Page 66 of Sex and the City

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“Hey baby, guess what?” Mr. Big said. “Tyler’s invited us to go snowmobiling. Then we’re going to go to his house and race go-carts.”

“Go-carts?” Carrie said.

“I’ve got a frozen lake on my property.”

“Isn’t that great?” Mr. Big said.

“Yeah,” Carrie said. “Great.”

That night, Carrie and Mr. Big had dinner with Stanford and Suzannah. All through the dinner, whenever Suzannah said anything, Stanford would lean over and say, “Isn’t she just terrific?” He held her hand, and she said, “Oh Stanford. You’re such a dope,” and laughed and removed her hand to lift her wineglass.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally come over to the other side,” Mr. Big said.

“Who said anything about that?” Suzannah said.

“I’ll always be a queen, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Stanford said.

Carrie went outside to smoke a cigarette. A woman came up to her. “Can I have a light?” she said. And it turned out the woman was Brigid. The obnoxious woman from the bridal shower last summer.

“Carrie?” she said. “Is that you?”

“Brigid!” Carrie said. “What are you doing here?”

“Skiing,” Brigid said. And then, glancing around as if she were afraid of being overheard, she said, “With my husband. And no kids. We left the kids at my mother’s house.”

“Weren’t you, um, pregnant?” Carrie asked.

“Miscarriage,” Brigid said. She glanced around again. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have an extra cigarette in addition to that match, would you?”

“Sure,” Carrie said.

“I haven’t smoked for years. Years. But I need this.” She inhaled deeply. “When I used to smoke, I only smoked Marlboro Reds.”

Carrie gave her an evil smile. “Of course you did.” She dropped her cigarette on the sidewalk and mashed it with her boot.

“Can you keep a secret?” Brigid asked.

“Yeah . . .,” Carrie said.

“Well.” Brigid took another deep drag and blew the smoke out her nose. “I didn’t go home last night.”

“Uh huh,” Carrie said, thinking, Why are you telling me this?

“No. I mean, I didn’t go home.”

“Oh,” Carrie said.

“That’s right. I didn’t spend the night with my husband. I stayed out all night. I slept, I actually spent the night, in Snowmass.”

“I see,” Carrie said, nodding. “Were you, uh, you know. Doing drugs?”

“Nooooo,” Brigid said. “I was with a guy. Not my husband.”

“You mean you . . .”

“Yes. I slept with another guy.”

“That’s amazing,” Carrie said. She lit another cigarette.


Tags: Candace Bushnell Fiction