Cheating on Myself (4 page)

“You will
not
believe what Jana Mancini said to Taylor at school today. I think she’s putting her on a diet. A diet! Taylor is six. Can you imagine the
issues
that kid is going to have if her starved mother is making her
diet
at six?”

Cat carried on, telling me all the latest gossip from Blythe Day School. I had no trouble keeping up. Cat’s girls—Heidi and Pippa—treated me like an aunt, and I’d been around their entire lives. I loved them like my own daughters, and I made a point of dropping them off at school at least once a month. I hoped Cat would still let me be a part of the girls’ lives now that I was no longer a part of Erik’s.

Heidi was six and in first grade, while Pippa had just started her last year of Montessori preschool. The girls were smart and wonderful, and the gossip that came out of their schools was usually pretty amusing. I listened intently as Cat talked about marital trouble and cheating and whose job was in jeopardy. It was a welcome distraction from the rest of my week, and I suddenly wondered if I could avoid telling my friends anything about my now-defunct relationship all night.

By the time we had walked the few short blocks from the parking lot to the restaurant, we were twenty minutes late and I’d heard all about Melissa Engle’s hysterectomy. Lily and Anders were waiting for us at the bar, already halfway through a bottle of red.

“This is mine, girlies,” Lily said, gesturing to the wine. “I had a hell of a day, so I’m going to need the rest of this for
moi
.” She stood up and squished me into a hug, even though we’d seen each other at the office a few hours earlier. Her suit coat was off, revealing a slim silk blouse that covered her curves like it had been made for her. I could feel my own breasts pushing against the buttons of my shirt, threatening to burst under the pressure of my newfound heaving bosom. I was very comfortable calling my rack a bosom, because it felt huge. My yoga-induced inability to exercise had continued to take its toll, and I’d been self-medicating with food after the breakup that week. The spread had moved from my hips to my thighs to my belly, and was now waging a battle with my bras, too.

Anders Sorenson, who was perched on the bar stool next to Lil, rolled his eyes and swiped Lily’s empty wine glass. When Anders hailed the bartender, she rushed over like a dutiful minion and took the glass from his hand. Men and women both tended to respond quickly to Anders. His neat, dark hair and square jaw made him look a lot like a young Pierce Brosnan. Dapper and charming and always honest, Anders was the gay best friend every girl needed—except he was straight. At least, he insisted he was. He rarely dated, never hit on any of us, and gave great advice about just about everything. Even though we were all sure he was hiding a deep secret about his sexuality—from himself as well as the rest of the world—we all simply appreciated the fact that he was all ours.

The wineglass was bussed behind the counter before Lily even noticed it had been taken.

“Might as well drink it from the bottle if you’re drinking alone, eh, Lil? Ladies, I’ve already ordered us our own bottle for the table.” Anders was a childhood friend of Lily’s, and he had become a good friend of mine and Cat’s in the years we’d all known each other. He was laid-back, but had a feisty side that made him a great match for Lily. They only talked about it when they were drunk, but Anders and Lil had dated early in high school. They were strictly platonic now, but talk of their old relationship was always a fun conversation topic.

Lily just laughed and swiped Anders’ glass. She filled it to the top, emptying the bottle of wine in the process, and took a huge swig. Cat and I exchanged a look.

“Here’s the thing, Sorenson—I know you just want an excuse to talk to the bartender again. She’s been ogling you all night, so why don’t I take this glass and you can ask sweet ass over there for a fresh one?”

As Cat, Lily, and I followed the hostess to our table, Anders stayed back at the bar to chat up the bartender. This was all part of the usual routine on drinks’ night. Since Anders was the only single person in our midst, there was some expectation that he’d flirt on everyone’s behalf. We all lived a little vicariously through Anders.

Now that I was officially unhitched, I was concerned my friends might expect me to chat up random people, too. I hoped I wouldn’t be expected to start sleeping around, like Lily had before she started dating Chad. Did people still use condoms, or was there some new protection I would have to learn about? Did I have to start getting Brazilians? Would anyone ever actually want to sleep with me? I swallowed back the panic that had been creeping up every few hours since I’d left Erik’s house earlier that week.

Anyway, I was getting ahead of myself, since I’d only been single for three days. Three days. It’s not like it would be normal for me to just jump back into the ring and start lassoing up men left and right. I was looking for a life partner, not a fling... I wasn’t a fling girl. As I sat at the table, adjusting and readjusting my napkin on my lap, I realized all of my friends were staring at me.

“You look weird, Stella.” This comment, courtesy of Cat, was accompanied by a nod from Lily.

“I’m fat,” I said frankly, as Anders scooted his chair up to join us. “I still can’t run, I can hardly walk, and I haven’t lifted anything more than a glass of wine in four weeks.”

My friends all started to protest, telling me I looked great and relaxed and all the other bullshit friends are supposed to say.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Cat said, her eyes wide. “I mean, you look a little vacant.”

“You okay?” Lily pushed her giant glass of wine toward me, while Anders flagged down our waiter to get more to the table. “Drink this.”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I said, and wondered if it was true.

Anders ordered bruschetta when the waiter came over with our wine, then said, “Have you gotten your back checked out? I can fit you in at the office tomorrow morning, if you want someone to take a look?” Anders was the office manager at a chiropractic and massage therapy center. He loved the job because it gave him time to work on his novel when things were slow, and he was addicted to shiatsu, which he got at a discount from one of the therapists. I wasn’t big on alternative medicine, but I was so frustrated by my back that I would try anything. Also, maybe it was time to try a new approach to everything in life. Enough of my life had changed that a significant shift in all my beliefs and attitudes ought to be easier now than ever.

I nodded. “Sure, that would be good.” They were all still looking at me, which was making me twitch. When I locked eyes with Cat, I could feel the tears springing up to the surface. “I left Erik,” I said, still looking at Cat. “I’m sorry.”

This announcement was met with complete and total silence, an unfamiliar sound for this particular group. Cat spoke first. “Left… how?”

“We… broke up, I guess.” Do you call it a break up when you’ve been together as long as we had? It sounded weird.

“Did he cheat?” Lily said, immediately jumping into protector mode. “Oh my god, he cheated with the intern. That skank who wanted him to mentor her—she’s a whore, Stella. He doesn’t deserve you.”

I laughed, waving my hand to get her to quiet down. “He didn’t cheat with the skanky intern,” I said. I pulled at my earring, remembering when Erik had given this pair to me. It was Christmas, the first year we’d been dating. We went to the winter parade downtown after work one night, and he bought them for me when we’d gone inside to warm up. That was when he still did impulsive things. He hadn’t surprised me like that in a long time.

“I guess it just boils down to the fact that I was tired of waiting for him to marry me.” When I said it out loud to people other than Erik, it sounded so trivial, so whiny. But it was my reason (the only concrete reason, anyway) and I couldn’t question my instincts. It was a big decision, but it wasn’t a stupid decision. I needed to do this for me.

Cat had gotten very pale. “It’s because of my mom. My mom and the gift exchange.” She was staring at me open-mouthed. She looked at Lily and Anders, who were obviously confused. “See, every year my mom puts everyone’s name into a bowl and we draw names for the Christmas gift exchange. But to be included, you have to be an official member of the family. She’s never put Stella’s name in the bowl. Ten years, and Stella sits there at Christmas with no gift under the tree. I told her she was going to drive you away with that effing gift exchange.”

“Cat, there are other things about your mom that would have driven me away a lot faster than her Christmas gift exchange. Her ‘suggestion’ that I find a new hair salon, for one. Or her ‘recommendation’ that I start to dress myself in more ‘winter’ colors.” I shook my head. Erik and Cat’s mom, Laurel, was a piece of work. But since my own mom had died, she was the closest thing to a mother I had.

Anders, who had been casually drinking his wine since I’d made my announcement, suddenly said, “I think it’s great, Stella.” Cat and Lily turned on him like he’d admitted I was, in fact, getting chubby. “What? I do. I think Erik’s fine, but I don’t see the spark. You’re not even married and the spark is gone? That’s not right, sweetie.” He squeezed my hand.

“Pardon my logistical questions,” Lily said, starting to slur a bit. “But don’t you live together?”

“Not anymore.” I pulled a piece of bruschetta onto my plate. “I moved to the Holiday Inn on Monday night.”

Cat audibly gasped, placing a hand over her mouth to cover up her disgust. “The Holiday Inn?”

“It’s less than fifty bucks a night with my AAA discount.” I shrugged. “It was my choice to leave, and it’s his house, so it was up to me to move out.” I’d been desperate when I left on Monday night, and the Holiday Inn was the first hotel I drove past (after stopping for a honey banana milkshake). I probably should have thought it through more carefully, but I hadn’t exactly been in a normal state of mind.

I was proud that I had been sensible enough to ask the front desk if they had had any bedbug issues. When they assured me they did not, I plopped my credit card on the counter and told them I’d be staying for a while. That promise had gotten me an upgrade to a room with one king bed and a scabby-looking jacuzzi tub, plus free HBO, all for less than a great meal and a few drinks out. The room itself reminded me of the one my high school friends and I had rented after our senior prom. I only wished I had as much beer as we’d had that night. Instead, I’d opened up the mini-bar, dumped a mini bottle of Bailey’s into my milkshake, and found a cleaned up version of
9 ½ Weeks
showing on Lifetime. Tuesday night I’d ordered a pizza and watched old episodes of
Family Guy
. Wednesday, I’d gone home to the hotel, cut slices off a block of cheese that I alternated with bites of a baguette I’d bought in the office cafeteria, and zoned out in front of
Pretty Woman
. All in all, a gluttonous and ugly week, but it had made me feel better. And someone made my bed every morning, which was a welcome perk.

Anders suddenly shouted, “You’ll move in with me!”

I had considered that option. Anders actually lived in the tiny, two-bedroom tudor I’d bought before Erik and I had decided to live together. I loved my house, and had wisely decided not to sell it because the housing market had crashed just as I moved into Erik’s place. Anders had been looking for an apartment at the time, so for the last four years he’d been renting my house from me. “I’ll give you the master bedroom back.”

“I can’t take your bedroom,” I insisted. “But it would be nice to move home. Would you be okay with a roommate?”

“I—well, you—have two bedrooms and I get so bored. It will be fun!”

I wasn’t so sure about fun, but I did really want to be somewhere familiar. I couldn’t exactly kick him out of my house and I couldn’t imagine renting a tiny apartment after spreading out into Erik’s house. And I wasn’t so sure the lifestyle precedent I’d set that week while living alone at the Holiday Inn was healthy, so maybe it would work out for me to live with Anders.

“Okay, as long as you’re willing. I’ll cut your rent, obviously.”

Cat was shaking her head, and I wondered if she was still thinking about my residence at the Holiday Inn, or if she was back to dwelling on the breakup itself. “This is all very sweet, buddy-bonding roommate business, but I’m having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that you and Erik are separated.”

“We’re not separated, we broke up,” I clarified and took a bite of bruschetta. Through a full mouth, I said, “Separation can only happen when you’re married, which we’re not.” Cat looked at me pityingly, and I knew she understood. We’d talked about this several times in the past, and she’d been pushing Erik to commit for longer than I had. Cat was big on tradition and formality, and I know she got it. I don’t think she’d ever expected it would actually drive me away from him. That bothered me.

Lily, who’d now finished her bowl of wine, reached out and put her hand on my arm. “Are you sure it’s not about the skanky intern? Please, give me a reason to believe… you guys were just so right together. Weren’t you happy?”

I clenched my teeth together and said, “Listen, this wasn’t an easy or simple decision. I kinda need your support.” Cat nodded slightly, and Lily just looked surprised. Finally, she nodded her head once. “I’ve been with him since I was practically a child, and I’ve never really stepped back and considered my own wants and needs. I can’t do that when I’m living in Erik’s life, wondering if he’s ever going to get bored and just take off. For a skanky intern or worse.”

“So you’re trying to teach him a lesson?” Lily narrowed her eyes at me. She always wanted a clear explanation, and I knew I wasn’t going to be able to offer that.

Anders surprised me when he covered Lily’s mouth with her hand. “Bottom line: Stella has made a very important decision about her life, and we’re going to help her get through this in the best way friends can.” How was this guy straight and not taken? I briefly wondered if I could get over the whole mixed-signal-sexuality thing and go after Anders? Nope. Wasn’t going to happen. “We will listen, we will tell her she’s wise and wonderful, and we’re going to help her find a fling that will allow her to forget Erik.”