Bad Mommy(20)

“I’ll have to take my sister,” I said. “To the Needle. She’d like that.”

“We had dinner up there,” said Darius. “The restaurant spins.” He made a circle motion with his finger and whistled. Such a dork. They were that couple who were always doing something.

“How did you two meet?” I asked Jolene when there was a break in conversation. She automatically reached for the wine and refilled her glass. Wow. Telling.

“Well,” she said, shooting her husband a look. “We knew each other through a friend. We didn’t start dating until they broke up and we ran into each other at a concert a year later.”

“Um … are you still friends with her?”

“Dani? No. She didn’t want anything to do with me when she found out.”

Darius cleared his throat while Jolene downed her wine. So much back story I was missing. Dani … Danielle? Dannika? Daniella? I wanted to be able to go home and look her up.

“Well, I guess it all worked out in the end,” I said. “You two are together, and I’d say that trumps friendship, yeah?”

Darius raised his glass to that. Then he leaned forward and said, “I would have left her for Jo five years sooner, but it took a little Hootie and three beers to throw me some courage.”

Jolene slapped him playfully on the arm. “You call staring at me all night courage?” She laughed.

“Yes, you’re really aggressive. I was taking a risk. Besides, you didn’t hesitate when I asked you to lunch.”

“Yes, because it was lunch,” she said. “Lunch is not a date, it’s just two acquaintances catching up. That was your winning move. If you’d asked me to dinner I would have said no.”

Darius clutched his heart like he was hurt.

I’d read somewhere that women who were unhappy in their marriage started noticing the males closest in proximity first—a friend’s husband, a personal trainer, a coworker. When their happiness failed, they fixated on the good qualities of other men, weighing the option that someone else could better meet their needs. During the hard times with George, I fixated on the FedEx guy, a muscular Topher Grace lookalike who always made small talk as I signed for my packages. He never wore a wedding band, and I always fantasized that he would ask me out for coffee one day. We’d meet up at Tin Pin and laugh about how slutty the girls dressed, averting our eyes, and also only having eyes for each other. I found out that his name was Tom, and I noticed that he always stepped aside on the sidewalk to let women pass. A real gentleman. And when he spoke to me he looked me in the eyes, something George hadn’t done in years. Then one day he stopped delivering my packages and was replaced by a dikey middle-aged blonde named Fern. After Tom it was a guy from the gym. We never spoke, but I could feel the tension from across the room as he ran six miles a day on the treadmill. He was as into me as I was into him. I started calling him gym husband in my head. One day I imagined we’d reach for the sani spray at the same time, and we’d laugh and start up a conversation. I’d leave George for him, and though it would be messy, in the end it would all be worth it.

“Fig?”

“What…? Huh?”

They were both looking at me. My bad. I needed to be more alert.

“Dinner,” Jolene said. “It’s ready.”

I followed them into the kitchen.



Tessa arrived with swollen eyes and a hopeful smile plastered to her face. It hurt my heart to know what he’d done to her. And for what? Some slut who hadn’t weathered the storms of life with him like Tessa had? Where was the loyalty? Where were the vows? We’d stalked the little slut online, traded pictures back and forth saying the things that always came with cheating: How could he? And, she’s not even as pretty as you. Do you think he’s bored with me? No, he’s just a pig. Men do these things because it makes them feel big.

I hated him, but I couldn’t say too much. I was careful.

“You’ve lost so much weight!” she said, once we were in the car. “You look great, Figgy.”

I wanted to tell her that she had too, but it seemed more like a reminder than a compliment, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Will I get to meet your new friends? The neighbors you keep talking about?”

“Yes! They want to meet you too,” I told her. I reached out and squeezed her knee. “Whatever you want to do. I want you to see my city. I thought maybe dinner in the Space Needle.”

She nodded. “I’d love that.”

Despite our plans for fun, Tessa spent most of the next three days on the phone with Mike, the big, fat cheater. On the first night I think she woke up half the neighborhood with her screaming. I stumbled out of bed, glancing at the clock. It was three AM. I found her in the living room, pacing around like a wild woman, a bottle of vodka in her hand. I spent the next two hours consoling her on the couch, while she cried into my lap saying how much she loved him. The future was sealed: my sister would return to the cheater. A woman’s heart was an awful curse. She’d take him back, but probably remind him of his failure for the rest of his life. That was the nature of forgiveness. It came with a price.

“I know how you feel about George,” she said softly, as I stroked her hair. “I’ve felt it myself with Mike—the frustration and desperation. But, it’s not that easy to leave. You can’t judge me. George may not have cheated, but you know it’s hard to leave, no matter what.”