Confessions Of An Ex-Girlfriend. Lynda Curnyn
who always went bigger with each new house he bought, despite the fact that his family had gotten smaller after the divorce. His current house, a sprawling Victorian in Huntington, was a monument to this philosophy.
“I don’t know what I’m doing over Memorial Day. I haven’t decided yet,” I said, anxiety creeping into my voice.
“All right, all right. No pressure. Deirdre was just asking because we were thinking of going away that weekend.”
“Oh.” And here I was worried my father and Deirdre would suffer from my absence at the annual family barbecue. “Okay, well, don’t let me stop you from making plans,” I said, hoping he and Deirdre would go out of town and leave me and my phantom boy friend to ourselves.
We talked for a little while longer before hanging up. Then, with a sigh that descended into a groan, I gave in to temptation and grabbed a photo album off my bookshelf. Flipping to the first photo of Derrick and me that I came across, I stared deeply into his enigmatic eyes looking for answers as to what went wrong. And as I studied his smiling face, I realized that despite all the good times we’d had, our relationship had amounted to a whole heap of nothing. Then I remembered the admiration in my father’s voice when he’d asked about Richard.
Maybe my father had something there. Maybe I should be going for a man with more prospects and a solid career. A man who had made a name for himself in the world and was now looking for a wife to come home to. That’s the kind of man I should be dating. Someone like Richard, where there wasn’t a question of Will He Ask, only How and When.
I called Alyssa, hoping to hit her up for a hot lawyerly prospect. At the very least, I would get a date for Memorial Day weekend. Maybe even for my mother’s wedding as well.
“Why a lawyer?” Alyssa asked when I made my request.
“You say that with such disgust in your voice, Lys. And last time I checked, you were not only living the life of a lawyer, but living with one.”
“I’m talking about you, Em. You never wanted one of my fix-ups before.”
“That’s because I hadn’t realized the value of dating a lawyer until now.”
“Uh-oh. Here it comes.”
“Well, all my observations of the male species over the years have led me to one conclusion: Men will only consider marriage when they reach a certain income level. And assuming most lawyers our age would be just about hitting that comfort mark—or are even likely beyond it—I figure my odds of marriage are better with a lawyer. At the very least, I could argue my way to the altar.”
“Wait a sec here. Back up. Since when are you so gung-ho about getting married?”
“I’m thirty-one years old. I ought to start thinking about it, don’t you think?”
“I’m thirty-one, too, and you don’t see me rushing out to buy a dress.”
“Lys, not to be mean or anything, but it’s a lot easier to be brave about your unmarried status when you have Husband 1 living under your roof.”
“Nothing’s definite between Richard and me.”
“Yeah, but you guys are clearly in—” A twinge of panic shot through me as realization dawned. Something was up. “Wait a sec. What’s going on with you?”
“Oh…nothing.”
“Please don’t tell me you and Richard are on the rocks. You would be destroying my last lingering belief that soulmates do exist. That people can actually follow falling-in-love with happily-ever-after.”
“Everything’s fine, I guess.”
“Lys—”
“Okay. I met someone else.”
“What?”
“It’s not like I planned it or anything.” She never did. Men just fell in love with Alyssa without warning.
“Who is it?”
“Don’t laugh.”
“I promise.”
“Dr. Jason Carruthers.”
Leave it to Alyssa to go from a lawyer to a doctor. “Let me guess…your ob-gyn?”
“Don’t be ridic—”
“Your optometrist? Your dentist?”
“My vet.”
“Your what?” Suddenly my head was filled with images of a scrawny, softspoken man with patchy facial hair. After all, I had never seen a vet who hadn’t eventually turned out to look somewhat like the patients he treated.
“I told you Lulu has been having trouble with her bowel movements? Well, I went to her old vet, except he had retired. And in his place was Jason.”
“Jason? You guys are on a first-name basis already?”
“I know what you’re thinking. It’s just that I never met anyone like him before. And it’s not only that he’s gorgeous. There’s a certain…tenderness about him.”
“Oh God. Don’t tell me. Have you guys—”
“No—no! Nothing like that. I mean in the way he handles Lulu.”
I began to become suspicious. Lulu was Alyssa’s Lhasa apso, the dog she grew up with on the Upper East Side and the last vestige of her mother, who had died two years ago. Alyssa’s father had a fatal heart attack when she was a teenager, and her mom had gotten her a puppy during that difficult year. Alyssa loved that dog as if it were the last family member she had. And Lulu was, really. If you didn’t count me and Jade, of course.
“How is Lulu?”
“Not good. Jason thinks it may be her kidneys.”
Aha. “Well, don’t do anything rash, Lys. Just see this thing through with Lulu, and then look at where things stand. You and Richard have a long history together. That’s not something you should regard lightly.”
“I know. I know. It’s just that…things have changed between us. I…I sometimes feel like I don’t even know Richard anymore. Maybe he’s changed. Hell, maybe I’ve changed.”
“Lys, all I’m saying is don’t do anything—”
“Oh, shit. Got to go. Richard just got home. Listen, Em, let’s keep this between us. I haven’t even told Jade. You know how she can be—and I don’t feel like being ridiculed right now. I’ll look into the lawyer date thing. Maybe Richard knows someone. I’ll call you….”
“Alyssa—”
“Hey, maybe we should all get together for dinner Saturday night? Richard’s going out of town on business, and it’s been a long time since we’ve had a real girl’s night out. Is Jade around? Let’s plan something.”
“That’s fine, Lys, but don’t think I’m letting you get off easy with this one.”
“Okay, okay. I promise I’ll be good. At least until Saturday.”
Three
“Getting married is the easy part.”
—Virginia McGovern, mother of Emma Carter
Confession: My mother’s wisdom is starting to make sense to me (God help me).
T he next day was my planned lunch date with my mother, who was still under the lovely-though-absolutely untrue assumption that her only daughter was on the sure path to happily-ever-after with her own dream man. Though I hadn’t yet decided how I was going to handle the Derrick subject, I headed off to the restaurant she’d chosen near my office, armed with catalogs and travel brochures filled with all sorts of ideas for how to pull off this wedding she was dreaming of.
She was