But maybe they all managed to seem that way on spec—by hiding whatever galling habits they have that will drive you to move wine o’clock to three p.m. on a Tuesday. She tried to imagine what sort of awful things Aaron would do, but she couldn’t come up with anything nefarious, other than his lack of table manners. He probably made himself late-night snacks and left the mess for his ex-wife, who Jess imagined would be an early riser who loved to catch the sunrise every day. After years of that sort of thing, a woman could snap. She should know. Winnie and Noah left huge messes of course, but they werechildren.
The vacuum shut off and Jess strained her ears to try to determine what her mom was up to now. Which of the thousand things that needed doing (and that her husband and kids should be able to handle) were getting done? She picked up the mug and held it in both hands, warming them, then realized that it was Thursday, which meant the heat was scheduled at a lower temperature because she was normally at the shop. She’d ask her mom to turn it up when she came up to check on her.
Thank God for moms. When she got back to writing in her gratitude journal, she was going to write that in huge bold letters. THANK GOD FOR MY MOM. She might even use one page per word. Or, better still, per letter. Surely her mom was worth sixteen pages of her gratitude journal.
After a few sips of tea, she put the mug down and picked her tablet up again. She opened Aaron’s LinkedIn profile and wrote him a quick message, her heart rate picking up a bit.
It was lovely to meet you yesterday. Thank you for your kindness. Lunch was the best part of my day. ~ Jess
Jess, not Jessica. It was her little way of saying they weren’t strangers anymore. She stared at the message and bit her lip. Maybe she shouldn’t send it. Or, maybe she should. After all, isn’t cultivating friendships good for the soul? There was nothing flirty about it. Except maybe calling herself Jess.
But there she was, over-thinking things again. She pressed send without adding -ica to her name. Her stomach did a little flip. Had she just crossed the line? Surely not. Wasn’t it perfectly acceptable to have a male friend? It was the twenty-first century, after all.
Her phone rang immediately, causing her to jump a little (another thing she shouldn’t do). It was Diana.
“Hey you,” Jessica answered.
“Did you get any sleep?” Diana asked.
“Here and there,” she answered.
“You poor thing. I have PTSD, and I only had tohearit.”
“You should tell my husband that. Maybe he’d take it a little more seriously,” Jess told her, before launching into a rundown of what had happened from the moment they stepped outside the hospital until his text.
Diana had the appropriate responses, of course. She was sympathetic at the right moments and indignant on her friend’s behalf through the rest of it. In the end, they had agreed that men were only capable of so much, as in so much less than women hoped.
“Now, onto the big question,” Diana said, with a dramatic pause. That was one of the things Jess loved about her—her ability to make everything feel more exciting than it was. “Have you decided whether or not you’ll tell him about your lunch with the lawyer?”
“Not yet. I’m so angry, I wouldn’t tell him if his hair was on fire.”
“I hear that,” Diana said. “Have you heard from your lunch companion?”
“No,” Jessica said, trying to decide whether or not to tell Diana about the message she just sent. Diana already knew most of it so she might as well tell her the rest. “But I did send him a thank you note on LinkedIn.”
“Really?” Diana’s tone wasn’t one Jessica could easily decipher. Was it disapproving? Or was her own sense of monogamy making her hear it that way?
“It felt appropriate. He really didn’t have to do that.”
“Wow.” So, shewasdisapproving.
“I’m not about to start an affair, if that’s what you think.”
“But secretly, youarehoping to talk to him again.” It was a statement, not a question. A fact.
In the hall, she could hear her mom’s footsteps. A second later, she saw her walk by carrying a basket of laundry, and a flash of guilt hit Jess. Here she was lounging in bed chatting while her mother was hauling a heavy basket up the stairs.
“No, I just wanted to thank him for his kindness. He really went above and beyond what anyone would expect a person to do in that situation.”
“Well, that’s fine, but if you wind up turning this whole thing into some sort of friendship, you really have to tell Mike.”
“I’ll be sure to tell him as soon as I’m talking to him again.”
“My poor friend. The last thing you needed yesterday was a fight.”
“Right?”
“I better go. I have a bunch of running around to do and I promised Parker I’d pick up the supplies for his science fair project.”
