Georgia on Her Mind(4)

Lucy taps my hand. “You’re going to be okay, Macy. This whole thing will straighten itself out, and you know what? I bet you’ll be Roni’s boss this time next year.”

“Are you crazy? She would never, ever let that happen. She eats, breathes and sleeps that place. She broke off her third engagement because the guy asked her to take one weekend a month off work.”

I hold up my drink glass for a refill.

“What does Chris say about all of this?” Lucy asks, ordering a cup of herbal tea when Elizabeth brings me a new drink.

Good question. “I tried to call him, but he’s not answering his phones. Maybe I’ll run by his office….”

Lucy’s hazel eyes pop wide and her gaze is fixed on something behind me. “Oh, no, don’t look.”

Of course, I look. There’s Chris, finally, dashing into the restaurant. Now the sun is shining. I lift my hand to woo-hoo him over to our table, but he’s with a petite, smiley, bleached blonde wearing low riders and platform shoes. The two of them are wet and laughing.

“Who is she?” I wonder out loud.

“Not his sister,” Lucy mutters out of the corner of her pinched lips, and points out how snugly his hand is resting on her hip.

“Maybe a friend?” I pretend the slicing pain in my chest is indigestion. His hand is not that snug on her hip. Not really.

“Oh, for crying out loud, Macy, get a clue. I told you not to eat this junk. It’s decaying your brain.” Lucy shoves me out of my seat. “Go see what he’s up to.”

“Chris?” I bellow without considering where I might take this scene.

“Macy.” He jumps away from the blonde as if he’s been bitten by a dog—that would be me, I guess.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Early lunch.” I cross my arms, glaring at him, studying her.

With a confused look on his face, he asks, “Did we have plans for today?”

Obviously neither of us is paying much attention to this relationship. “I tried to call you,” I say, arms still crossed, eyes still fixed on this cozy couple.

“I’ve been out all morning.”

“I guess so.” I smile at the blonde.

Chris fumbles forward. “This is Kate Winters. Kate, um, this is, um…”

“Macy Moore.” The buffoon forgot my name. If we weren’t in public I’d kick him in the knee, then the other knee.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Kate offers her hand.

She seems innocent enough. Intuition tells me if I want the truth about this situation, she’s my best bet.

With a faux chuckle I commence my investigation. “You two work together?”

Kate laughs. “Oh, no. I just moved into my new apartment and Chris is helping me furniture shop.” She smiles all too sweetly. “He loves double cheeseburgers, so we came here for lunch.”

Of course he loves double cheeseburgers. Odd that she would know that. “So, you two know each other from where?”

Giddy Kate jumps right in with an explanation. “I’m a graduate student at Florida Tech. Chris was my economics adjunct professor last term.”

“How about that?” I give Chris a look.

Kate continues, beaming. “I didn’t have classes today, so Chris took the day off to be with me.”

Ah, it’s becoming clear. Yes, crystal clear. Chris is cheating on me. Or cheating on Kate, I don’t know which. I decide to out him.

“Kate, for the last six months I’ve been Chris’s girlfriend. At least I was until about five minutes ago.”

“Chris?” Kate stares up at him. Oh brother, I think she’s going to cry.

Chris goes into weasel mode. “Kate, Macy, I…”

All at once Lucy is beside me, jerking me toward the door. “Come on, Macy. He’s not worth the effort.” She hands me my soda, refilled. Drops my coat onto my shoulders and slips my purse onto my arm.

“Six months, Chris. Wasted.” What a rotten, weaseling, two-timing scoundrel. I stop at the door and offer Kate a word of advice. “Runnnn!”

Lucy pushes me into a nippy February drizzle.

“What is going on?” I gaze heavenward, arms raised. The dissipating rain sprinkles me. “Lord, hello. It’s me, Macy Moore, Your friend. What are You doing to me?”

Lucy shushes me. “People are staring.”

“Let them stare.” I flail my arms about, the contents of my cup sloshing over.

“Macy, really.” Lucy grabs at me, indignant.

“What was I thinking, Lucy? Chris Wright. Ha! More like Chris Wrong,” I shout toward the restaurant, hoping he’ll hear me. “Did you see her? Him with her?”

“Yes, I saw.”

How did I not see this coming? Grad student, indeed.

“That’s what I get for dating a man who likes to play with other people’s money. Nothing is sacred to him.” Like the mature woman I am, I kick a newspaper stand and nick my fancy boots.

“Macy, please, gather yourself.”

“Gather myself? Lucy, my career has tanked, my boyfriend is…I don’t know…dating another woman and this…drink…is watery.” I head for my car, flinging the drink into the nearest trash can, and wipe my chilled hand on the sleeve of my coat.