ANH HANDED ME THE Flirtini-a martini made of vodka, champagne, and pineapple juice-and tossed her flip-flops off her feet. She wore them all year around, even in the dead of winter. She said Vietnamese were hot-blooded, but I told her in her case, it was more likely her hot-headed nature. She didn't argue.
It was Girls' Night In, something we were used to since I couldn't afford Girls' Night Out anymore. The last of Joel's life insurance money had been used for that bed and some Christmas gifts for the boys I knew their father would want them to have. I would be on my own financially, yet for the first time I knew I could make it.
Anh had become quite a cocktail waitress from our GNI evenings. “She's unbelievable,” Anh said, taking a sip of the concoction she'd mixed and rolling her eyes. “This is why a woman should not get in a relationship with a divorced man: you don't just date them, you date their exes. It's a threesome, without the pleasure.”
I joined her on the couch, still high from my own unbelievable Saturday, only for a very different reason. My garage was pristine, every inch litter-free, as organized as an After on a home improvement show. And the house hunting with Cortland hadn't been bad, either. That is, until he spotted the house across the street and two doors down that was for sale, a cottage-looking home with a wraparound front porch, blue shutters and immaculate landscaping. Mrs. Thompson had died six months prior, and her three grown boys were selling it and splitting the profits. I'd watched enough HGTV to know the reason her house wasn't selling wasn't because it wasn't cute, but because it was cutesy cute. Mrs. Thompson had collected ducks. She had duck borders and duck towels and duck rugs and ducks painted on the walls.
Cortland saw beyond the ducks. Besides, he claimed he liked to renovate. “My wife wanted everything brand new,” he complained. “I like to fix things with my own hands.”
Which got me to thinking about his hands: ones that had lulled people to sleep for surgery, ones that had pulled out a beautiful baby girl the day before, ones that had roamed over my body at the restaurant two weeks prior.
“At least da Vinci has no ex,” Anh went on.
“I'm not so sure,” I said, tossing her an envelope he'd gotten in the mail that day. It would've been an ordinary air-mail envelope, save for two things: the penmanship was beautiful, carefully scripted by someone who relished writing da Vinci's name, and the return address noted the sender as Chiara, which meant “bright and famous.” None of his sisters were named Chiara, I knew, and I doubt they would've spritzed the envelope with perfume, either.
“Smells sexy,” Anh said. “I thought he didn't have anyone special back home?”
“Who knows,” I downed the Flirtini as Anh poured me another. “He's at another frat party tonight, so I'll ask him tomorrow. I hate feeling jealous.”
“Of Chiara or the frat party?”
“Both. When I'm away from him, I start thinking I'd be okay with him leaving, but as soon as I see him, I want him again.”
“It's the pheromones. He's a magnet guy. You can't help being drawn to him. Especially with amazing sex. He got chakra two back in action. As long as he doesn't make a habit of peeing in the bed.”
I considered the sex, wishing I hadn't gotten used to it. Da Vinci did things to me I'd never let Joel do. I'd been so afraid to explore with Joel, afraid he would think badly of me, especially after we had kids. The sex kept the loneliness at bay. I grabbed a chocolate-covered strawberry from the dish on the table. Anh insisted our Girls' Night In consist of more than Ruffles and ranch dip this time, so she set us up properly: sushi, loads of chocolate and enough Flirtini mix for a party of twelve. “So you were saying… about being in a threesome with my sister?”
“Ugh. This is why I can't date Michael. She calls him nearly every day, and it's not always about Zoe, although she had a mouthful to say about your little stunt at the pageant.”
“Well, Zoe gets to play soccer now, so it was worth it.”
“Michael thinks she'll flip out when she hears we're dating, and I stopped him and said, 'Excuse me? We're dating? Because I thought we were just sleeping together.'”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. So he goes, 'Fine, then I'll return the tickets to the Bahamas I ordered on Priceline.com today.'”
“You can't resist a guy who knows how to find a good deal.”
“Or a beach far, far away from my grandmotherhood.”
“Where is Vi tonight?”
“With her mother.”
“On a Saturday night?”
“Don't even get me started.”
“Fine. I'd rather hear more about you and Michael. And I'd love to see you and my sis in a bitch-slap contest.”
“Funny. I don't know who she'd hate worse: me for screwing her ex or you for kissing her current.”
“He's dumping her.”
“Time will tell.”
“No, he wants to buy Mrs. Thompson's house. Probably already made the offer.”
“The duck house?”
“He's into home improvement.”
“Thrifty with his money, too, huh?”
“If he didn't break up with Rachel, his downsizing alone would cause her to break up with him.”
“Crap,” she said. “No offense to you, but I wish things would've worked out with her and Cortland just so she'd have a diversion.”
“Her diversion is her career. Besides, maybe she'll hook up with Leonardo DiCaprio tonight.”
“Her head wouldn't fit on the plane. So does this mean that my widowy friend now has two guys in her life?”
“I can feel da Vinci slipping from my grasp. He says he loves me, but I think he's just scared to let go. I've been his lifeline in America up to now, and maybe he's been mine, getting back out there again, but being with him isn't the same as being with an American or someone my own age. He's as lost as I am.”
“We all need something or someone to hold onto.”
“This coming from someone who swore she'd never love again.”
“I'm not loving again. I'm liking. And I can like going to the Bahamas, too.”
“Well, maybe you should start being a little nicer to him, then. Just because he's a lawyer doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings.”
“Nice? What am I, a putz? Maybe I'll just call and see if he needs some company later.” Anh grabbed up the phone.
“Oh, my God, you're making a booty call and you've only had two drinks.”
“Am not,” she said. “Besides, your booty call is on autopilot. Some of us have to work at it.”
“Whatever.” I poured myself another Flirtini, swearing it would be my last and thankful the boys were staying at Judith's. The doorbell rang. I wondered if da Vinci had changed his mind about the party and wanted to make our own instead. I slunk over to the door and nearly dropped my martini glass when I saw who was staring back at me, as handsome as the photos in his yearbook-older certainly, but distinguished and still All-American.
“Jonathon.” I said, trying to shake off the effect of my three drinks. Perhaps he was a mirage.
He wore a jogging suit, and sweat was trickling down his hairline, but he was still gorgeous, perspiration or not. “Ramona? I'm sorry to drop in like this, but I was out jogging and…”
“Not exactly on your jogging path.” His and Cortland's neighborhood was at least five miles from mine.
“Monica told me you two were going to meet.”
“She did?”
“She's still sick at home, but…”
“Yes, come in, of course.” I stepped back to let him pass, as Anh made her way into the foyer. Her mouth dropped open.
“Anh, this is Jonathon. Jonathon Blevins.”
She tossed her hair back, a classic flirtation, brought on by his looks and the aptly named drink. “Can I get you a Flirtini?”
“A what?”
Anh and I giggled. How girlish. Men like Jonathon probably didn't drink Flirtinis. “It's good I promise. And we won't tell anyone you drank one.”
Jonathon removed his jacket, revealing a Nike shirt clinging to his ripped stomach and biceps even bigger than da Vinci's. “Sure,” he said. “After I drink a bucket of water.”
We stared at him before Anh broke into a surprised smile. “Not sure about the bucket, but I think we're good on the tall glass.”
“Can I get you a T-shirt? I have some of Joel's packed away in the closet. At least Joel liked to wear them big.”
Jonathon flinched at the sound of his friend's name. “That'd be great.”
An hour later, Jonathon was drunk on Flirtinis and Anh excused herself. “I have a thing I have to do.”
“His name is Michael,” I said with a laugh.
She playfully slapped me. “Jonathon, it was nice to meet you. I think you and my friend Michael would love to talk shop. I'll call you.”
Jonathon kissed her on the cheek, and Anh blushed. Now I got it: I'd thought Monica was a heartless bitch for breaking Joel's heart, but being around Jonathon, even after just an hour, I could see why she was torn between the two for more than a decade. He was everything Joel wasn't and vice versa. I got what Monica meant about the two of them together being the perfect man. Still. It didn't make what she did any less awful. Same goes for Jonathon.
“Nothing helps,” Jonathon said, wrapping his large hands around the comparatively small glass. “I've gone to every type of counseling. Marriage counseling, grief counseling. I can't get over losing Joel. Not once. But twice.”
“So why did you do it?”
His eyebrows rose. “I was in love. If you look up ‘fool in love‘ in the dictionary, there I am. I was crazy about Monica, since we were ten years old. But Joel was the smart one, the funny one, and he won her heart. It was only after Monica would do something stupid, like flirt with another boy in school, or start nitpicking him, that he'd break up with her and she'd come crying to me.”
“But why would he break up with her if he loved her?”
“Well, it got to be a pattern with them. Plus this ping-pong relationship started when we were thirteen, and I guess in some ways, they never really matured beyond that. Monica drove him crazy. She was so beautiful, and all she'd have to say to get his attention was that another man flirted with her. In high school, all the college guys were after her, and in college, all the graduates were after her, and it was all too much for him sometimes. He felt like he'd never be enough for her.”
“But you were there waiting in the wings?”
“I can't really explain it. It wasn't a malicious thing. I really was there as a shoulder to cry on, but when you're sixteen and hormones are raging, things just get out of hand. And I knew they weren't meant to be together. They fought all the time. Monica can be hard to handle.”
“But you know how to handle her?”
Jonathon crossed his arms, his biceps bulging against his chest. “We're equals. She couldn't throw it in my face that she could have any guy she wanted, because I was that guy. And she knows I could say the same.”
“She told me you had a reputation.”
“I didn't go through so many women to be a dick. I did it looking for someone I could love as much as I loved Monica. But I never found her.”
“So she told Joel about you against your will?”
“No. I threatened to tell Joel if she didn't first. I couldn't stand the thought of them getting married without him knowing that we'd been together before, even though it was over.”
“But would it have been? Truly over?”
Jonathon shook his head. “She says so, but I knew better. I knew that I would be friends with Joel until I died. I would've married someone I loved just less than Monica, someone to keep me from being lonely, to have children with, and we'd be together every week, our families. At birthday parties and summer vacations. And Monica would be there in her teeny bikini taunting me, this terrible secret between us. And she and Joel would continue to fight and I wouldn't be able to say no to her. It would've been a miserable life.”
“But you're miserable now.”
“I'm only miserable when I think about Joel. Just full of regret, though the therapists tell me the life I have now is far superior to the one I described to you. But when Monica told me you two were going to talk, I knew I had to get to you first.”
“Why?”
“Because Monica doesn't know that Joel forgave me.”
“He what? ”
“He forgave me. About three months before he died. He was working on the new law firm, and Monica told me she was having meetings with him. So I called him up.”
“Because you were scared they would do something?”
“No. Maybe. I don't know. I never really worried about them after he found you. You were the woman I always imagined him with.”
“You did? How so?”
“He needed someone to make him feel good about himself. To not belittle his ambitions. Someone who wanted to make family a priority. He needed an equal.”
“And that was me?”
“Of course. You were both attractive and smart and funny. You complemented each other.”
“But I was going to ask Monica if he cheated on me before he died.”
“He told me you thought that. So he gave up the account and swore he'd never see her again.”
“I wonder why he didn't mention the meeting with you?”
“I don't know. I just know I couldn't tell Monica that he forgave me, because he never forgave her. I wanted to be friends with him again. I know I couldn't get back the type of friendship that we had before or the trust, but I was willing to try. But it wouldn't have worked out, my sneaking behind my wife's back to be friends with the man she loved.”
“Doesn't that drive you insane that she loved him more?”
“I know my wife: she wants what she can't have. And because they were always two puzzle pieces that never quite fit, she made it her mission to force them to fit. But she didn't love him more, only differently. So stop worrying.”
“But he did cheat on me, didn't he?”
“I never asked him, but it was me who couldn't say no to Monica, not your husband.”
“So then, why do you think she wants to meet with me? To confess?”
“I think she just wants to make sure you're leading a good life. Maybe she feels guilty that she didn't end up with him. Think about it: if Joel would've gone through with marrying her, she would've been the widow.”
“And then she would've come back to you.”
“Exactly. Kids and all, she would've come back to me.”
“So you two would've ended up together no matter what.”
“No matter what.” He stood to leave, and I hugged him goodbye. I thought about destiny and fate, and the possibility that he was right: no matter what, they would have ended up together. I hugged him once for me and once for Joel. I could feel Joel's presence around us, and I knew Joel would be happy that Jonathon had come to set things straight.
I wiped away the tears in my eyes. “Thank you, Jonathon. You have no idea how much this helped.”
“Thank you for loving him. He may have lived a short life, but it was the one that he deserved, thanks to you.”