Bethany was frowning when she opened the door, but then a smile cleared her face. “What?” She stomped her foot. “You are so hot in that dress. I am attracted to you right now. No joke. Go through with the divorce so we can get married.” She squealed and clapped her hands. “Sorry, I took that too far, but you look insane.”
“I feel insane.” Rosie twisted her hips side to side. “It wasn’t on sale, either. I splurged. I’m not even sorry!”
“You shouldn’t be! Sorry is for suckers!” Bethany took Rosie’s wrists and held them out to her sides. “Do you have shoes?”
“I was just going to wear my work heels—”
“Nope.” Bethany made a ninety-degree turn and marched out the door. “Follow me.”
They were sitting on the luxurious white carpeting in Bethany’s walk-in closet when Georgie appeared in the doorframe. Dressed in a clown suit. “Hey. I wasn’t invited to the shoe party?”
“It was an impromptu affair. Rosie is going on a date with her husband.”
Georgie dropped into a cross-legged position. “Where?”
“I don’t know.” Nerves flickered in her fingertips. “He just said he’d pick me up at six.”
“Ooh. Mysterious.”
Rosie hummed and slipped on a pair of matte gold stilettos. “These?”
“God, yes, that gold complements the color of the dress beautifully,” Bethany breathed, waving a hand at Rosie’s feet. “Make sure you bring along some flats in your purse, though. I once ditched a date in Manhattan and opened nine blisters on my feet trying to catch a cab in those things. They’re not made for walking.”
“Ah yes,” Georgie said. “The classic sitting-only shoe. Extremely practical.”
Rosie chuckled and stood up, taking a runway strut out of the closet and back. “Practical or not, they’re designed to put impure thoughts in a man’s head.”
“Any inanimate object puts impure thoughts in a man’s head.” Bethany made a disgusted sound. “Box of cereal. Boner. Ice-cube tray. Boner.”
Georgie pursed her lips. “Still haven’t ended your man sabbatical, Bethany?”
“Nope. Worked out my urges with some quality internet time and I’m back on track.” The blonde tipped her chin in Rosie’s direction. “So . . . are we interested in putting impure thoughts in Dominic’s head? I thought that was a no-no.”
Rosie squared her shoulders. “It’s inevitable. We’re just . . .”
Georgie made an explosion sound, accompanied by hand gestures.
“Yes. That.” Rosie smoothed some imaginary wrinkles out of her dress. “We’re still following the rules, but there might have been some . . . toeing of the line.”
Bethany wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that what the kids are calling it nowadays?”
“Travis calls it adult naptime.” Georgie slapped both hands over her face. “Oh my God, he’s so cute. I can’t even deal with it.”
Rosie smiled. “Sounds like you resolved the wedding-venue issue?”
“Totally resolved. We’re really getting married in my mom and dad’s backyard.” She dropped her hands from her face to reveal a bright pink blush. “I’m going to have his babies all over the place. I can’t believe this is life.”
I used to feel that way. Rosie could remember it clear as day, that floating, rapturous sensation where the future stretched out in front of her like a red carpet. Thing was, last night dancing in the kitchen with Dominic, she’d been back in that place. Right up until she’d walked out the door, actually, the years of silence and uncertainty had been stripped away—and there’d just been floating. God, she wanted to be back there so bad. Back there to stay.
“You’re quiet, Rosie.” Bethany nudged her with a wedge heel. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.” She pressed a hand to her belly. “I’m excited, that’s all. It feels like a first date and I haven’t had one of those since middle school. And I’m pretty sure I wore cropped cargo pants and a fashion scarf then, so hello, improvement.”
“Hell yeah,” Georgie said, reaching up to give her a high five. “How often did you and Dominic go out before you vamoosed?”
Rosie let out a breath. “Hmm, let’s see. Never? We started off our marriage staying home alone, and we never broke the habit.”
“Why do you think that is?”
She didn’t need a moment to consider the question, since Dominic’s possessive nature had been on her mind for a while. “Dominic liked having me to himself. And I loved being with him, so we kind of fell into a pattern of avoiding social situations, except for the odd visit to his family in the Bronx. By the time my mother passed and I needed a friend, I guess it kind of felt too late to try. Dominic’s mother is so sweet to me when we go to visit. She tries to fix me up on friend dates with her nieces, but they’ve already got their inside jokes and . . . I kind of feel like an intruder.” She split a look between the sisters. “For the last couple years, every time I spoke to you two at the Brick and Morty company picnic, I hoped we’d get to spend more time together, but . . .”
“I’m really glad we finally are,” Bethany murmured.
“Me too.” Brows pulling together, Rosie smoothed the material of her dress. “If Dominic and I can make this work, he’ll have to get used to sharing me. I wonder if he realizes that.” They sat in silence for a moment until Rosie started to fidget, needing a distraction from her first-date nerves. “Sidetrack me. How was everyone else’s day?”
Georgie made a sound. “I hate to bring this super-fun, girly mood down, but . . . I worked a birthday party this afternoon—I don’t know if you can tell from my elaborate face paint. Anyway, there was a discussion at the adult table. You know that woman Becky, who worked in the supermarket?”
Bethany hummed. “I get my groceries delivered.”
“I know her.” Rosie frowned. “Haven’t seen her in a while, come to think of it.”
“Yeah.” Georgie’s swallow was audible. “Her marriage was rocky, from what people can tell. And one morning, she just . . . took off. Left her kid with the husband. But . . . he wasn’t really interested in being a single father. So Supermarket Becky’s brother is in town now. He’s taken over raising the little girl, but he’s not having the easiest time. She’s seven.”
A shoe dangled, seemingly forgotten, from Bethany’s index finger. “Oh my God.”
“I know.”
Remembering how close she’d been to her mother at that age—at every age—Rosie felt her stomach twist. But an idea occurred to her. “We should help. The Just Us League.” Rosie wet her lips. “We could start a schedule. Meals and babysitting? I can’t imagine everyone wouldn’t want to help.”
Bethany was slowly nodding. “Great idea. We’ve got, like, nine empty nesters in the league who would kill to have a little one running around once in a while. Not to mention Georgie, who is like foaming at the fucking mouth to put her ovaries to use—”