“I’m just joshing ya,” he said, laughing, as he went to pour her drinks.
The blush turned to a sting. Right. Of course.
He put the drinks on the bar and she slammed down the shot. Handed him cash with a big tip he didn’t deserve. As soon as the money left her hand, she realized she’d done it to make herself look important and instantly she was sick with herself.
Around her the restaurant was emptying of families with children. Now it was mostly couples dining together, first dates and long-term marriages, everyone paired. Blue tried to remember the last time she’d even had a crush on anyone. There was that one guy at the bar on Fifty-Second who she thought might like her—he’d chatted her up all night and she was sure he was going to ask for her number. But then he’d followed her into the bathroom and asked her to go down on him. Called her a fat bitch when she refused. She tried to let herself cry in the taxi home but she couldn’t. By that time all of her tears had solidified into some dense, immovable block in her chest.
Oh, and there had been Patrick at work. He had a sweetness to him, a bit of low self-esteem, but he wasn’t bad looking and sometimes he made her laugh. A coworker had mentioned that he liked her—though Blue found that hard to believe—but no door had ever opened to cross over into a relationship. She didn’t know how to act like anything except a buddy. In fact, the more she liked a guy, the more inclined she was to chum it up. She had no clue how to flirt or seduce or even show mild interest. That was the part that was too hard. To dare to let herself be seen as a woman, a potential lover, to risk revealing her own want to be seen as that. She always imagined it being met with revulsion. Anyway, the new secretary had made her move on Patrick. Candy was her name. Jesus, it was like a bad porno. And maybe that’s what he wanted, because Blue had attended their wedding last year.
On some level Blue knew she was complicit in her singleness, recognized the hardness in herself, knew that it was people’s softness, their tender spots that made other people love them, and she had those—it wasn’t that she didn’t have soft spots, too—only she didn’t know how to show them. If one slipped out for even a moment, she’d rush to cover it with a joke or a curse word. She didn’t know how to stop doing that. It felt like survival.
Instead she’d trained herself to make love not matter. And while sometimes when she was alone in her apartment she would lie on her couch in a ball, her arms tucked inside her knees so the squeezing weight would feel like a hug, for the most part she’d accepted that there were some things in life she wouldn’t get to have. But now because of Jack...because his reappearance online made her remember, made her miss...
I’m such an idiot, she thought, to have let myself dream.
She sighed, headed back to the table hoping Maya and Hannah had returned.
She found Renee still alone, fiddling with her engagement ring. Twisting it to the left. Twisting it to the right. Twisting Blue’s guts right along with it. Not that she wanted to be engaged. God, no. She had no interest in marriage. But she wanted love. To even know it for a moment, just once in her adulthood. It seemed so little to ask. But instead Renee had found exactly the love she always dreamed of while Blue had spent the last twelve years totally, profoundly deprived of it, her once bright hopes torn down like drapes. And Renee to blame for it all.
“Look,” Renee said as Blue sat down without speaking, “can we just start over?”
It was so Renee to want to pretend nothing had happened. To clear it from the record like a questionable call in a Little League game.
“Hi, I’m Renee.” She smiled, encouraged Blue to play along.
Blue just stared. Early on in her job she’d learned that silence was often the most powerful response. It shrunk other people. Made them squirm with discomfort. She could actually see the uneasy fidget in Renee’s eyes. She tried to enjoy it, this momentary revenge. Instead, a guilty twinge. Why did acting in anger always make her feel like a bad person? Even when it was justified. Men probably didn’t feel that way—they weren’t conditioned to always “play nice” and “be soft.” As if denying women their rage made them less likely to be prey. Just the opposite, in fact. She took another gulp of her scotch.
“Okay...that’s a no then,” Renee said, smile falling. “I just thought... I mean, we were best friends for like thirteen years...” Renee shook her head. Looked like she might cry. “Whatever. Never mind.”
Blue made herself impenetrable. She could do that with her mind. Erect an invisible shield around herself that no words—not even best friend—could breach. It felt like a superpower. She wondered if everyone had it. “That was a long time ago,” she said.
Renee winced. “Not that long ago. I still know the name of every crush you’ve ever had, every teacher you ever hated, every band you ever obsessed over. Yes, even O-Town.”
She was clearly looking for a smile but Blue wouldn’t give it. She wondered why Renee suddenly cared so much when she couldn’t have been bothered for twelve years. She’d ask her but then it would look like the answer mattered.
“I also know you love peppermint ice cream and hate the word chunk and that there are exactly nine goldfish buried in your backyard, every one of them named Freddy. You were like a sister to me.”
Blue scanned the restaurant. Still no sign of Maya. She was probably hiding out in the bathroom, texting some random dude, imagining a peace treaty might be drawn up in her absence. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
The waiter appeared with their food and drinks. They retreated into themselves like two boxers into their corners as he set everything on the table. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said as he backed away slowly, sensing tension, and then turned and darted off.
“I don’t know either,” Renee said, defeated. “Forget it.”
An unexpected and traitorous lump blossomed in Blue’s throat. She swallowed it back. Hardened herself against it. “I will.”
Renee was playing with her engagement ring again. She was like freaking Gollum the way she kept gazing at it. She caught Blue eyeing it.
“You know,” she said, “I was always a little bit jealous of you.”
Blue was too surprised and curious to resist. “Me? Why?”
“Oh, I dunno. You were just so much tougher than me. Still are, obviously.”
“I hate that word,” Blue said, surprised by her own disappointment. What had she wished Renee would be jealous about?
“It’s supposed to be a compliment.”
Blue eyed the bread basket with longing. All she wanted was to stuff her face with carbs. “In my experience, people who define women as tough don’t let them be anything else.”
Renee considered that. “I guess I’m just saying that I...admired how you were never desperate about boys the way I was. You never needed to be in a relationship. I don’t even know who I am when I’m alone.”