The way things were going, Micky just wanted a quiet weekend at home. She had a job during the week now. She had to rest on Saturdays and Sundays. She didn’t need all this innuendo and these friendly expectations. She would focus on the two most important people in her life: Olivia and Christopher.
“Yes, well, we’ll work on our friendship the weekend after,” she said firmly, then made to get up.
Robin grabbed her by the wrist and looked up at her. “Hey, have I done anything to upset you?”
Yes, Micky wanted to scream. You rocked my world and then… And then what? She couldn’t fault Robin for a lack of honesty and transparency. It was her own feelings Micky had to deal with. Right now, faced with what felt like another rejection, Micky felt a ridiculous kind of anger stir in the pit of her stomach. Who did Robin think she was? Turning her on like that—basically changing her life—and then waltzing in here with a friendly smile on her face, casually asking about Martha as though what happened between them had no consequences for her whatsoever?
“No. I’ll text you,” Micky said. “I need to get back to work. Josephine’s being swamped.” They both looked at the counter where Josephine was cheerily chatting with Mark, one of the regulars. There was no queue.
“Okay.” Robin let go of Micky’s wrist and rose. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
✶ ✶ ✶
“So you want to be friends with Martha and more than friends with Robin, but the way things are presenting themselves, they both want the opposite,” Amber said.
Micky hadn’t contacted Martha or Robin. Instead, while Christopher had decided to go to the beach to teach his new friend Liam how to surf and Olivia was hanging out with April, Micky sat on her tiny front porch with Amber, drinking a green juice.
“I don’t know exactly what they want. I can only be sure of what I want.” After seeing Robin at The Pink Bean for two subsequent days since their conversation on Wednesday, Micky had no doubts about what she wanted. She’d never had any, really.
“This Martha seems interesting, though. She sounds emotionally available, and she won’t be leaving Australia any time soon,” Amber said. “Two factors that can’t be underestimated.”
“I know, but we’ve only just met, and well, I can’t get Robin out of my head.” Today of all days, Micky wished Amber was the sort of person who brought over a bottle of wine instead of juice when she visited her best friend at home.
“That might be so, but I sense an opportunity here. Just for the record, I’m absolutely not suggesting you be dishonest with anyone, but I can see a possible happy ending here.”
“Oh yeah?” Micky made no effort to keep the skepticism out of her voice.
“First of all, be upfront with both of them. You tell Robin you can’t be friends with her, and you tell Martha you’re still hung up on someone else but you’re willing to go on a date with her. The worst that can happen is that you and Martha don’t have that spark, but you stand to gain a genuine friend and learn from her along the way.”
Though Amber’s logic was, theoretically, irrefutable, she was missing the input of a large variable in her reasoning. “So, basically, what you’re saying is ‘Fuck Robin.’”
“I guess that is what I’m saying. She’s not going to help you evolve, Micky. If anything, she’ll stunt your growth as a person—as a lesbian. I know the sex was spectacular and all that, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be that way with anyone else. She was a good… starter woman for you. Made you realize a few things about yourself you were on the cusp of realizing anyway, but now you need to move on. Ultimately, she won’t be able to give you what you want. We both know that. There’s no use beating about the bush.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” Micky felt like pouting.
“No, it’s not easy for me to say at all. I’d much rather be telling you something you want to hear, but I wouldn’t be a good friend if I did only that.”
“I just don’t know how to forget about Robin.”
“It will take some time, most likely, but you need to tell her. Be honest. Tell her it’s impossible for you to be friends with her because you’ll always be hoping for more.”
“Why must you be so logically gifted?”
Amber shrugged. “You know me, always better at giving advice to my friends than working on my own love life.”
“How about, instead of going out with Martha on my own, I have a dinner party here next week, with you, Sheryl and Kristin, and her?”