Page 14 of This Is Who I Am

Ouch.But I don’t give up that easily. “Have you had enough of my food already?”

“Of course not, but, um… I’m not—” She glances at me, but only for a split second. “Is this… a thing? A date, I mean?” Estelle seems to have lost most of her cool.

I refrain from saying something cheesy like it can be whatever she wants it to be. Instead, emboldened by how much she enjoyed my special menu tonight, I take the direct route. “I’m single, into women, and I like you, so…”

“Oh.” Estelle peers into the amber liquid.

Damn.I read it all wrong. I let her beauty distract me into a state of near oblivion, into someone who misinterprets signals. I’m so out of practice, it’s like I no longer know how this works. Add to that the confusing physical attraction I feel toward her and it’s almost logical I’ve made this mistake. My poor brain is in complete disarray.

“I’m sorry. Can we rewind about five minutes?” I ask. “Can we please do that?”

“We can try.”

Estelle’s probably not even queer—I could have sworn, though. But my gaydar is very rusty as well.

“Obviously, I would love to have dinner with you,” Estelle says, her voice almost a whisper.

“But?” I ask.

“But… I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m not—I shouldn’t be dating. It’s really not on my to-do list. Also, it’s not you. It’s definitely me. I—” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

“Dinner as friends, then?” I say, aiming for casual and missing by a mile. “I’m not exactly prime dating material either.”

“That’s really not what I meant,” Estelle says.

“Yeah.” I take a sip of my drink, letting its burn calm me down. “Although you did witness my hot flash the other day.”

Estelle doesn’t even chuckle at my lame joke. “Is that why you don’t consider yourself datable?”

“I’d be lying if I said that had nothing to do with it, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.” I swirl the ice cubes in my glass. “My ex, Sarah, stopped by a few days ago to tell me she’s pregnant. Our relationship ended a few years ago because she wanted kids and I didn’t.” I pause. “She’s a lot younger than me, and then I hit menopause and, well, things took a turn for the worse rather quickly.”

Estelle doesn’t say anything right away, but her eyes soften with understanding. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m happy for Sarah. She and her new wife, Rose, were in here last Friday, celebrating, although I didn’t know about the pregnancy yet.”

She’s quiet for a beat before asking, “Was it difficult when she told you?”

“No, not anymore. But our break-up was very painful because it made me feel so utterly inadequate. Even though, in my heart, I knew that I had to let her go. I tried to hold on for too long.”

I take another sip of my drink, the warmth of the Metaxa spreading through me, paving the way for this conversation that I didn’t expect to have tonight.

Estelle just waits, letting me decide whether to continue.

I clear my throat. “It’s hard to explain without sounding like a dreadful cliché, especially to someone who hasn’t been through it. But menopause… it changed everything for me. My body, my energy, my… drive. Well, my sex drive most of all.”

Estelle’s fingers trace the rim of her glass. “That must be hard.”

“That’s one way to put it.” And also a great way to extract the good vibe from any conversation.

I consider changing the subject and asking her about what she meant earlier, about why dating isn’t on her to-do list. But I don’t. Not yet.

I roll the glass between my palms. “I gained a lot of weight, too,” I add, surprising myself even more. This is not something I tend to talk about.

Estelle catches my gaze, but she doesn’t say anything.

“It shouldn’t matter, right? But it does. I used to feel strong and assured in my body. Now, some days, I barely recognize myself.” I force a smile. “Not exactly a selling point in the dating world.”

Estelle studies me with the same careful attention she’s given each dish I’ve served her. “I think you look great.”

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