I snatch another cookie. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re on his side?”
“I’m on your side,” she says. “But I think that means I’m also on his side. Apart from the occasional stress-induced freak out as you’ve learned to trust him, you’ve been happier in the past three weeks than I’ve ever seen you. Ever, Maddie. Even back when we were kids with nothing to worry about except whether or not we’d get our silver Girl Scout award.”
“That was stressful. I really wanted that award. It was going to be the completion of my Cadette Journey.”
She smiles gently. “I know you did. But I think you want a future with Jamison more. And honestly, Maddie, he’s done nothing to deserve being dumped, has he? Did he ever tell you that the woman he was into before you wasn’t married?”
“No.” I hesitate, wondering why I still feel like I’ve been lied to. “But he should have told me the truth. I feel like he deliberately withheld the fact that Wendy was married because he knew it would upset me.”
“Maybe he did but is that really a deal breaker?” She collects her mug from the ground. “I think you should at least give him a chance to explain.”
“You’re awfully into talking things out lately,” I grumble.
She laughs. “Guess I’ve had too much therapy.” She takes a sip of tea, her blue eyes twinkling over the rim of her mug. “Maybe you should just fly to San Francisco, track down Craig, and pound his face. Maybe that’s all you need to move on without any of the been-cheated-on baggage.”
I roll my eyes, unable to resist the grin tugging at my lips. “Geez, can you imagine? Me and Craig throwing punches?”
She giggles. “I can, actually. I think you could hold your own, especially if we get a little whiskey in you first.”
I sigh, deflating again. “No more whiskey for me. That’s what got me into this mess in the first place.” I grab another cookie because it’s okay to eat as many cookies as you want when your heart is bruised. “Besides, I don’t want to pound Craig. If I’m honest, Serge is the one I’m still upset with. He’s the one who promised to love me and then lied to me and used me like a security blanket until he was strong enough to come out, all while my fertility wasted away and my dreams of having a family were put in jeopardy.”
“You realize you just proved my argument from a second ago, right?” she says. “The one where I said Jamison wasn’t the one who deserved the backlash?”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You should have been a lawyer, not an art teacher.”
She presses a dramatic hand to her chest. “But then I would have missed all the excitement of barely making enough money to scrape by and learning twenty different ways to make a three-dollar pasta dinner. And where’s the fun in that?”
“You make a great three-dollar pasta dinner.” I smile. “I’m so glad you’re going to be close from now on.”
“Me too,” she says. “That way you can come talk some sense into me when I try to dump the amazing new guy I’ve met after we hit our first bump in the road.”
“Have you met someone? Already?” I ask, excited for her even though I’m not the biggest fan of relationships in general at the moment.
She snorts. “Are you kidding me? I haven’t had the chance to do anything but organize my materials for class, run the kids to and from school, unpack a few boxes, and try to figure out how to buy groceries and entertain the children until my first paycheck.”
“Do you need a loan?” I ask, feeling awful that I didn’t ask earlier. Moves are expensive and Dawn barely had any time to save up for hers. “It’s no problem if you do. I’ve saved a ton of money living above the bakery. And at my parents’ place before that.”
She shakes her head with a smile. “Thanks, but we’re doing okay. I’m going to put off getting cable for a month or two to save money and we’ll be fine. It’ll be good for the kids. They can catch up on their reading. And I’m going to get my old bike fixed so I can ride with them in the park around the corner. We’ll probably enjoy it so much they’ll never want to watch cartoons again.”
I grunt. “Right. Marshall’s over his SpongeBob addiction?”
“I wish.” She glances heavenward. “Is that damned sponge ever going to go away? I swear, that crap started when I was in high school. I remember Dave watching it and giggling his head off when we used to smoke pot in the basement at his parents’ house.” She rolls her eyes. “Should have told me something about him right there.”