“I’d like that, too.” Nina wrapped her free arm around Noah’s shoulder. “Give me your number, and as soon we get settled into our new house, I’ll text you. We can make a plan to meet.”
“Sounds good,” Daphne said enthusiastically, but inside she was already feeling disappointed. She tugged at Sophie to leave.
“And thanks again for being an awesome, honest person,” Nina said as they walked away.
As they headed out the door, Sophie looped her arm through Daphne’s. “That was fun. What a cute girl. Perfect for you.”
“Too perfect. I’ll never hear from her.”
“Why not? She seemed excited about having a new friend to antique with.”
“She was excited about getting her grandmother’s priceless lamp back. Didn’t you hear her? She gave me the old ‘I’ll call you when I’m not busy’ brush-off.”
“Well, if she’s just moving into a new house, I’m sure she’s not lying about being busy.”
“Then why didn’t she offer me her number?”
“Because she took yours. Honestly, Daphne. Stop being so negative. I’m not saying she’ll propose marriage, but why wouldn’t she want to see about a friendship with you?”
Daphne sighed as she started her car. “You have a point there, Sophie. I am being negative, and that attitude has no place on my vision board. Only good energy. Maybe she’ll call when she’s free.”
Sophie patted her arm. “I’ll bet you she will. And if she doesn’t, eh, at least you weren’t taken into custody today.”
Daphne shrugged. “There’s that.”
* * *
As Nina and Noah drove home, she kept glancing at the lamp resting between Noah’s feet on the floor of the passenger seat. She hadn’t realized how much it had meant to her until she thought someone had stolen it. She’d have to tell Daphne the full story behind it if they ever found the time to go antiquing. At the very least she should invite her out for coffee or a cocktail to thank her for turning in the lamp and refusing the reward money—a paying-kindness-forward kind of deal.
“Honey, if that’s bothering you, I can put it in the backseat.”
“It’s okay,” Noah said. “We’re almost home.”
“Thank you for helping me take good care of it.”
“No problem,” he said.
She noticed him staring out the window as though taking in everything he could about his new hometown. He seemed a little too calm for the situation. She couldn’t seem to relax, waiting for his other Nike to drop and for him to have some horrific emotional collapse during which he’d demand to go back and live with his father in Greenwich. She’d been watching for it like he’d been exposed to a contagious disease.
If not now, she supposed she’d learn how the change had affected him by the end of the school year, when he’d have had to say good-bye to all his friends. Maybe she wouldn’t even be able to assess the damage until he started at his new school in September. God, she hoped Zack was wrong.
She sighed out loud after silently scolding herself for stressing over things she had no control over, something she’d promised herself she’d stop doing after leaving therapy.
Noah looked over at her. “Are you going to call that lady?”
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
He shrugged. “She was kind of a nerd, but she seemed pretty nice.”
“Oh, honey. We don’t call people names like that.”
“Sorry. She was nice.”
Nina chuckled to herself. Daphne was sort of nerdy but also super cute. She had sweet brown eyes that made Nina think of warm, comforting things like puppies and chocolate lava cake. Plus, if she could trust her gaydar, they might have more in common than just a love of vintage collectibles.
None of her close friends were gay, a consequence of life in a heteronormative world where her energies had been directed toward work and raising her son. When Lacey broke up with her, she’d told Nina that remaining friends would be too painful and confusing for both of them, compounding Nina’s heartache over losing their intimate relationship. After introducing her to this incredible world from which there would be no return, she’d left Nina to navigate it on her own. How uplifting it would be to have a friendship with a lesbian, uncomplicated by romantic feelings, to rely on and share life’s experiences with.
“Okay then,” she said. “Since you and I are both going to have to make new friends around here, I might as well start with Daphne.”
“Cool.” He nodded and then held up his fist for a bump. “We got this.”
She smiled at him, realizing the best friend she could ever ask for was sitting beside her. “Yeah. I think we do.”
Chapter Five
Several days went by since meeting Nina, but the memory of her jubilant, Caribbean-water eyes as they flickered between Daphne’s and the lamp recurred like a dream she hated to wake up from. She’d checked her phone almost hourly for the arrival of a phantom text that suggested a get-together for that antiques discussion. But when she’d googled Nina just for the hell of it and found her mentioned in a Forbes Magazine “Top 20 Female Executives in the US” article, she’d promptly put her phone away and ceased waiting for that unknown-number notification.
On this day, she sat in the break room at work moping as she nibbled her egg-salad sandwich and googled images of Nina. One was from the company website, another from her LinkedIn profile, and a third from some county woman-of-the-year dinner. What an accomplished woman.
The only coworker she bothered with outside of work, Pascale, joined her at the table.
“What’s wrong with you today?”
“You work here, too,” she said. “Do you really have to ask?”
“What are you looking at on your phone?” He hovered over her as he stood at the microwave heating his lunch leftovers.
“You’re awfully nosy today.” Suddenly, the smell hit her. “Oh, gross, Pascale. You’re really gonna be that guy who microwaves fish in the company lunchroom?”
“I made ahi-tuna tacos last night. They’re awesome. I saved you one.”
“No, thanks.” She fanned the air in front of her nose.
He sat down next to her with his plastic container. “You should talk about stinking up the lunchroom. Your sandwich smells like an old dog farted in here.”
She rolled her eyes as she chased a bite of her sandwich with some potato chips.
“Who’s that?” he asked, pointing to her screen.
“The lamp lady. She’s a bigwig at some health-insurance company.”
“Is that so?” He scoffed. “You should ask her if she can explain why our health plan here gets shittier and more expensive every year. Probably so she could buy a new vacation home.”
“I spoke to her only that one time. She never texted me to hang out,” she added with a frown.
“Of course she didn’t. She’s too busy pressing the flesh with the other muckety-muck one-percenters at the country club we pay for.”
“She didn’t come across that way at all,” Daphne said. “She seemed down-to-earth, really genuine.” She slipped the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth. “Now that I think about it, though, her shoes and purse probably cost more than my car.”