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“Gosh, it’s so much better to be on the other side of these types of situations,” Nora says, bright-red lipstick shimmering on her smiling lips. She arches a brow at me. “You all must have really enjoyed watching us all suffer over the years.”
“Girl, you have no idea,” Simone quips, laughing. She turns to Mia. “A word to the wise: Just bang him and get it over with.”
“Which ‘him’ are we talking about here?” Mia answers suspiciously.
Simone just giggles.
“Well, first things first,” Trina cuts in, “let’s figure out your outfit for the date.”
“They’re going to Dolce Vita,” I supply.
“The new Italian place? Dorothy told me it was divine,” Nora adds.
“They have great cannolis,” Jen says. “I’m going to drop off some pastries next week and see if the chef will give me any hints about the recipe.”
“How does Des feel about you going on a date with another man?” Simone asks, eyes sparkling.
Mia sips her coffee primly. “Des and I aren’t dating, so whatever his feelings are, they’re not relevant.”
“Sure they aren’t,” Simone says with a laugh.
“Outfit, ladies, outfit!” Trina brings us back to the matter at hand. “What are your options?”
Mia shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m guessing I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard?”
“What are we, twenty-two years old?” Georgia waves a hand. “Wear whatever you want. Try hard. Look fab. Show up in a freaking ball gown if you feel like it. Life’s too short to worry about what other people think.”
“Hear, hear!” I call out.
“Finally, you ladies are on my level.” Trina laughs. “There’s no such thing as being overdressed. I think you should try to look as hot as humanly possible.”
“But something loose enough that you can stuff your face with pasta and cannolis and you won’t bust any seams on the way home,” Simone adds. “Plus, vigorous sex requires adequate nutrition.”
Mia’s face breaks into a smile. She shakes her head. “How did it take me so long to befriend you all? I needed this kind of cheerleading years ago.”
“We can come over on Friday afternoon and help you get ready,” Trina offers.
“I’ll go over to my old apartment and grab some options,” Mia says, nodding. She grins at us all in turn. “Thank you. I feel much better.”
Candice pats her knee. “Glad to help, Mia.”
“Gives us something to gossip about,” Simone adds. “So it’s a fair trade.”
When we finally break apart, heading to various homes and businesses around town, I wave at Mia and watch her head across to her barbershop.
Simone bumps her hip against mine. “You coming to Candice’s tonight for yoga?”
“Yeah,” I answer. “You think Mia’s okay? We didn’t even talk about her ex-husband contacting her out of the blue.”
“I got the feeling she’d rather talk about outfits and Italian restaurants,” Simone answers, “but I hope she’ll open up about the rest of it when she’s ready.”
I nod, then follow my best and oldest friend into our coffee shop with one last glance as the newest member of our group disappears behind her barbershop door.
7
MIA
Desmond is in my apartment,wearing old jeans and a flannel button-down. He’s ripping the wall apart with his bare hands again, tossing bits of wood and drywall into a pile of debris in the middle of my kitchen (technically, he’s wearing gloves, but he’s still ripping the wall apart with his freaking hands). He looks like a big meathead, grunting around using his strength to push his way around. Ugh. It’s awful.
