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Twenty-Nine
DAKOTA
I stared at the doorway to the little cafe, not sure what I was doing there at all. There was a queasiness in my stomach that wouldn’t go away. A general unease that made me wonder if I were even hungry, or just too frazzled to eat.
And on top of that my lunch date was late.
It was the first time in a long time I’d actually been this nervous about meeting someone. Each time the door opened a fresh blast of cold Minnesotan air swirled through the front half of the restaurant, and that was with two separate doors acting as a double entranceway. I’d chosen a table near the back. Well out of earshot of the lunch counter and pickup area.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
It was a wild idea, but I really needed to talk to someone. Preferably someone who wouldn’t judge me, so that eliminated friends or family or—
“Hey! Sorry I’m late!”
Naomi swept in with the latest arctic blast, the festive sleigh bells attached to the door jingling and jangling. She gave me a warm hug hello in her puffy Patagonia coat. We exchanged pleasantries and sat down at our empty table, just as we had with Brian.
“How’ve you been?” the pretty brunette asked. Eyeing me up and down, she shrugged off her coat and adjusted the sleeves of her sweater. “Wow. You look amazing!”
“Thanks,” I blushed.
“Wherever you went, you got ahellof a lot of sun.”
It had been a few days since I returned home from Hawaii. I’d spent them buried in my recording studio, making up for all the lost time. As it turned out, having three simultaneous boyfriends tended to keep a girl busy. In more ways than just one.
“I was in Hawaii,” I told her. “It was… spur of the moment.”
I must’ve seemed nervous, because Naomi squinted at me skeptically.
“With Brian?” she asked.
“Hell no!”
Relief flooded her face. “Oh,good!For a minute I was worried you were backsliding.”
“Trust me,” I assured her. “Even for a trip to paradise I wouldn’t be backsliding withthatasshole.”
Naomi laughed and ordered us a pair of coffees. Christmas music drifted down to us as we waited for them to arrive, settling back into our chairs.
“Has he called you?”
“Of course,” I replied. “A few times in the beginning, at least. I didn’t take the calls, though.”
“Me neither,” Naomi admitted. “Although he’s still trying from time to time.”
Together we let that conversation die and be buried. Satisfied that I hadn’t called her down here to discuss our shared ex, Naomi relaxed a little.
“So… what is it then?” she smiled, looking a little devious. “You’re obviously not here to talk about Brian. And as much as I think you’re lovely, our whole little alliance centered around confronting and dumping that cheating shithead. So we’re not really ‘friend’ friends, are we?”
Our coffees arrived. Naomi began pouring enough sugar in hers to jump-start three diabetic comas.
“Number one, wearefriends,” I countered. “Or at least we can be. We’ll just be friends with a shared disaster.”
She laughed, reaching for the cream. “Like survivors of the Titanic?”
“Sure,” I shrugged. “I’d like to think some of those people ended up as lifelong friends, don’t you?”
“I guess so.”
