A Different Kind of Forever(55)

“Ah. The mythical Girls Night Out. What is it you all do together, anyway?”

“Well, we’re currently plotting to take over the world by manipulating the stock market to resurrect all the tech stocks, which we’ve been secretly buying up all year long. Then we’ll sacrifice a couple of chickens, and drink and dance naked around a statue of Simone de Beauvoir.”

Michael raised his eyebrows and nodded. “That’s what I would have guessed.”

Diane smiled. “We’ll go to Maxwell’s, probably. We can walk there, so we can all drink, and we’ll probably dance, but with our clothes on.”

“What a disappointment.”

“Then we’ll sit around and drink some more and talk about our kids and our jobs and complain about men.”

“Complain about men?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s inevitable.”

“God. You all are going to crucify me, right?”

“No.” Diane patted his hand. “You’re the new guy. I promise we’ll be very kind to you.”

“Gee thanks. I like your friend Sharon, but I would not want to be on her bad side.”

“Don’t worry. She likes you too. She thinks you’re cute. And besides, you told her you could get her Lyle Lovett’s autograph.”

“Oh, I did, didn’t I? I’d better not forget. I’ll call him this week.”

“You’d better, ‘cause you’re right about Sharon. You don’t want to get on her bad side.”



There were five of them, sitting at an outside table at Maxwell’s, waiting for the band to start playing again. They had met at Sharon’s and walked the six blocks, and were all feeling no pain. Ginny Smith, the youngest of the group at 36, was pouring margaritas from a pitcher. Carol Coopersmith, divorced and always on the look-out, had been flirting with the waiter. Sharon had a fight with Richie before leaving and was feeling feisty. Sue and Diane had been giggling all night.

They had spent the first part of the evening catching up, comparing vacations, the kids, and the heat. When the band had started playing, they all got up on the dance floor. Maxwell’s was a popular spot with all ages, and they were not the oldest people dancing. During the seven or eight songs that played, Diane was asked to dance by three different men. She declined the offers. When the set had ended, and they were back at the table, Diane gulped another drink.

“Okay,” she announced loudly, “I have been coming here for years without incident, and tonight I get hit on three different times.” She looked around the table. “I need somebody to explain this to me.”

Carol Coopersmith leaned forward. She was very attractive, sleek blonde hair, tall and thin, brilliant blue eyes. She pointed a perfectly manicured finger.

“I have a theory,” she said. “It’s because you’re in love.”

Diane blinked as all four women looked at her. “What?”

Carol nodded. “You know how, in nature, when a female is ready to mate, she sends out something, a phoneme or something-“

“Pheromone,” Sue corrected.

“Thank you. So anyway, the female sends out this pheromone thing and every male in the neighborhood knows she’s ready for sex and comes a-calling. Well, I think it happens to us. When a woman is in love, and knows she’s going to go home and have great sex, she sends out her own little pheromone and every guy in the room smells it, and figures he might be able to get a first crack. That’s why women who aren’t dating never get approached. But women in a hot relationship are like magnets.” Carol shrugged and took a drink. “And that’s my theory.”

Diane looked around the table. Sue and Sharon were grinning. Ginny raised an eyebrow.

“Are you?” Ginny asked.

“Am I what?” Diane sputtered.

“Going home and having great sex?” Ginny kept a straight face, but Sue was starting to giggle.

“Of course she is,” Carol announced. “We all know who she’s been seeing. How could she not? Besides, what do you think they do together? Play chess?”

Diane was annoyed. “Now, wait a minute, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Carol shrugged innocently. “Listen, Diane, I say more power to you. If you can keep somebody like him waiting up for you, that’s great. But don’t try to tell us there’s actually something going on aside from sex. He’s what, not even thirty? What else could you have in common with him?”