“I’ve heard something… I was having lunch at the beach club the other day, and I overheard two women I don’t even know talking. It took me a while to realize it was Darren they were discussing. Apparently he’s been seeing one of the women’s daughter. Someone called Lisa. They described him as a right catch. Did you know?”
That was really forward of Gina. Usually she’d ease into a conversation like this, but it must have been nagging at her, the way she was blurting it out now. And hell no, Micky didn’t know. The last time she’d spoken to Darren, it was to discuss Olivia’s latest dentist appointment and how unhappy she was that she needed braces. They only talked when they had to and when it involved the children, not having much else to say to each other at this stage.
“No.” It was, however, not jealousy Micky felt coursing through her. On the contrary. Despite having dreaded this moment, she could pretty easily—and unexpectedly—conceive of being happy for Darren, though, of course, bringing another person into the kids’ lives would have to be discussed at length. That feeling in her gut, Micky recognized, was the sense that she had failed. That her marriage had failed. That, apart from her two beautiful children, Micky didn’t have that much to show for in life. In fact, all she had was a vague text from another woman on her phone promising a conversation Micky didn’t know how to have. That, and the memory of, quite surely, a night of the very best sex of her life. “I’m sure he’ll fill me in when and if it gets serious,” Micky said.
“I couldn’t keep that from you, love. And I wanted to tell you in person, not over the phone.”
Micky just nodded. “Thanks for telling me.”
Then the kids burst back in, and the moment of impromptu information sharing was over.
Micky could hardly blame Darren for moving on. After all, she’d been trying to do the exact same thing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
That morning, Robin had come into The Pink Bean, requesting her usual drink, at an uncharacteristically busy time. Micky had barely had time to talk to her, even though Robin patiently waited, take-out coffee cup in hand. In between serving customers, they managed to set up a time to talk tonight, at the same bar they’d met at last Tuesday evening.
As soon as Olivia left the house, bag with swimsuit and goggles in hand, her swimming buddy April waiting outside, Micky gently rapped on Christopher’s bedroom door. Of course, he didn’t hear, not even when she intensified the knocking, so she ended up opening up his bedroom door without waiting for a reply—she could have waited for days!
“What?” Christopher said, barely looking up from his screen.
“Did you finish your homework?” Micky always thought she had to ask, even though Christopher got good grades.
“I’m finishing it now.”
“I’m going out for a walk. I won’t be long.”
Then, Christopher looked away from his screen, scanning her face. Micky never went for random walks, but there was a first time for everything.
“I’ve decided to adopt a healthier lifestyle,” she said. “Aunt Amber constantly being on my case about it must be having an effect.” Micky felt like a fool for lying to her son like that. She could have just said she was meeting a friend for a drink. It could be perfectly innocent—except, it wasn’t.
“Okay.” With that, Christopher focused his attention back on whatever fascinating thing he was doing on his laptop.
More guilt settled in the pit of her stomach as Micky checked her reflection in the hallway mirror and went to meet Robin.
✶ ✶ ✶
Just like last time, Robin was already there, an open bottle of wine on the table in front of her.
“I got you a glass already,” Robin said, instead of hello.
“Thanks.” Micky slid onto the high stool, feeling awkward for not having exchanged a peck on the cheek or greeting Robin the way she would greet any other human being. All she could think of, after having been in Robin’s vicinity for mere seconds, was how she wanted to feel her hands all over her body again. How could they have shared such intimacy, and sit here like almost-strangers now?
Robin poured Micky a generous helping of wine, of which Micky took a quick, large gulp.
When Micky set her glass down and looked back up, Robin was smiling broadly at her. “Nervous?” she asked.
“Yeah, I can’t stay long. Liv’s out swimming, but she knows she needs to be home by eight thirty, and Chris thinks I’m out for a walk.”
“Relax.” Robin’s smile persisted.
“I’m sorry. I just feel like I’m… I don’t know. Committing adultery or something.” What was she saying? Micky wasn’t there to discuss the ever-growing sensation of guilt that had lodged itself deep inside of her. She was there to discuss how to become Robin’s friend with benefits. Because, oh, she wanted those benefits.