Page 52 of February

“No, but–”

“I wear business suits to the office because I have to. I do like them, but I wouldn’t choose them, I don’t think, if I could.”

“You don’tthink?”

“I’m still in my post-divorce self-discovery mode,” she admitted. “I like heels every now and then, but I wore flats out the other night. And yes, I have a designer bag, but that’s because I like nice things and I need to fit in at work. Call me pretentious, if you want, but I’m wearing ChapStick, not lipstick, and I don’t have mascara on or eyeliner, either.”

“As if those are the defining elements of a femme.” Bridgette laughed.

“True. I suppose I’m somewhere in the middle; probably a little like you,” Monica said.

Bridgette nodded but didn’t say anything, and suddenly, they both had French toast in front of them.

“This looks amazing,” Monica noted as she looked up at Bridgette, thinking the same applied to her.

“Tastes even better,” Bridgette replied.

Monica cleared her throat and looked down just as her phone rang in her bag.

“Sorry. Let me just see who it is.”

“No problem,” Bridgette replied as she dove into her breakfast.

Monica pulled out her phone and saw that it was Aaron calling.

“It’s my son. Let me just see what he wants,” she said.

“You have a son?”

Monica winked at her and put the phone to her ear.

“Aaron?”

“Hey, Mom.Lillianis hell-bent on this Columbia thing. Can you please talk to her for me?”

“Don’t call your mother by her name, Aaron.”

“Fine. Mom doesn’t want me to visit Tulane or LSU, but I want to go this weekend.”

“This weekend?”

“Yeah, they’re doing a whole thing for prospects this weekend, and I was going to go. I wanted to spend a day at Tulane and one at LSU.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m here right now.”

“Where?”

“In New Orleans.”

“You’re in New Orleans?”

“Yes, for work. It was a last-minute thing, and I haven’t talked to you in a couple of weeks.”

“Mom, that’s so cool. Maybe she’ll let me go if you’re there.”

‘Oh, I doubt that,’Monica thought to herself.

“She doesn’t want me to go alone but can’t get away from work. I’m eighteen. I’ll be on my own in, like, six months.”

---