On Second Thought(63)

“To avoid becoming bitter alcoholics?” Jonathan suggested.

“Who’s bitter?” Henry said. “A pi?a colada would taste great right now. And if things go south, we know where to find AA.”

*

Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in Cambry Burgers & Beer. I’d suggested Hudson’s, which was closer, but Jonathan grimly insisted on this place, which was lively and fun (surprising, because Jonathan had picked it.)

We ordered drinks and appetizers and exchanged the usual getting-to-know-you chitchat. Except Jonathan, who already knew me, of course.

“So I went on my fifteenth first date this weekend,” Marley said (I’d ridden with them and figured out who was who on the ride over). She had an inch of gray roots showing and cracked her knuckles as she spoke. “He won’t call. I’m surprised he even made it through the entire drink.”

“What did you wear?” I asked.

“Does it matter?” Jonathan said.

I turned to him. “Yes. It’s all about first impressions, Mr. Kent.” I looked back at Marley. “I would love to give you a makeover.”

“I’ve been asking her to let me do the same thing for a year,” Carly said.

“So I can get a pair of these, Barbie? No, thanks,” she said, jabbing Carly fondly.

“Maybe we could do mutual makeovers,” I suggested. “All us women style each other.”

“Except you, Ainsley, you’re adorable. I wouldn’t change a hair,” Marley said. She chugged half her margarita. “You really think you could help me? I’m old, honey. I’m fifty-four.”

“That’s not old, and sure!” I said. “I love clothes. And makeup. And shoes.”

“That would be fun,” said Henry. “I’m a hairdresser. I’d love to have at you both. Not you, darling, you’re perfect,” he added, adjusting a strand of my hair. “Though a streak of gray would be very on fleek.”

“I’ve thought about it,” I said, smiling at him. “So on this first date, Marley, did you talk about your divorce?”

“Of course. He has to know what I’ve been through.”

“Ah, that’s a no-no. My mom is Dr. Lovely, the advice columnist. She just wrote about this.”

“Really? I love her! I read her online every day! No wonder you know so much.”

I smiled, oddly proud of Candy.

Jonathan stared fixedly at a point past my head. Carly detailed a wretched first date she’d had with a ninety-one-year-old man who’d lied about his age by three decades, and Henry told us he wasn’t quite ready to put himself out there just yet.

I did wonder about Jonathan. I’d seen him on that date the night Eric dumped me. And I was dying to know what my stick-up-the-colon boss did in his spare time. Taxidermy seemed about right.

“Okay,” Marley said after we’d put a dent in the appetizers. “We actually do talk about divorce stuff, Ainsley, so let’s get down to business. Everything’s confidential, okay? That’s one of our rules.”

“Nothing is confidential, since we’re in a public place. Anyone could overhear us,” Jonathan said.

“Who wants to go first?” Carly asked. “How about you, Ainsley? Since you’re new?”

I had just taken a bite of a very delicious slab of quesadilla, but I nodded and chewed, held up my finger and chewed some more. “Well,” I said finally, “my boyfriend seems to have had some kind of nervous breakdown or something. The man I love is not the man who’s doing all this. But all this is being done just the same, you know? So how do you reconcile that? I mean, I want to get back together with him. How long do I put up with this? And how do I forgive him? And when do you think he’ll snap out of it? He really was the best boyfriend ever.”

Three sad, sympathetic faces looked back at me. Jonathan rolled his eyes. “Oh, save your contempt, Jonathan,” I said. “You didn’t know him before cancer. He was great before cancer.”

“He was your only boyfriend, isn’t that right?” Jonathan asked.

“Yeah. So?” I was a little surprised Jonathan knew this.

“So you have no point of comparison.”

“I didn’t need one,” I said.

“I told myself the same thing,” Henry said. “That Kathy was going through a midlife crisis, that she wasn’t herself and that we could get back to the way things were. Hasn’t happened, and the truth is, I’m starting to feel...happy. Like I’m free from all the expectations of our life together and can start to be the real me.”

Hairdresser, pi?a colada, free to be the real me. Yep. Henry would be marching in the gay pride parade next spring. Maybe Deshawn and he could hook up. The old opposites attract thing.

Carly talked about how her ex never spent any time with their kids, just kept sending checks, and how the kids’ resentment was aimed at her. Henry commiserated, saying how much he missed being in the same house with his sons every night. Marley was going to be an empty nester this fall and was dreading it. “It feels like the world is going to end, and I have to sit there and pretend to be happy about it,” she said. Henry handed her a napkin so she could blot her eyes.

I wondered if I knew someone for Marley. She seemed awfully nice. I’d visit Gram-Gram and check out the younger residents. She might like being a trophy wife.