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“Does that have to mean disappointment?”
“I don’t know. I hope not.” He could hear the smile in her voice and knew both that she meant it and that she’d probably succeed.
Jason turned onto Marsie’s street too soon for his liking.
“Oh, good,” she said. Apparently, she wasn’t hoping to keep up their conversation and delve into the depths of each other’s souls in the middle of the night. “I’m really tired and have a long day tomorrow.”
“Anything good?”
“I’ve got a date.”
Man, talk about a soul crusher. It didn’t even help that she didn’t sound very excited about her date.
“Anyone special?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. I’m feeling like every guy is missing something and I can’t put my finger on what it is, so I don’t even know how to look for it.”
“Yeah.” He felt that way, too, about the women he’d been dating.
“Hey…” She paused, her hand on the door handle. “Do you have Jill’s number? She seems like someone I’d like to get to know better.”
“Sure. I can get it for you.”
“Great. Thanks.” Marsie hopped out of the car and headed down her walk with a wave before Jason even had his seat belt undone. Then she disappeared into her house and her front light went out, and Jason wondered what the hell else he was going to do with his night if Marsie wasn’t around.
* * *
MARSIE CLOSED THE door behind her with a smile. The night had been fun, and not just because she’d won a lot of money. Jason was good to be with. When she was with him, her sharper points seemed…not softer, but less damaging. Like, with him, she could be anything. She could do anything.
She pushed herself off her door and started for her stairs.
That was the problem with the men she’d been on dates with. They never made the world feel limitless.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MARSIE STOOD IN line at the La Farm Bakery and waited to order her pastry and coffee. She also waited for Jill, who was either going to be over five minutes late or possibly wasn’t coming at all. Making friends was a lot like dating, which was probably why Marsie had a limited number of friends.
She had ordered her cappuccino and Belgian chocolate brownie and was walking to find a table when the door opened and Jill sailed in, a flutter of plaid and jeans. The woman must have caught sight of Marsie right away, because she headed over to her, standing in the middle of people and tables, instead of going over to the line.
“I’m so sorry,” Jill said. “I’m one of those rare people who actually grew up in Cary, and I remember when it didn’t have traffic. Which was forever ago.”
“Yeah,” Marsie said, caught up in the wake of the woman like she had been caught up in her hug. “Is this seat okay?”
“Great. Let me go get my coffee and something to munch on.”
Marsie sat, then heard her name called out and turned. “Hi, Beck,” she said to her friend, who was walking up to her. “What are you doing here?”
“Meeting Neil. He just left. This was a good neutral place to talk about next steps for the end of our marriage.” Beck’s face was cheery, but there was a hard edge to her voice—a dead giveaway that she’d been faking being okay for too long.
“Oh, Beck, I’m sorry.”
Her friend waved away the sympathy. “It’s okay,” she said, then shook her head. “No, it’s not okay, but it will be okay. This is all part of the process. One step at a time.” Her friend sounded like she was repeating what she’d heard in therapy, but wasn’t sure she believed it yet.
“So what is next?”
“Separation agreements. Which means divorce lawyers and more fighting. He already has one. Protection, he called it. In case I get nasty.”
Marsie couldn’t imagine Beck being nasty, but neither could she imagine Beck and Neil divorced. The world was full of possibility; she only needed to open her mind to all of them.
Easier said than done and better done with something cheerier than her best friend’s divorce.
“Hey,” Jill said from behind Marsie. “I’m Jill.”
