“Stop it. You have an important job.”
“No, I really don’t. It’s inconsequential and trivial in the big scheme of things. I’m paid to lie! It’s so juvenile, it’s embarrassing.”
“Dani, you guys are divorced. He’s going to date. He’s going to probably get serious with someone else and she will meet the boys, and who knows, you might even like her.”
I can’t handle any of this.
“Lars is gay. Isn’t that weird?”
“Really? Well, I guess now there’s no question that you weren’t cheating.”
“Did you think I was?” I say.
“Not really.”
I’m offended that she had even a small doubt. “I have to go. I need to wash the sex sheets. I know he’s going to date, Lish. I just didn’t want him to do it here.”
“Be clear with him, but don’t berate him. Call me tomorrow.”
I hang up and open Facebook on my computer to find two new messages. Both are from Jacob Powell.
Jacob: Hey, Dani! How are you? You look great! I see Alicia and Mark once in a while. Hope you’re doing well.
A few days later, he wrote again.
Jacob: I saw Alicia today. Sorry to hear about the divorce. Feel free to call or text anytime if you need an ear or shoulder.
That’s not exactly what I need right now, but I’m sure he’s flexible. He’s attached his contact info, so I text him before I can give myself a moment to hesitate.
Me: Hi, Jacob. Thanks for the message on FB. Shot in the dark, but care to get a drink?
He replies almost instantly.
Jacob: Yeah, definitely. Tonight?
Me: Why not?
Jacob: Want to meet me on the Westside? I’m about to jump in the water to surf for a bit.
I haven’t even seen him yet and I already want to lick salt water off his chest. It’s been a while.
Me: Sounds good. 5 pm? Water Grill?
Jacob: It’s gonna be a nice sunset. See you at 5.
What just happened? That was too easy. I’m already nervous. I contemplate calling Alicia, but I don’t want her to know.
Despite the nerves, I have a new jolt of energy.
—
I’m running twenty minutes late, but that’s normal for me. I texted Jacob, letting him know, and he said he was sitting at the bar. I’m relieved. I don’t want to have a romantic dinner with him, don’t want to sit and stare at him from the other side of a little quaint table overlooking the ocean. This is just a drink. No different than a friend or colleague.
As I speed down the street, I think about the day Jacob broke up with me so many years ago. He told me I was too serious, and we were too young. He said he liked me so much that it scared him because he wasn’t ready to settle down. I thought abouthim for years after that, even after I had started dating Alex. I was heartbroken because the relationship with Jacob was meaningful to me and he’d acted the same way in the beginning. But in the end, he didn’t really care. It made him seem duplicitous. He seemed madly in love one day but had no problem breaking up with me the next. We never talked again after we split. It’s been a gazillion years.
I walk into the restaurant and head for the bar. Even from behind, I recognize him. He looks the same.
“Jacob?”
