like those southern belles, only for fortysomething moms who’ve dropped the excess luggage. Think of it as your divorce party.”
“But I’m not divorced yet.” One of the moms swooped in and gave me a fierce hug. “You look great,” she whispered in my ear.
“Okay,
freedom
party then,” Keisha said in an exasperated tone. “You have that, right?”
“But—but . . .”
“This is for you, sweetie. Something Lissa and I figured you’d never do in a million years.” Lissa walked from behind me and clasped me quickly around the shoulders. “It’s a karaoke bar, and you are going to sing tonight, honey,” Keisha continued. Her face was almost gleeful. No, it
was
gleeful. The bitch.
“Oh, no I won’t,” I said, beginning to edge backward almost without thinking. Lissa’s hand shot out and placed itself firmly on my back.
“Oh yes you will,” she said, poking me in the shoulder blade. Two bitches. “If I can read the great classics of literature without moving my mouth, you can perform karaoke.”
I laughed, in spite of my anxiety. “This isn’t something I would never do in a million years, though. This is something I would never do
ever
.”
“Speaking of doing something you never ever thought you would—did you see what I got?” Keisha extended her left hand, which had a tiny, winking diamond on her ring finger.
“Oh my God!” I screamed, launching myself back into her arms. “When did he ask? How did it happen? What did your dad say? When can I meet him?”
She pulled back and put her hands on my upper arms. She had a sneaky grin on her face. “You can meet him tonight. Mike, come here!”
A tall man emerged from the shadowy figures near the bar. He was good-looking, classically Irish, with dark red hair and a smile I could already see was rogue-ish.
“Molly, this is Mike.” I stuck my hand out and he took it, placing a light kiss on the back of my hand.
“Ooh, he is charming,” I said in an audible aside. Mike’s grin deepened.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Molly,” he said in a deep voice.
“All of it nice, so don’t even think it,” Keisha interjected. I nodded and smiled, unable, for once, even to think of anything to say.
I reached out and gave Keisha another hug. “You are the best friend in the world,” I whispered into her ear. “I am so glad you came out.”
Keisha put her hand on my back and rubbed my shoulder blades. I could tell by the way she was breathing that she was beginning to cry. “You’re my best friend, too, Molly, and it’s time for you to start loving yourself as much as I do,” she whispered back.
I pulled away, grabbing Lissa by the arm and holding on tight so she could hear, too. “Keisha, I think I have. I really do. It’s the craziest thing, even I can’t believe it, but I do. I’m not in love yet, but I am quite fond of myself. And, with a few more dates, I should be well on the way to admiration. From there, who knows?”
The girls giggled, then we came together in another hug. Mike leaned into our group. “What can I get you to drink, Molly?”
I thought. What would I want at my Freedom Party?
“A sidecar, please.”
“You go, girl, only don’t make me pick you up off the sidewalk.”
I turned to Mike and spoke in mock exasperation. “The worst part about having friends for a long time is that they remember what happened a long time ago. Keisha, we were in college. What was that, twenty years ago?”
She rolled her eyes and held up her hand. “Don’t remind me. Okay, point taken. But make sure you drink water, too,” she said, wagging her finger at me.
“My mom’s right over there, Keish, I don’t need another one.” I slipped away from the group and walked over to where my mom was deep in conversation with Simon. What in heaven’s name could they be talking about? I hoped it wasn’t me.
“And she is an excellent mother, and so charming,” I heard as I approached them. Next she’d be making him examine my teeth.
“Hi, Mom, Simon. This is such a surprise.” Simon was wearing another ultrachic shirt, this time with the top three buttons undone so I could see a little patch of chest hair. I’d never liked chest hair anyway.
“Well, isn’t this nice of your friends to do,” Mom said, shooting Simon a sidelong glance. “It’s because you’re such a good person.”
Simon smiled, that slow, lazy smile I’d lusted after the first time I met him. God, what kind of an idiot was I to want to pass this by?
“Or maybe no one was doing anything else tonight,” he added in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. Oh, I was
that
kind of idiot.
Why did my friends even invite him, anyway? I’d have to corner Keisha later and find out.
I wondered exactly why he’d come. Did he still harbor visions of us getting together? Because as I recalled, I’d pretty much told him no. Or maybe he really didn’t have anything to do.
Mike came up with my drink, nudging it into my hand. I took a bigger sip than I’d intended, wishing I could wash away my agony over my mom’s blatant comments, Simon’s pomposity, jealousy over Keisha’s happiness—and, oh, hell, was that Nick I saw? I thought he’d left without saying good-bye. And here he was. At my Freedom Party.
I took another swallow, then pushed my glass back into Mike’s hand.
“I don’t want to give Keisha the satisfaction of being right, but I do think I have to watch it tonight,” I muttered to him. “Can you grab me some water or something?”
Mike patted my arm and headed to the bar. I met Nick’s gaze, and something in my stomach leapt.
“Who’s that, dear?” Mom asked, a hopeful tone in her voice as she watched Mike at the bar. If she had her way, I’d be involved with all of the men in Manhattan, at least all of the ones with college degrees. I didn’t want to tell her anything about Mike because I bet she’d get all intellectually snobby on him.
“Keisha’s fiancé. He came with her from California.”
“Oh,” she said, her disappointment evident in her tone.
“Molly, dance with me,” Simon commanded. Prince’s “Cream” was playing. Dancing was probably my second favorite thing, right after hanging out with Aidan. It sure wasn’t sex—Hugh had made sure that activity had gotten bumped down almost to double digits.
I wondered if Nick danced. I did not even allow myself to think about Nick having sex. Imagining him in rhythmic motion in public was risqué enough.
“Oh, of course.” We headed toward the dance floor, Simon taking my hand and guiding me as if I were unable to handle it myself.
Simon was a good dancer, I had to give him that. He moved his hips as if he knew what to do with them and he kept gazing in my eyes as we moved.
I wondered, uncharitably, if the PR woman he’d been with at the opening night event had not met his mum’s standards.
If I weren’t so over him, I’d be halfway to bed with him on this one dance alone. Although I could tell he knew how good he was, and that he wasn’t paying a speck of attention to me. Unless, maybe, it was to ask me what I thought of his dancing.
“Thanks, Simon, I want to go say hi to some other people.” I walked off before he could try to persuade me otherwise.
“Molly!” John came up and enclosed me in a huge hug. He stepped back, eyeing my outfit. “You look amazing.” He took my arm and steered me farther away from the music. “Thanks for everything, Mol. Your work saved my ass. I owe you.”
“What are you talking about? You’re the one who’s saving me, hiring me even though I don’t have experience.”
He shrugged. “I knew you could do it, and probably do it better than anyone I could find with more degrees. Plus, you’ll work for cheap.”
I laughed. “That is true. So we’re even.”
My eyes wandered back over to where Nick had been. Now Lissa stood there alone, and I got a crazy idea. “Stay right here, John,” I said, heading to where Lissa stood. I grabbed her and drew her back to where John was. “John, I’d like you to meet my friend. This is Lissa. Lissa, this is John.”
John looked as though he’d seen an angel. Which, given how gorgeous Lissa was, was likely true.
Lissa just looked pleasant, as she always did. “Nice to meet you, John.”
I couldn’t quite figure out what they might have in common, besides breathing and both being available, but I knew John was enough of a salesman, and Lissa was empathic enough for them to figure it out themselves.
Sure enough, before I’d even left them, they were talking about men’s fashion and where to find the best sushi.
Yay. I liked it when I could do nice things for my friends.
I came up to where Keisha was surveying the crowd. She spoke without looking at me. “In case you’re wondering, Molly, the karaoke begins at nine
P.M.
And we’ve got the first half hour solidly booked.” Then she glared at me, as if daring me to back out. I knew she’d never let me hear the end of it if I did, so I made sure to keep my mouth shut.
“Wonderful,” I managed to say. I walked to the bar and leaned my elbow on it. Mike handed me a highball glass filled with something fizzy. I took a sip, relieved to find it was seltzer.
“Hi, Molly.”
I nearly choked on my drink. Nick had somehow managed to get next to me without my noticing. I placed my drink down so I could wipe my sweaty palms on my pants.
“Hi, Nick. I didn’t know you were still here, I thought you’d left already. I mean, we had the event, and all, and I thought work was done. But I’m glad you’re here. I really appreciate it. Of course, I’m terrified for when the singing actually starts, but everyone knows I can barely carry a tune, even if I know the words to most of the popular songs from the past twenty years.”
Dear God, I was babbling. And he was looking at me with that understanding glint in his eye, as if he knew just how uncomfortable I was. I only hoped he didn’t know how much I wished he’d lean over and kiss me.
“You’ll do fine. Your friends will make sure of it. They’re quite fiercely protective of you, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh?” I replied as nonchalantly as I could, taking another sip from my drink. “Did they say anything?”
He chuckled. “They didn’t have to. As soon as I said my name, your friend Keisha gave me this appraising stare, and the other one, the blond one, made sure I knew just how smart and funny you are, and how many people—that is, men—are just lying in wait for your divorce to be finalized.”
Who knew Lissa was in training to be my mother?
“Oh. Well. Sorry about that.”
He shrugged. “Don’t be. Friends like that are precious. So what if they threaten someone’s liver with a rusty butter knife? It just means they care about you.”
I snorted into my drink, making the seltzer jump up my nose. His face got all concerned, like when someone accidentally ingests liquid into their nasal passages. Or just makes a complete and total ass of herself.
“You okay?” He reached out his arm and patted me on the back. I wiped my nose surreptitiously on my polyester sleeve. Hm. Not so absorbent.
“Fine. Great. Fine.” Oh, God, I was babbling again. I checked my watch—at least seventeen minutes until the torture—that is, the karaoke—started.
“Want to dance?” At least it’d be better than trying to figure out how many ways I could find not to blurt,
I have the worst crush in the world on you, and I wish you were just the least bit interested in me.
“Sure.” So he did engage in rhythmic motion. Nick reached out and took my glass from my nerveless fingers, placing it on the bar. Then he grabbed my hand and led me toward the dance floor, like Simon had, only this time it was not so much proprietary as solicitous. Or so my biased brain said.
Stevie Wonder’s “As” was starting to play. What cruel devil DJ was making me suffer so? It was long, well over five minutes, and it was one of my favorites, and it also usually made me cry. Not what you wanted to hear when with your unrequited crush.
I looked up into the tiny DJ booth and saw Keisha lodged up there, enormous headphones stuck on either side of her close-cut hair. I stuck my tongue out at her, then looked back at Nick.
“Ah, Keisha just . . . oh, never mind,” I said, giving up on explanations. I looked down and stared at my feet.
A strong hand lifted my chin. I met Nick’s eyes, and I could tell, even in the dark room, they were amused. “C’mon, Molly, I know you’re not as shy as you pretend. I saw you dancing with Simon before and you didn’t look at the ground with him.”