Page 78 of Dear Debbie

64

HARLEY

Debbie is prompt. I have to give her that.

She shows up at exactly six o’clock. She’s well dressed in a cream-colored blouse paired with a light pink skirt and chunky heels. She looks ready to go to a business meeting, except that her hair has come slightly undone from the bun she must’ve tied it into earlier today. It’s falling in tendrils around her face, and not cute, stylish tendrils. She’s too old to look so disheveled—she can’t pull it off.

“Hi, Debbie,” I say brightly.

“Hi, Harley.” She smiles warmly at me. “Sorry I didn’t bring anything. I’ve been on the road.”

“No worries.”

I lean in for a brief hug, and while she hugs me back, she seems stiff. We’ve gotten in the habit of hugging at the beginning or end of seeing each other, but it feels different this time. It feels like she doesn’t want to touch me.

Is it possible that she knows?

No. She doesn’t know. She wouldn’t come here and smile at me if she knew I was sleeping with her husband. Who would do that?

“Is there anything I can do to help in the kitchen?” she asks me.

I almost suggest that she help me chop the salad, but then I think better of giving her a knife. “No, I’ve got it under control.”

She follows me to the kitchen so I can tend to my pasta and finish up with the vegetables. She stands there for a moment, watching me.

“That’s a lot of food,” she comments.

“Actually,” I say, “I invited another guest to join us. Someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Really?” She looks intrigued as she leans against the kitchen counter. “Who is it?”

“It’s my boyfriend.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Harley! I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Who is he?”

“He’s a great guy,” I say honestly. “I met him at the gym, and we just connected. Like, soulmates, you know? He’s a bit older than me, but he’s really hot.” I wink at her. “We can’t keep our hands off each other when we’re together.”

“Wow.” She blinks at me. “That’s so fantastic. How long have you been seeing him?”

“A few months, but it feels like it’s getting serious. He told me he’s falling in love with me.”

“Oh my gosh,” she says. “That’s so great. I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m glad to hear you feel that way.”

She adjusts her purse, which is still hanging off her shoulder, even though she’s been here several minutes. I don’t know why she doesn’t put it down. “What does your dream guy do for a living?”

“He’s an accountant.”

“Oh!” She looks surprised. “Like Cooper.”

“Right,” I say meaningfully. “Like Cooper.”

I let that hang in the air for a moment. An older guy who does the same job as your husband. Hint, hint.

“Well,” she says, “I’m excited to meet him.”

I rummage around in the refrigerator, coming up with a bottle of oil and vinegar salad dressing. I tried to find the miso ranch at the supermarket, but no luck. “Is this okay?”