“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, piña 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.
“What about you, Jonathan?” Carly asked, leaning forward to flash a few inches of cleavage. “Last week, you said... How did you put it? There was someone you thought you had feelings for, remember? But it was difficult?”
Thought he had feelings for. The man was Mr. Spock. What are these emotions I’m experiencing? Let me do a brain scan and analyze the results. I bet it was the woman he’d been with on that date. She’d seemed nice. Nicer than he was.
“I’d rather not discuss it,” he said. “Ainsley is my employee, and I’m not comfortable sharing details of my personal life with her.”
“But she’s so nice,” Marley said. Aw. “Maybe she could help you. And Dr. Lovely is her mother.”
“Well, stepmother,” I said. “Jonathan knows her, too. She writes for his magazine.”
“Of course, of course.”
I shifted to see my boss better. “I am pretty good with that kind of thing. Maybe I could help you.”
“You couldn’t.”
“I bet I could.”
“While I admire your confidence, no, thank you.”
“I see. You’re chicken.”
He sighed. “No, Ainsley, it’s not that. It’s that I have two children to consider.”
“I use that excuse, too,” Henry said.
“And second, I don’t think you’re in a position to offer relationship advice. Forgive me if that sounded rude.”
“It is rude. Just own it,” I said. “Was it that woman from Le Monde? Points to you for taking her somewhere nice.”
“So you’ve already been on a date with her?” Marley said. “What about a second date? Is that when people typically have sex?”
He closed his eyes. “As I said, I’m not comfortable discuss—”
“Send flowers,” Carly suggested. “Every woman loves flowers.”
“Nah,” I said. “That’s for later in the relationship. First he has to show her he has what she wants. What all women want.”
“A lot of money?” Carly suggested.
“No, no. Though it never hurts.”
“And what do all women want, in your vast experience?” Jonathan said.
“Honesty.” I sat back, proud of the answer.
“Oh, good one,” Carly said. “My ex had an entire apartment in Manhattan I didn’t even know about. But since we’re a fifty-fifty state, he had to buy me out, so I got the girls done—” she pointed proudly to her bosom, which was big enough to hold a generous plate of pasta “—had a little refreshing done and took my sisters to France for a month. Oh, that made him mad!” She smiled fondly.
“Sense of humor is another one,” I said. Poor Jonathan. I might as well have said grow sparkly wings. “Being open to new things.” Pause for laughter. “And kindness, that’s the most important.”
Trying to save Nathan’s life...that had been kind. Or a reflex. But he’d stayed at the hospital. That had been very decent of him.
“It’s the little things,” I went on. “Holding doors and such. Let her talk and pretend to pay attention.”
“Pretend? That’s your advice? How fascinating.”
“See?” I said. “You’re doing it already.”
“I still say you can’t go wrong with flowers,” Carly said. “Or just whisk her off to the city for dinner. Shock and awe, razzle and dazzle.”
The others continued with their suggestions. Buy her a puppy, send her secret notes, flirt with her (like he could pull that off).
“I appreciate your suggestions,” he said. “Perhaps we can move on.”
“Did anyone ever tell you you talk like you’re on Downton Abbey?” I asked, smiling at him.
“Not until just now.”
“You do. You have a very formal way of talking.”
He blinked at me, clearly pained.