No Strings Attached (The Pink Bean Series Book 1) (14 page)

“I know this is not what you want to hear right now, but you’re going to have to move on.”

“I know.” If only Micky knew how. Then she imagined Robin moving on. The thought of running into her with another woman by her side made her stomach roil.

“Either way, I would advise you to play the field, Micky. Your first steps into this brave new world”—only Amber would ever call what Micky had done by that dramatic name—“were glorious. It would be so easy to put a positive spin on it. Remember my first time with Annette Fielding?” Amber fixed her green gaze on Micky. “You’re lucky.”

“Wasn’t your first time with Steven What’s-His-Name?” Micky said, knowing full well she would rile Amber greatly with that comment.

“My real first time.” Amber didn’t even raise her voice. Maybe she’d been doing yoga all weekend and she was so Zen nothing Micky said could rattle her.

“I just feel…” Micky was starting to get sick of feeling sorry for herself. What was it that Amber always said?
Introspection is fine. Wallowing is not.
“Like I’ve wasted so much time.”

“Though I understand that sentiment, you could also choose to look at things differently. You used your time to build a family, and it gave you two beautiful children—and your best friend two beautiful godchildren. And you do have time, Micky. Time to discover yourself, to find out what you want. There’s no ticking clock here.”

“I’ve been thinking about the spectrum a lot,” Micky said. “Honestly, after the time I spent with Robin, I can’t possibly imagine ever falling for a man again.”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.” Amber put a hand on Micky’s arm, after which Micky proceeded to tell her about Darren’s new girlfriend Lisa.

“Now you can stop feeling guilty about that as well. Darren has someone new in his life. He’s moving on.”

“It’s just that when he told me about her and I imagined having to tell him and the kids about the new person in my life, it seemed very unfathomable. Like he would never be able to believe it.”

Amber looked at her and didn’t say anything for a few long seconds, then cleared her throat. “I never told you this because I promised I wouldn’t, and I shouldn’t even tell you now, although I think the term for keeping it a secret has passed, and I also think you need to know.”

Micky’s pulse picked up.

“After you first told him you wanted a divorce, Darren came to me. He was actually waiting for me outside the yoga studio, insisting on a chat. We went for a drink, and he asked me flat-out if, firstly, I knew what was going on and, secondly, if you’d ever shown signs of being attracted to women.”

Micky’s jaw slacked; her eyes widened. “He—he did?”

She couldn’t believe Amber had never told her. Then again, anyone, even someone she’d never met before, who swore Amber to secrecy would get it, no questions asked. But this was Darren. And Amber was her best friend.

“The number of times I’ve wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I hope you understand that.” Amber patted Micky’s arm.

“What did you reply?” Micky was trying to process this new piece of information. Had Darren known before she did?

“I told him the truth. I told him that I didn’t know.”

“Even though you did…”

Amber shook her head. “No, I didn’t. You never really told me. Not that you had to, but you never said the words.”

“Why do you think he asked you that question? Did you quiz him about that?” The fact that Darren might have suspected did not sit right with Micky, though, of course, for so many years, he had been the person she was closest to in her life. He was her husband. If it had been the other way around, surely she would have suspected something as well. Yet, he never expressed his suspicions to her.

Amber pondered this question for an instant. “He said it was just a feeling he got sometimes. I think he was just feverishly looking for answers at the time. Leaving no stone unturned.”

“He was a good man, and I hurt him.” No matter how happy Lisa made Darren, and it was absolutely not a given that she would, Micky would always feel guilty about that.

“You had no choice. That’s just how it is sometimes.”

“I should have told him. I should have been brave enough to address the real reason why I was tearing our family apart.”

“How could you when you couldn’t even admit it to yourself? At the very least you can thank Robin for that. But it took you a year after your divorce was actually finalized to take a step in the right direction. No one can ever blame you for jumping headlong into something you didn’t think through for a very long time beforehand.”

“Which is exactly why I feel like such a royal screw-up sometimes. How could I not have known? My best friend since childhood is a lesbian, for Pete’s sake.”

“Because it’s different for all of us. There is no one prescribed path. It’s a really hard thing to come to terms with for someone in your position. You should never, ever feel bad about walking your own path, Micky. Besides, look at you now. You know now.”

“Do you think I should tell Darren?”

“In time, but first, you need to take the time it takes to accept it fully yourself.”

“You mean sleep with some more women?” Micky could do with a chuckle right about now.

“If that’s what it takes.” Of course, Amber didn’t take it as a joke.

Suddenly, another question reared its head. “Do you think Mom suspects?”

Amber scrunched her lips together. “That I truly can’t answer. She’s your mother and you’re close, so she might, but she’s never asked me about it.”

“What are my children going to say when I tell them?” This was why coming to the realization that most of her life had been based on a desire she’d always carefully stowed away was so hard for Micky. All this informing of people she loved she would have to go through.

“Olivia and Christopher have the coolest lesbian aunt. And they’re children of their time. They’ll get used to it.” Amber shot her an encouraging smile. “You’re not required to tell anyone unless you feel 100 percent ready. Coming out, though an outward action, is deeply personal and should never be forced upon anyone.”

“What would I do without you?” Micky looked her friend in the eye.

“My guess is you’d be going out for a good amount of beer and fish and chips tonight, which are, decidedly, not the answer to any of life’s problems. I’m taking you out to dinner. You need some good food in you. I’ll even meditate with you, if you were to feel so inclined.”

“Don’t push it,” Micky said, looking at Amber. Despite missing Robin’s presence enormously, she felt loved nonetheless.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Micky was sitting with Kristin in The Pink Bean after her shift, waiting for Sheryl, who had the afternoon off, to join them for lunch. It was Tuesday, and Robin hadn’t come in yet this week to order a wet capp. She’d probably found another coffee shop; the neighborhood was full of excellent ones. When Kristin had asked Micky if she wanted to join her and Sheryl for lunch, Micky had jumped at the opportunity—especially when she’d heard Kristin’s erudite wife would be there.

Though she’d been quite liquored-up at the dinner party two weeks prior, Micky had taken an instant liking to well-spoken and straight-forward Sheryl. She looked forward to spending time with her while neither one of them were under the influence. Moreover, Olivia and Christopher, whom she had missed disproportionally since her last conversation with Robin, were only due back tomorrow. The last thing Micky needed was more time alone with her thoughts.

“Give it to me, boss,” she joked, while sitting across from Kristin. “What’s my performance report after three weeks? I know I lost you a loyal customer, but I’m glad we’ve discussed that already.” Micky wasn’t certain about Kristin’s sense of humor. She was definitely the more serious one of the couple.

“You’re doing fine.” She fixed her dark eyes on Micky. “We both know I didn’t give you the job because you graduated with honors from Barista School.” She painted a wide smile on her face. “I recognize a woman in distress when I see one.”

“That’s very… altruistic of you. To put me before your business.”

Kristin held up her hands. “I did no such thing. Customers will always come first, and I watched you like a hawk the first few days. You have a certain way with customers that not a lot of people have. That’s much more important to me than knowing how to artfully pour a wet cappuccino.” Kristin did have a sense of humor then.

“I really appreciate you taking me on. It was a steep learning curve, but I actually enjoy being here every morning.”

“I can tell, which is why you get to stay.”

“I’d like to have you and Sheryl over for dinner at my house some time soon. I can’t promise the same culinary excellence you delivered, but I really enjoyed that dinner party you threw.”

“About that…” Kristin got a wicked twinkle in her eye. “Do tell if it’s too soon, but we have a friend we would like to introduce you to. She’s a colleague of Sheryl’s. Very smart, very accomplished and… kind of in a similar boat as you.”

Micky’s heart started hammering in her chest. Did they want to set her up? “I would surely not call myself accomplished,” Micky joked, deflecting.

“No need to give me an answer now. Think about it. Let me know if and when you’re ready. Meanwhile, we’d love to sample your cooking. Oh.” Kristin sat up straighter. Micky had her back to the door. The first thought that flashed through her mind at Kristin’s reaction was that Robin had walked in—that she’d waited until after Micky’s shift to get her daily caffeine fix.

“There’s Sheryl, and she’s not alone.” She bent over the table and found Micky’s ear. “Trust me, this is not what we had agreed upon.”

Confused, Micky rose and turned around. Sheryl smiled broadly at her. Next to her stood a woman with an equally winning smile. Then it dawned on Micky. It was the woman Kristin had just mentioned, and Sheryl had jumped the gun. Not a bad decision, Micky thought, because giving her the chance to ponder the possibility for too long would surely have resulted in a no.

“This is my colleague Martha,” Sheryl said, “I’ve invited her to lunch. I hope you don’t mind.”

Martha was blonde like Robin, but in a very different way. Her hair color was eerily light, and surely real. She looked like she was from Eastern European descent with her high cheekbones and strong jaw. She was also at least ten years older than Robin.

Robin. Robin. Robin.
Argh.

As Micky stretched out her hand, she vowed to stop comparing, push the memory of Robin to the back of her brain, and focus on getting to know Martha. After all, it wasn’t every day that your boss’s wife introduced you to
a woman in the same boat
.

Martha’s grip was firm and cool, and she wasn’t afraid to look Micky straight in the eye as they shook hands.

✶ ✶ ✶

Micky couldn’t believe she’d had such a hard time getting out of bed that morning. Look at her now. Her brand new friends had just set her up with a woman
and
she wasn’t even freaking out about it. In fact, she welcomed the distraction Martha’s inquisitive gaze brought.

On the way to the restaurant, Kristin and Sheryl walking ahead of her and Martha, Micky witnessed how they exchanged a few looks. Kristin was surely not the kind of person to scold her wife in public for introducing Micky to a potential love interest out of the blue like that, but Micky imagined she’d have a few things to say about it behind closed doors later.

Sitting down, Sheryl on one side of her, Martha on the other, Micky did feel a sort of accomplishment. A sentiment she could easily attribute to Amber again, for pushing her to work at The Pink Bean, and for recognizing that need for something more inside of her at the right time. But Micky was done selling herself short. She was the one who had had the courage to start working the morning shift at a coffee shop at the age of forty-four. An activity that, no matter the not-ideal outcome with Robin, had changed her life for the better.

“Just to get any misconceptions out of the way,” Martha said solemnly after they’d ordered wine and water, “I was the one who asked Sheryl if I could join you for lunch.”

An expert at disarming people
. Then Micky was gripped by a bout of nerves. Why had Martha insisted?

“And here I was trying to set it all up subtly and slowly,” Kristin replied. Underneath her stern Asian exterior, she was quite easygoing.

“It’s fine,” Micky said. “I feel flattered.” Though, of course, aside from flattered, Micky also felt rather put on the spot. Was she supposed to start flirting with Martha in front of Sheryl and Kristin? Was it even okay to mention Robin now that they had introduced her to Martha? Micky would have liked to find out what Sheryl had to say about the whole Robin thing, but she could hardly ask her now.

“So do I.” Martha fastened her gaze on Micky.

If this woman was, in fact, in the same boat as Micky, where did she get this amount of confidence?

Kristin and Sheryl were skilled at keeping the conversation going and asking the right kind of questions at the right time so Micky could give the gist of her story while she learned about Martha. After lunch, which had been civilized and pleasant, Micky knew that Martha fell into the same latebian category as she did, though her husband of twenty years had left her for “a younger model” first, before Martha’d had the chance to “realize her true potential.” This information made Martha especially interesting to Micky, who left the restaurant with a million questions on her mind. To meet someone who was going through the same monumental changes was a relief.

Kristin and Sheryl discreetly disappeared after lunch, leaving Micky purposelessly lingering on the sidewalk with Martha.

“Dessert?” Martha asked.

Micky checked her watch. “I have yoga at four.” Micky could not afford to miss today’s class. She had too much inner turmoil to deal with—and renewed sexual energy to release—and she didn’t want to disappoint Amber by not turning up again. “Which gives me forty-five minutes.”

“I’ll take them,” Martha said.

✶ ✶ ✶

“I have known for years,” Martha said. “But when you’re married to the Vice Chancellor at the University of Sydney, it’s quite hard to just tell your husband and find yourself a lady.”