Page 4 of The Love Dose
The five of us have been coming here nearly every month for years. It’s a Herculean achievement given all our varying and hectic schedules but each one of us prioritizes this girl time and I’ve never been more appreciative than right now.
The ladies go around the table sharing their updates. Mo is waxing poetic about her next trade show in Paris. She’s a leading designer at a world-renowned interior design firm. Mo tends to her appearance with the same meticulous attention she devotesto the homes of her celebrity clients. At the moment, she’s donning a cream pantsuit that hugs her figure perfectly, paired with a sleek silk tank top. Her hair is swept up in her signature style. I run my usual check for imperfections in her pristine veneer but sadly, I can’t find any.
Mo must sense my scrutiny because she says, “Buy any BMWs or Jaguars this week?”
I hold in my exasperation. It’s a running joke about how bad I am with money. I like to shop, so what? As far as the car goes, it only happened once that I bought a luxury car on a whim. And it was an Audi SQ8. If I’m not mistaken, it’s parked at the beach house in the Hamptons.
Either way, Mo has made it her business to bring it up nearly every time we congregate. She is mocking me and I’m tired of it. Especially given that I frequently cover lunch, hers included.
I point to her mouth. “Is that a piece of spinach between your teeth?” I say, keeping a perfectly straight face.
She blinks rapidly and covers her mouth, sucking on her front teeth before turning to Barbie, whispering, “Did I get it?”
Barbie nods even though there was nothing there to begin with. I only hope Mo will drop a piece of her beet salad into her cream-suited lap.
When it’s Samantha’s turn, she spends it as always on her kids, two teenagers who are giving her a run for her money. That is, if she had any money.
No update is complete until Sam has uttered her ex-husband’s name. She brushes away her limp bangs, offers a slight smile. The lipstick she was wearing when I joined them has rubbed off, leaving her face devoid of any makeup. I would sooner be caught dead.
“Alan stopped by yesterday to drop off a check, can you believe it?”
The rest of us respond in unison. “No.”
The jerk has missed far more child support payments than he’s made. We’ve told her to report the delinquency and request to have the funds garnished from his salary but she won’t do it.
Things don’t come easily to Sam. I’m sure if her kids weren’t used to their lives in the city, she’d move back to Ohio in a New York minute.
While she fills in the, dare I say, boring details—in fairness, we’ve heard this routine before—we all nod, hoping she’s getting the emotional support she desperately needs.
Barbie lifts her glass. “I’d like to make a toast to us. Fifty is the new thirty.”
Barbie is the great equalizer. Ever the peacemaker, she cannot bear conflict of any sort. She and Sam have that in common. Only Barbie has no confidence issues at all.
Evie says, “You realize if we add our ages together, we have two and a half centuries at this table.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Barbie says, and does.
I ask her, “What’s happening with you?”
Barbie twirls the end of her sleek jet black ponytail. Her skin is flawless. Her Asian features are exotic. She turns heads wherever she goes. She’s also the brainiest one of the bunch. Even smarter than Evie though I’ll never say so.
“I’m opening a new office in Queens,” she says.
We all cheer her on.
A graduate of Stanford’s business school, Barbie is career driven to the max. Several years ago, she began her own home care service. She now has over two hundred employees providing therapy services to children around the city.
“I’m also setting a new annual gross revenue goal.” She tells us a number that is impressive even to my ears.
I listen intently to each woman’s life update, keeping my mine to myself. We’re having a lovely time, chatting, imbibing. No one wants to hear about messy lawsuits.
Evie is next in line.
“I already went. And you were all at my wedding. Never been happier but won’t rub it in too much.”
We chuckle. If anyone’s earned a happily ever after, it’s Evie.
“Caroline’s turn,” she announces.
