Upside Down

She thinks she's ready to date again, now she just has to get past Kate.

She’d known her for . . . well, forever. As far back as she could remember Kate had been a part of her life.

Kate had been there, feeling the same apprehension, the day she’d reluctantly let go of Mommy’s hand and entered the school building for the first time. Kate had been there, just as fired up, when in middle school, she hadn’t gotten invited to the big party. Kate had been there, squealing excitedly, the day she’d gotten asked to prom. She’d walked down the aisle right beside her. Held her hand at the birth of her children. Cried endlessly with her when Daddy passed. Went with her to drop each of the kids off at college. And she’d also waded through the hatred, bitterness, and pain of the awful divorce with her.

Kate had been with her through the darkest of nights, and the brightest of days. She’d been with her every step of the way. Every single step.

Now she stood in front of Kate, once again. Eye to eye. Face to face. "I’ve been alone for five years now."

"I know."

"Five long and lonely years."

"It’s been an incredibly rough time, that’s for sure," Kate agreed.

"Brad, from work, asked me out."

"And you’re considering it?"

She shrugged.

"Are you sure you can trust him?" Kate wondered.

"I think so. I mean, I don’t know him super well, but I’ve worked across from him for two years. So at least I know he can hold a job and is reliable. He seems nice. He makes me laugh. And he’s really good looking."

"But looks aren’t everything. If they were you’d still be married to Lane."

"True," she glanced down at her hand where her wedding ring used to be, then back up quickly into Kate’s pretty brown eyes. "I want to go on the date. I think I’m finally ready. I’m actually kind of excited."

"Okay, well, what are you going to wear?"

"Maybe that green dress."

"No. That shows off the flab on your arms."

"I was going to wear a cardigan with it."

"Why, so you can look like a sausage stuffed into casing?"

"Then how about the red one?"

"The red one?" Kate’s silky smooth lips turned upward into a laugh. "Wow, you’re really desperate for attention, aren’t you? When’s the last time you put that thing on?"

"Years ago."

"Doubt it even still fits. Plus it screams ‘take me to bed.’ Is that what you want? Do you want him to take you to bed?"

"It’s just dinner."

"But most men want more than dinner. Are you ready to sleep with him?"

"No. I just want someone to talk to. Someone to share . . ."

"If you’re not ready to sleep with him, then maybe you’d better tell him ‘no’ to the date."

"But I really want to go. I don’t have to sleep with him. It’s just a first date. Besides, he’s kind of shy."

"Hon, you know men these days. I mean, take Lane for example. One hot woman walks past and he’s drooling all over himself. Five minutes later he’s in the sack with her and leaving his wife of 23 years. Shyness goes down with the pants."

"So you don’t think I should go?"

"I think you should loose some weight first. Might better your chances of being asked on a second date. And your hair . . ." Kate reached out, taking it between her fingers and pulling it out to length. "When was the last time you got your hair done? Or put on some makeup?"

There was a knot forming in her throat as she shrugged her shoulders. "Can’t remember."

"To be honest, I’m surprised he asked you out at all. You’re not exactly a spring chick anymore. You have wrinkles, bags, and sags. And if he’s so good looking, why can’t he get a date with someone who’s actually pretty? What could you possibly have to offer him? Really? You’re not rich, your not smart, and you won’t even sleep with him. Does he know you have 3 kids and a grandchild on the way? Good hell, you’re going to be a grandma! Who wants to date a grandma?"

"I should tell him no to the date, huh?"

"I think you are setting yourself up for failure if you go out with him. You have way too much baggage. He’ll never understand you. He just won’t. Listen, one more lonely night in front of the TV is far better than the rejection he’s going to end up giving you."

"You’re right," she said, even though it caused her heart to ache. "I’ll be better off without him."

"And he’ll be better off without you. Go call him and tell him no."

Stifling back all emotion, she nodded.

And then she turned away from the full length mirror she’d been talking to.

　

By Margaret Chatwin

If you wouldn’t say it to your best friend, don’t say it to yourself.