“Here you go! One large extra-shot latte with oat milk, and one medium Americano, no cream.” She set both cups down on the table. “Your avocado toast will be right up.”
“Thank you,” they both said in sync.
As the server walked away, Emma watched and marveled at her long brown hair and how she looked great in horizontal stripes. The sweater hung below her thin hips, and her long, lean legs jutted out. Emma remembered being that young, that trim. She envied the server’s youth. She would never be that young, or that trim, again. She couldn’t turn back time. Emma’s thoughts switched to her new boyfriend and she smiled. He loved her, and that’s all that mattered.
New York City was chilly this time of year, but the coffee shop was warm. Christmas decorations hung on the walls, miniature fake decorated trees with blinking lights sat on each table, and the windows were fogged with fake snow. They changed the tabletops and painted since she’d last sat in this booth, but the coffee shop still felt familiar to Emma.
Every Wednesday morning, until two years ago, Marie, Emma, Anna, and Jenn met at this coffee shop. This was their favorite booth, tucked in the corner and set apart from others so no one could hear the tea being spilled. The four of them had been inseparable.
Today, it was just the two of them.
Emma placed her cell phone next to her, on the bench. She tucked her long blonde hair neatly behind her ear and removed her raincoat and scarf.
As Marie removed her hat and scarf, Emma noticed she’d let her hair grow out and dyed it dark brown. No highlights. The dark hair made Marie’s green eyes pop. She’d also lost some weight, looking thinner than two years ago.
Back then, they’d both cry over peri-menopausal symptoms and all the fun things that go along with it like sleepless, sweaty nights, weight gain, and a touch of anxiety. And now, in her early fifties, Emma never quite lost the weight. But Marie, she looked great. Damnit.
“You know, I’m allergic to avocados,” Marie said.
“I know,” Emma said. “It’s for me.” An everything bagel, toasted with cream cheese, and split in half had always been their thing. Today, Emma didn’t feel like sharing.
Marie’s eyes looked a little wider, brighter. Her facial lines were smoother. She was sure Marie had work done. “You look great,” Emma said.
“Thanks,” replied Marie, turning her head from side to side. “I had a little nip. A tuck here and there. I had it done last year. Anna recommended the physician.”
And there it was… “Huh!” Emma said, sarcastically. “I never would’ve known.”
Marie sipped her Americano. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“So why are we here, Marie? What’s this about?” Emma huffed. “Why now?”
Marie put her coffee down and leaned in. “I just, well, missed you. You know? I miss our friendship. I miss the fun times we used to have.” She picked the mug back up with two hands. Emma couldn’t tell if the sweat on Marie’s brow was from the radiant heat in the coffee shop or from nervousness and anticipation.
Emma picked her phone up and twirled it in her hand. “I almost didn’t come,” she finally said, breaking the silence.
“I know,” Marie sighed. “But, I’m glad you did.” She’d offered the olive branch. “Thank you for driving all the way here from Kingston.”
Emma’s phone buzzed. She picked it up and started typing. Marie sat and waited. Emma could see out of the corner of her eye that Marie was fidgeting, waiting till she was done typing.
“Why’d you move so abruptly?” Marie asked, trying to make eye contact. “You just up and left. I was hurt you never said goodbye.”
Emma looked up, then straight into her eyes. She leaned in. “Really?” She asked. “You were feeling hurt?”
“Emma, I —”
“Let me finish!” Emma said shaking her head. “You wanted this meeting, so let me talk. “
“Yes, sorry. You were saying?”
Emma sighed. “I’d been thinking about moving anyway. Once you shamed and blamed me in front of our friends, well, moving away was a no-brainer. There was no one keeping me here,” she shrugged.
“That’s why I wanted to meet,” Marie said. She leaned in. “To tell you how sorry I am. Emma, I truly never, ever meant to hurt you.”
Well, you did Emma thought. “Marie, you’re just —”
“Here’s your avocado toast!” The server interrupted.
Emma’s words were going to be harsh, and she thought better of it. She picked up her toast and slowly took a bite, watching Marie’s face. She took a sip of her coffee. She chewed slowly.
“So… how are the kids?”
Marie looked shocked that Emma asked. Emma had been close with Marie’s kids when they were little, but that was then…
“Um…thanks for asking, Marie said, smiling. “Jackson is off to Columbia, finally. He needed to fly the nest,” Marie shook her head, “and poor Gillian, she’s struggling a bit in high school, finding her way. But she’ll get there. Her grades are improving and she just got on the volleyball team.”
Emma nodded. “Well, It sounds like everyone’s doing just great.”
Marie looked down and fiddled with the hem of her blouse, not making eye contact. “Well, sort of.”
“What do you mean?” Emma asked.
Marie sighed. “Shortly after you and I had our… falling out…, Oliver moved out.”
Ha! Falling out! Emma thought. “Wow,” she said flatly. “What a surprise. So sorry for you, and the kids. Did you divorce?”
Emma’s phone buzzed. Another text. She picked it up and started typing again.
“We did,” Marie answered. "The divorce was quick. So yeah, he moved to Yonkers; not far away. He has the kids every other weekend.”
“Charming,” Emma retorted.
Her phone buzzed again. Emma noticed Marie craning her neck to see the text. But she had a privacy screen, so she kept typing.
“Um… do you want to talk about our situation?”
Emma looked up, stunned. “Our situation? It wasn’t our situation, Marie. It was your situation! You were the one who sent the text. You were the one who went there.”
“I know, I know!” Marie said, defensively. “How many times do I have to apologize? It’s been two years! I didn’t mean to send it to you…it was an accident!”
Emma was incensed. “You accused me of sleeping with Oliver! Or at least, fooling around with him behind your back. That was no accident, Marie. The fact that you sent the text to Jenn and me, yeah, that was probably an accident.” Emma’s face got red. “I was tired of the blame game, Marie, and Oliver probably was tired of it too. Maybe that’s why he left.”
“That’s not fair, Emma!” Marie cried. “We had other problems too. Financially, he was a train wreck. And his incessant beer drinking. Dear Lord, it was almost every night.”
Emma just stared at Marie, not knowing what to say.
“You’ve got to admit,” Marie continued, frantically, “he flirted with you every time you came over!” She teared up, pulled a tissue out of her purse, and dabbed her eyes.
Emma didn’t comfort her.
“Oh for God’s sake!” Emma finally said. “He flirted with everyone! Jenn included! Why did you assume that he was having an affair with me of all people? Your best friend!”
Marie opened her mouth to speak, but Emma interrupted. “And you didn’t think Jenn would’ve told me what you wrote? Even if I wasn’t attached to the text? What were you thinking?” Emma shook her head and then put her head down to type another text response.
Marie reached for Emma’s hand, then pulled back. “You two used to work together, Emma, and he always talked about you. Like…a lot!”
“Marie, we worked together on a few projects with a team of other designers. There was never anything between us. Besides, I was nice to Oliver’s face, mostly because he was your husband. He drove me crazy at work. Really? Oliver?” Emma scoffed. “I’d never be his mistress.”
“So moving and ghosting me is how you dealt with it?” Marie asked.
“Yeah, it was,” Emma responded. “I was done with all the drama and how you treated me. I deserve better.”
Marie teared up and looked down at her lap.
“It’s a good thing he’s not in your life, Marie. Good riddance. What a loser.”
Emma’s phone buzzed again. She answered the text.
Marie wiped her eyes and scoffed. “Yeah, good riddance,” she said. “Twenty years of marriage, down the drain.”
Emma put her phone down. “So,” Emma asked, “Who was it?”
“Who?” Marie looked confused. “What?”
“Who’d he cheat on you with?” Emma cocked her head and waited. “Who was the mistress?”
Marie took a deep breath. “Fiona McBride,” she groaned, covering her eyes with both hands.
“The HR Director!?” Emma shrieked. “Oh my God! Well, there’s a bit of irony,” Emma chuckled “considering she drug us through countless trainings on workplace ethics!” Emma laughed. “Although, she certainly could rock a low-cut blouse.”
“Oh God, it’s disgusting. And they’re still together,” Marie added. Her face contorted and she held back tears. “Ugh! I don’t want to talk about it! Like you said, good riddance!”
BING! Another text. Emma could tell Marie was getting annoyed. She kept craning her neck and twisting her hair around her finger. Tick-tickity-tick…Emma’s fingernails flew over the phone.
“Emma?”
“Hmm?” Emma typed away, not paying attention.
“I have to tell you something.”
Silence. Emma kept typing.
“I have a new husband.”
Emma’s head snapped up. “WHAT?”
Marie’s lips turned up into a smile. She straightened, sipped her coffee, and stared over the cup’s lid. “Uh, yeah…ten months ago, we married in New Paltz. It was a small wedding, with just the kids.”
Emma never expected to be invited to Marie’s wedding, even though New Paltz is a stone’s throw from Kingston. Anyway, she would’ve declined.
“How long did you know him? How’d you meet?” Emma was confused.
So, that’s why the facelift, Emma thought.
“We met online,” Marie said. “I know! I know! It’s probably not the best place to meet someone, but he’s great, Emma. He is loving, he has a great job, although, he travels a lot. He’s a Branding Expert. He consults for several companies for their products. And he’s tall! Not like Oliver, that short little shit.” Marie tore her napkin into little pieces, leaving them on the table. She stopped and looked up. “We’d only known each other a few months, but he proposed and I said yes!” Marie smiled. “He’s good for me, Emma.”
“He sounds, uh, terrific!” Emma said. Her phone was blowing up next to her. She silenced it and tucked it away in her purse.
Marie laughed nervously. “Who are you texting, Emma? They won’t leave you alone.”
Emma smiled wistfully. “I’m seeing this guy. It’s pretty new; only a few months, so we’re in that honeymoon phase. We can’t get enough of each other.”
“Wow! Well, that sounds intriguing,” Marie said, “I guess we’ve both moved on then, huh?”
Emma realized she was right. She did move on. “I guess so,” Emma muttered.
Emma took another bite of her avocado toast, and stared at Marie, waiting for the next question.
“How’d you meet your new beau?” Marie asked.
Emma chuckled. She knew Marie couldn’t stand it and needed to know more details. “He works for a medical device company. He’s got clients from Albany to Poughkeepsie. I get the travel stuff, you know, as your husband does. My guy travels a lot too. It’s annoying. Anyway…he wandered into the hotel that I’m managing….”
“Wait!” Marie interrupted. “You manage a hotel now?”
“Yeah, in Kingston. I started after I moved there. The Bellevue. It’s a pretty famous hotel.”
Marie looked out the window. “Hmm…I’ve heard of the hotel before. Recently. Anna must’ve told me,” she said. “Anyway…”
“How would Anna know?” Emma asked. “I don’t talk to her anymore.”
Marie shrugged. “I thought I knew. Never mind. Go on.”
“So..his key didn’t work and he demanded to see the Manager.” Emma raised her pointer finger. “That’s me.”
Marie nodded.
“I helped him out,” she continued. “We got to talking… and laughed a lot. He invited me to dinner. That’s pretty much how it went. We’ve been seeing each other ever since. His eyes are the bluest blue you’ve ever seen.”
Marie smiled. She could relate.
“Aw! What a great story! Serendipitous, if you ask me,” Marie said supportively. “Where does he live?”
“When he’s not traveling? Oh, he stays with his sister in the City,” Emma said, looking around. She tapped her fingers on her thigh, nervously.
Marie tilted her head. “What’s wrong Emma? You look flustered.”
Emma decided to come clean. “Marie?”
“Yeah?”
“He’s married.” Oh shit. Why’d she spill that bit of news?
“WHAT?” Marie cried. “Are you kidding me? Why in God’s name would you get involved with a married man? You said you wouldn’t be anybody’s mistress!”
Emma turned red. She reached for her coat and started to get up. “Woah, Marie! That’s uncalled for! I’m done now —”
“Please.” Marie grabbed Emma’s arm, then softened her grip. “Sorry.” She bowed her head. “I’m listening, truly.”
Emma hesitated, then sat back down. She didn’t quite trust Marie, yet, which was why she should’ve kept her mouth shut.
“Listen,” Emma hissed, “I didn’t know he was married when I met him, and he’s separated. That’s not the same as living with your wife and sleeping around.” Emma sighed. “He’s figuring things out. He’s living with his sister when he’s not at work. And, he’s getting a divorce. He promised me.”
Marie shook her head. She started to fidget, uncomfortably.
“Listen, Marie. I’m accepting your apology, okay? You know I would never betray you with Oliver. Anyway, he wasn’t my type! Too short. I like them tall.”
Marie relaxed. Then she looked at Emma with consternation. “Emma. You must be careful. How can you trust that this guy won’t screw you over?”
“Screw me over? Why? So far, he’s never given me a reason not to trust him. You trust your new husband, right?” Emma asked.
“Of course I do! Well, sometimes I worry,” Marie said. “Maybe I’m a bit scarred from the Oliver fiasco.” Marie hesitated, “When he comes home from work, he can be slightly distant. His clients are demanding and he’s super busy, so I chalk it up to that. I know he loves me though. We’re planning a trip to Europe for next year. Holland, in April. I think it will do us good.”
Emma softened and put her hands on the table. She leaned in. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Marie. It sounds like you two had a whirlwind romance but now you sound happy. I’m certainly happy!”
“And I am happy for you, Emma, truly. He sounds great. Just be careful, okay?”
Emma nodded in agreement. “Hey, I’ve gotta get going. This was a good start, us, getting together. Maybe we can meet up again in a few months.”
Marie smiled. “That sounds lovely. I’d like that.” She paused and then held Emma’s hand. “I truly am sorry, Emma, really, for that text. I blamed you, unfairly, and I feel horrible.”
“I know, Marie,” Emma said. “But please, please look at whom you’re sending texts to before you do that ever again!” They both looked at each other and stifled a laugh.
Bing! “Sorry Marie, hold on a sec.” Emma took the phone out of her purse. She clicked on the text and a huge smile spread over her face. “Oh my God! He’s holding up his divorce papers!” Emma clapped her hands. “Cute selfie!”
“Let me see!” Marie exclaimed, leaning toward the phone. “It sounds like he’s following through with his promise.”
Emma held up her phone. “Yep, he sure did!”
Marie froze. Her face blanched and her head shook, side to side. “What the fuck?” She muttered.
“What?” Emma asked.
She grabbed the phone from Emma’s hand. “What. The. FUCK! Emma!” People in the coffee shop were starting to turn around at the pitch of Marie’s voice.
Emma flushed and then got angry. “Hey! Stop it! Give my phone back! What is your problem?”
Marie stood up and pointed. “That’s Bryan!” She croaked.
“Yeah, I know. My boyfriend, Bryan Jameson! Wait…. What? How the hell do you know him?”
Marie screamed, “That’s my fucking husband!”
“Marie Diane Jameson?” a voice asked from behind her.
Marie whipped around. “What do YOU want?” She bellowed.
He handed her an envelope. “You’ve been served.”
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