Page 7 of I Love My Mistake
Chapter Five
A Couple Weeks Later
“He was a complete gentleman for two dates and then on the third one, BOOM. Off came the hatches. Clothes gone. Inhibitions tossed!” Jess leans back in her chair, triumphant, as the server refills her coffee on the way to another table that’s been waiting longer. Jess has got her red hair tied up in a messy bun. We’re all wearing comfy Sunday clothes; bundled up, because it’s cold out. Amber and I are sitting opposite her, as she prefers to face us when she talks, not turn to the side. I don’t care. I’m just glad we’re in chairs and inside. We’ve finally gotten seated at the very packed Café Cluny in the West Village. I’m going to get the poached egg and short rib hash, and my mouth waters just thinking about it. I’m starving. The girls are still undecided, but it doesn’t matter because the server is slammed and won’t be back to take our order for who knows how long.
Brunch is a must-do in Manhattan. Lines form around the block for some of the best places, and it’s worth the wait. Partly because of the delicious food, mostly because of the company. It’s a great way to spend time with your friends, that doesn’t include booze. (Unless you get the mimosa, which – I won’t lie – sometimes we get.)
This is the time when we dish about how our Saturday night went….
“My sex life is dry as a bone,” Amber announces.
…Or how our Saturday night didn’t go.
Both Jess and I look at her, all sympathy and silence. Then Jess wrinkles her nose and asks, “What about that guy, Diego?”
She takes a sip of her coffee and shrugs. “Emphasis on ‘go’. Diego a go go.”
I smile and touch her back, then sit forward and breathe on my own mug, to get the yummy liquid to cool the fuck down. I don’t know how these girls are already drinking theirs. I must have a sensitive tongue. Oh, well I guess lattes aren’t as hot as black coffee with cinnamon in it.
Amber says, “You know what? I don’t think I’m ready to meet anyone serious yet. I mean, if he walked right up to me and said, ‘Hi, I’m your future husband. Can I talk to you a second?’ I’d probably say ‘hell no! Do you know how busy I am? I don’t have time to be cuddling on a couch and watching The Godfather over and over.”
I snort, and lean forward on my elbows. “Why do all men love The Godfather so much?”
“It’s a good movie,” Jess admits, and then adds, “but really… I agree. Why are they so obsessed with it?”
Amber chimes in, “That and Big Lebowski!” We all nod and agree and Amber mumbles, “All men adore The Dude. But really, cut your hair and get your head out of your ass.”
Jess says, “Very few men can rock the long hair.”
I blow on my coffee, thinking of Michael. “Only some can, but when they can… it’s so hot.”
Amber leans back. “True. When Brad Pitt has his hair long, I want to rip his clothes off.”
Jess crinkles her nose. “Not me. He looks like a stoner with it like that. Or a surfer. And surfers aren’t very proactive in their work lives.”
I ball-up a napkin and throw it at her face. “How many surfers do you know, Jess?” I ask, amused.
Jess un-balls the napkin, lays it on her lap, and says, “How’re things at the studio?” like she’s reading my mind. I’m speechless for a second because I think she must be asking about Michael again... but then I remember I’m a painter. She’s just asking about my work. Add becoming paranoid to my long list of flaws.
Amber looks over and takes another sip of her latte, waiting.
“Great. Really great. I’ve being working a lot. Every morning this week, actually.” I don’t add, because Michael is there at night.
Amber yells out, so excited. “Jess! Let’s go there after this today and check out her stuff!”
Jess literally jumps in her seat, and my stomach? It does a cartwheel into nausea-land. I’m scared to have them come over. I don’t want them to see what I’ve been working on… not yet. What if they hate my style? What if I catch disappointment on their faces?
“Oh my God! I love that idea. Love it. Yes. As soon as we’re done.”
“Um… ladies. Aren’t you forgetting something?”
They’re looking at the menus again, all fake innocence and deliberate avoidance.
I run my finger around the rim of my mug, thinking how I can get out of this. I could tell them I’m scared, but they see me as confident and sure of myself in all aspects. I don’t want to fall down in their esteem. I don’t want to be flawed. “I’m not going there today. My partner is going to be there. It’s his time today.” Now that is a damn lie, but they don’t know that.
Amber’s face falls. “Oh no. Awww. Bummer.”
Jess suggests, “Well, then we’d finally get a chance to meet him. You’ve been hiding this guy like he’s some secret you’re keeping from us.” She leans forward like a mystery is afoot and whispers, “He’s not a three-hundred-year-old hunchback magician who’s captured your heart and keeps it a jar… is he?”