No Strings Attached(58)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nerves rattled Micky’s stomach, even though of all the gatherings she was yet to have in the weeks to come, this one should be the least nerve-racking. Kristin had organized an open mic poetry night at The Pink Bean, and she and Robin were going together. It was a Friday evening, and her kids were home alone, a fact for which Micky felt disproportionally guilty, despite Liv and Chris being old enough to stay at the house alone and take care of themselves.
“I’m going to an event at The Pink Bean,” Micky had said.
“Wow, you really can’t stay away from that place, Mom,” Olivia had replied. “When can I try the coffee?”
Micky could only hope her daughter hadn’t seen the flyer for the open mic tonight, which had been very much advertised as LGBT-focused.
Amber, Kristin, and Sheryl would be there—perhaps even Martha—and Micky was eager to introduce Robin to them officially. But it was all so new and so different from anything else she’d ever done. Micky might be forty-four, but she’d only had one significant relationship in her life so far. Up until her divorce, she had probably followed the exact path her parents had dreamed up for her. While still at university, she’d fallen in love with a man no parent would disapprove of, quickly followed up by marrying and having a boy and a girl—how perfect was that? Micky had followed all the rules, had done exactly what everyone had always expected of her. She even had a lesbian best friend, for added political correctness.
One life event had flowed into the next, and she’d never had to stop to think about whether any of the things she did were socially acceptable or frowned upon. Walking to The Pink Bean that night was an entirely different experience, because, to her, it felt as though she was breaking every rule possible and, more disconcertingly, she didn’t really know how to behave. She had a lot of questions rummaging in the back of her mind. On top of all that, this was also Micky’s first official LGBT activity. It wasn’t a coming out as such, but she would at least be considered by many as gay by association.
When she arrived at the coffeehouse, Robin was already there. She was chatting to a woman Micky didn’t recognize.
Robin kissed her on the lips, then introduced her to the woman. “This is Meredith, a colleague who got extremely excited when I told her about tonight’s poetry night.”
Micky shook hands with Meredith, hoping she wasn’t the chatty type at the office, and didn’t work with Lisa. This was all too close for comfort. She would need to tell Darren sooner rather than later.
Amber arrived. Micky hadn’t seen or spoken to her all week because she’d gone on a five-day yoga retreat in Queensland where cell phones and the internet were not allowed. “It’s not just a physical detox,” Amber had said, “but also a digital one.” Micky had missed her best friend so much, she wanted to hug her and linger in Amber’s comforting embrace for a good long while. They all said hello, and even before Micky had the time to inquire with Amber whether she’d been in touch with Martha at all, Kristin tapped the microphone and called for everyone’s attention.
✶ ✶ ✶
“Honestly,” Micky whispered in Robin’s ear, “I’m not really one for poetry, but your colleague was very good. She was my favorite.”
“I’ll recite some for you later,” Robin replied.
They applauded Meredith and watched her walk back to her seat. Then Kristin took back the mic and thanked everyone for coming. The Pink Bean was not licensed to serve alcohol, so not many audience members were inclined to stick around on a Friday night.
“I’m meeting my friends in a bar in Newtown,” Meredith said. “Do you guys want to join?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Micky said.
“I’ll hang out here with Micky,” Robin said.
After Meredith had left, Robin said, “Have you ever been to Newtown? It’s where all the lesbians hang out.”
Micky just chuckled and shook her head. “She’s not going to, er, tell anyone at work about me, is she?” Sydney was a big city, but the banking world was small, and not a lot of bankers’ ex-wives went by the nickname Micky.
“About the hot piece of ass I’m dating? How can you possibly expect her to be discreet about that?” Robin joked and kissed her on the cheek.
Micky hadn’t seen Robin since saying good-bye to her quickly on Wednesday morning. Robin had been leading a two-day workshop on a subject matter Micky had forgotten about and hadn’t come into The Pink Bean for her daily coffee. Micky had thought about her every single second.