“Funny,” I say.
“Do you remember the last time you thought things were getting serious with Jacob? Because I sure do.”
“That’s different. We were young,” I say.
“He’s not different though,” she says.
I gesture for the server. “Can I get another mimosa?”
“Just bring a bottle,” Alicia says.
“I don’t want to get drunk.”
I feel a pit in my stomach like I’ve been caught sneaking out of the house by my parents.
“We’re not going to be drunk after splitting one bottle of champagne,” she sneers. “But for the record, I know why you’re even trying to stay sober right now.”
“Because my car is here,” I lie.
“Okay.” She rolls her eyes.
“Alicia, the last three years of my life have been terrible. I’ve been horribly lonely and depressed. I’m finally feeling good—”
“You definitely look good, but that’s not really the point. I’m worried about you getting hurt, that’s all.”
“He, like, really likes me.”
“He, like, really likes cheeseburgers and puppies and sunshine. The guy likeseverything. He’s a happy-go-lucky, noncommittal man-child. You are a relationship addict and this was easy because you knew him. He’snotlooking at this the way you are.”
“I think he is. I’m having dinner with him tonight.” Even though I know there is a small truth to what Alicia is saying, I’m not listening. Jacob is into me. When we’re together he seems enamored by me. He tells me I’m beautiful and successful and he makes me feel like a person, not a wife, not a mother. I’m getting tipsy. I’m having an early dinner with Jacob at five, so I feel like I need to rein it in and calm down. “Let’s get some food,” I say.
“Fine.”
We order, talk about the overpriced menu, and then the conversation shifts back to dating.
“Why don’t you date around? Instead of hanging out with an old flame?” she says.
“I don’t think you understand, Alicia. All of my friends, except for you, are mommy friends. Either from baseball, elementary school…the freakin’ church I went to that one time…”
“Yeah, that was weird when you did that.” She laughs through her nose.
“It was for the boys,” I say. “The fact is, I don’t have people to go out with. You’re married not only to Mark but to your job…and all those other women, I have nothing in common with them, other than the fact that we all have kids.”
“I meant go on a dating app. Date a whole bunch of different people. That’s what I would do.”
“That’s what every married person says.”
“Now you’re an expert on being single?”
I attempt to pour champagne out of the empty bottle. Three drops go in my glass. “That was fast.”
“We’ll take another,” Alicia says to our passing server.
He arches his eyebrows. “Erm…okay.”
“No, Alicia.”
I reach out, waving him off. She swats at my hand. “Who cares, it’s Sunday brunch.”
