Page 21 of My Girlfriend is Not the Father

Jade slumped into the office chair. ‘Honestly, I can’t do this. I really can’t.’ Damn. Her voice was already cracking, which she hated.

All her strength had depleted when her marriage ended. It took over a year for Jade to rebuild emotionally, to regain her power. The nights filled with bawling on the shower floor, hitting her pillow, or drinking one too many glasses of Merlot until the ache disappeared were barely in the rear-view mirror. Every time Elizabeth contacted Jade, her mended heart verged on splintering all over again.

‘Please,’ said Jade. ‘Can you just do this through a lawyer?’

‘We are not those people, Jadey.’

The hair sprung up on her neck. ‘Don’t call me that.’ How dare she resort to the sweet names they used during their marriage? Elizabeth had made her choice. Loud and clear. She didn’t get to use emotional manipulation right now to get Jade to talk.

Funny how during their marriage, Jade was the one begging Elizabeth to talk. Share something, anything, about her feelings. Elizabeth was great talking about work, meetings she had, presentations she gave, the new promotion dangling in front of her face. But never about feelings or relationship issues. Never about the fractures in the foundation of their relationship that teetered on cracking under the weight of their unspoken issues.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. ‘We don’t need lawyers to have a friendly conversation.’

‘This isn’t friendly.’ Jade propped her elbow on the desk and rested her forehead in her palm. ‘Stop calling. Please.’

Hanging up was harder than it should’ve been. She didn’t miss her, exactly, but she missed having someone to come home to. Honestly, she’d been missing someone during the last several years of their marriage, too.

Elizabeth was hyper-focused on her career, and then on becoming a mom. The loneliest Jade ever felt was during her marriage. She pictured them at their shabby-chic white kitchen table, eating in silence while Jade scrolled through hair videos and Elizabeth typed on her laptop. Conversations overflowed with ‘fines’: How are you? Fine. How was work? Fine. How are we handling the plethora of problems in our failing marriage? Fine. A sporadic, kiss-less, few-times-a-year sex life. Sleeping back-to-back afterwards, missing the warmth of her wife’s dewy skin against her chest. Feeling she wasn’t enough – not good enough, or interesting enough, or smart enough, to hold her wife’s attention.

Jade leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling when her cell phone buzzed. She ripped it from her pocket. If it was her ex-wife calling her cell from an unblocked number, she swore she was going to smash it with a hairdryer—

Oh. Lucy. Not Elizabeth.

Some of Jade’s anger faded as curiosity took its place. ‘Hello?’

‘So, wait. You’re a vegetarian from Chicago. Which means you’ve not had a Chicago-style hotdog in, like, fifteen years?’

Lucy had gone completely radio silent the last several days, and now she was calling to ask Jade about hotdogs? The similarities with how Elizabeth would vanish, then return as if nothing happened, weren’t lost on Jade. But … Lucy wasn’t Elizabeth. Lucy was sweet and cute, and a perfect distracting ray of light. And at this moment, Jade was hungry for a distraction.

She lifted her body from slumping to sitting. ‘Closer to twenty years.’

A sound like umphh came through the receiver. ‘And you haven’t had a Chicago-style pizza, either, I suppose. Which is apparently the best thing on earth.’

‘Well, I’ve had it with cheese.’

‘Doesn’t count unless there’s a pound of pepperoni on top.’

‘I beg to differ.’ Jade plucked a rubber band out of the rainbow cup holder and stretched it between her fingers. ‘Is this what you’re doing, sitting at work contemplating the food choices of a native Chicagoan?’

‘Well, I’m on break, at a sandwich shop, so I’m not really at work.’

‘Are you eating pastrami?’

‘I’m trying to be respectful of my new vegetarian friend and not telling you how delicious my lunch is. It’s, um, filled with sprouts and apple slices.’

‘Sprouts and apple slices equal salted meats. Got it.’ Jade twirled in her chair and checked the time. Mrs Dieterman would be here any moment, but this totally out-of-the-blue conversation was springing Jade out of her funk. ‘How did you know I’d be free right now? That I wasn’t with a client?’

‘Oh, that? I installed cameras in your ceiling to watch your every move. Cute outfit, by the way.’ Lucy coughed. ‘Gah. Too stalkery. Super groan. Things I think are funny sound totally wrong the second they fly out of my mouth. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you’d answer.’

Because she hadn’t tried calling or messaging sooner? Because they’d both gone radio silent? Because Jade thought more about their coffee time than Lucy did? Jade wasn’t sure she wanted to know. ‘So … why did you call?’

The sound of Lucy swallowing liquid came through the phone. ‘Earlier today a couple came in needing someone to notarise their divorce papers. It was awkward and awful. At the end, I said, “Hope to see you again soon.” I really said that. Like literal facepalm moment.’

‘Oh man. Miserable for everyone involved.’ Jade clocked the time. ‘And that made you think of me?’ Was she some sort of divorce magnet? Maybe Lucy did have cameras installed here and just heard the belly-churning conversation with Elizabeth.

‘Ha. No. I mean, I thought about calling Drew, but he’s such a dude, and wouldn’t really care as much. I figured I would call you, purge my sin out exorcist-style on your voicemail, and just go from there.’

A knock on the door jolted her upright. Amanda poked her head in. ‘Mrs Dieterman’s here for you.’