“I know that’s what you said, but you’ve always been a sucker for a man with an accent.”
“Since when?”
“Since Balki on Perfect Strangers.”
“The sitcom?”
“Yep, you were mad for Balki all because he had that accent. No matter that he was a loser who lived with his cousin.”
“No, I was mad for Bronson Pinchot. Not Balki.” She laughed. “And that same year, you were mad for Tom Cruise. How many times do you think we saw Top Gun?”
“At least twenty.” Caroline took a drink of her wine. “Even back then you were attracted to losers.”
“I call it having realistic expectations.”
“More like
selling yourself short because you have typical abandonment issues.”
“Are you high?”
Caroline shook her head and her ponytail brushed her shoulders. “No, I read all about it in a magazine while I was in my gynecologist’s office last week. Because your mother died, you’re afraid everyone you love will leave you.”
“Which just goes to show, there’s a lot of made-up crap in magazines.” And she should know. “Just last week you told me I had issues with leaving a relationship because I have a fear of getting dumped. Make up your mind.”
Caroline shrugged. “Obviously it’s all the same issue.”
“Right.”
They watched the fireplace for a few more minutes, then Caroline suggested, “Let’s go out.”
“It’s Thursday night.”
“I know, but neither of us has to work tomorrow.”
Maybe a night of blowing out her ears with a garage band was just what she needed to take her mind off the hockey game she should have been covering but wasn’t. Get her out of the apartment so she couldn’t turn on the television and surf past the game. She looked down at her green T-shirt, black fleece, and jeans. She also needed new material for her Single Girl column. “Okay, but I’m not changing.”
Caroline, who’d dressed down tonight in a Tommy sweater with a flag on the chest and butt-tight jeans, looked at Jane and rolled her eyes. “At least put your contacts in.”
“Why?”
“Well, I didn’t want to say anything because I love you and all, and because I’m always telling you what to wear and I didn’t want you to feel self-conscious and have bad self-esteem, but those horrid people at Eye Care lied to you.”
Jane didn’t think her glasses were that bad. Lisa Loeb had a pair just like them. “Are you sure they don’t look good on me?”
“Yes, and I’m only telling you this because I don’t want people to think I’m the girl and you’re the boy.”
Not Caroline too? “What makes you think people would assume you’re the girl and I’m the boy?” she asked as she got up and moved into the bathroom. “It’s possible that people would think you’re the boy.” There was silence from the other room and she stuck her head around the door. “Well?”
Caroline stood at the fireplace applying red lipstick in front of the mirror hanging above the mantel “Well, what?” She replaced the lipstick in her cute little handbag.
“Well, what makes you think people would assume you’re the girl and I’m the boy?” she asked again.
“Oh, was that a real question? I thought you were trying to be funny.”
* * *
The next morning at nine o’clock, Jane’s telephone rang. It was Leonard phoning to tell her that he and Virgil and the Chinooks management had reconsidered their “hasty decision.” They wanted her to resume her job ASAP. Which meant they wanted her in the press box for tomorrow night’s game against St. Louis. She was so shocked, she could only lie in her bed and listen to Leonard’s complete about-face.