Страница 4 из 56
“Awwww.” Ro
Where a moment ago she’d been feeling happy and festive, now a lead weight seemed to be pressing down on Je
“I don’t think so,” she admitted, sounding pathetically whiny even to her own ears. If she weren’t so emotionally miserable, she’d be tempted to smack herself upside her own head.
“I’ve tried,” she told her friends. “You know I have. I’ve gone out with so many different men these past six months, I’m starting to feel like my entire life is one of those pathetic speed-dating sessions.”
“And there was no one you’d consider seeing again?” Grace asked.
Je
“Flipped your switch? Rang your bell?” Ro
“Put the zip in your Miracle Whip?” Grace added with a teasing wink.
Je
“What about Gage?” Ro
The mention of her ex-husband, so unexpected and out of the blue, caused her stomach to flip-flop and sent a wave of heat flooding through her entire system. A lump formed in her throat, keeping her from being able to respond… a reaction her friends noticed immediately.
Ro
“Oh, God, I’m damaged goods!” Je
“Honey,” Grace said flatly, shifting until she was closer, too, and they were all hip to hip, arms linked, “we’re all damaged. We all have baggage. Your problem is that instead of being packed up and tucked away in a closet somewhere, your issues are still fresh and raw and strewn all over the bed.”
Je
“Now, I know I can be bossy and opinionated sometimes,” Grace said, “and if you want to ignore me entirely, you go right ahead. But I’m going to say something I’ve never said before. Something I’ve been thinking for a long time.”
The air hitched in Je
“I don’t know if you want to, but I think you need to,” Grace said, her tone brooking no argument.
Reaching for the margarita pitcher, Ro
Grace’s lips, still shaded with the long-lasting gloss they put on her at the television studio, twisted. “Gee, thanks.”
“Okay,” Je
“I don’t think you’re over Gage. I think you’re completely hung up on him being the father of your children, whether the two of you are married or not, and that no other man will ever even come close to filling your extensive mental list of criteria for a DNA donor.”
Je
With a groan, she let her head fall back until the short strands of her dark hair dusted the seat of the sofa behind them.
“So what am I supposed to do?” she asked them. “Go through the rest of my life miserable and childless and alone all because my husband changed his mind about loving me and wanting to start a family with me?”
A beat passed while she waited for one or the other of her closest friends to come to her defense, reassure her, say something, anything to disparage her rat of an ex-husband.
Of course, he was only a rat when she was really mad at him and feeling particularly sorry for herself. Otherwise, she at least had the moral fortitude to admit that he was a decent guy.
Better than decent; he was one of the best. When they’d first been married, she’d thought he was Prince Charming, Sir Galahad, and Superman all rolled into one. It was only later, when he’d started to pull away from her, that she wondered if she’d ever really known him at all.
“Well,” Ro
Je
She was shaking now, her tone edging toward hysteria, as every deep, dark, subconscious fear she’d ever had about the breakup of her marriage reared its ugly head.
“Of course not,” Ro
“And then what?” Je
“And then,” Grace supplied, “we hatch a brilliant and daring plan for your future.”
Je
Sitting around the island in the kitchen, they’d gone through two more large pitchers of margaritas. They’d opted for the lime and then watermelon, mixing in more and more tequila with each batch, while Grace and Ro
Did she want to be single or married?
Did she want to date a lot or just a little? Locally, or maybe online or through a service?
Did she really want a child, and if so, was she prepared to be a single mother?
Did she want to be impregnated by a living, breathing male, or would a test tube sort of deal do the trick?
And what she’d quickly realized-much to her somewhat nauseating chagrin-was that she didn’t want to be a serial dater. The only man she’d ever really been interested in, or could see herself being involved with in the very near future, was Gage. And if she couldn’t have him, then she’d rather be alone.
That particular revelation had come as something of a surprise, considering how hard she’d fought over the past year and a half to convince herself she was over Gage and fine being a happy and independent divorcée.
She really did want a baby, though. She always had. And though she was still young, she didn’t know how many truly good years-or farm-fresh eggs-she had left.