Page 2 of SEAL Mates

Perfect make-up.

Perfect body.

Perfectly dressed all the time.

The worst part of this was that she was nice. Like really nice. How could anyone be that perfect?

Her.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll be there on Saturday at nine.”

“Your mom and Trent can babysit. So you have no excuse to be late or not turn up.”

Great my mom and her toy boy were babysitting, so I had no excuse not to be late. She missed out the point, I could be busy washing my hair, then again, there were only so many times I could use that, she knew it was a lie.

“And don’t roll your eyes because your mom and her boyfriend are babysitting.”

“Boyfriend, more toy boy.” I corrected her, trying not to sound jealous and failing miserably.

She choked, “There’s only five years between them. I wouldn’t exactly call him a toy boy. Besides I think they are cute.”

It was time to hang up. Yeah, my mom’s sex life was better than mine. I didn’t need her rubbing my nose on it.

“Look, it’s time to watch the reruns of Golden Girls.”

She laughed, “You better be here on Saturday. I want to see you here.”

Then she hung up. Mom was Blanche, as always I would figure out where I fitted in, was I Sophia or Dorothy? Was I the snappy miserable one, or the sensible one? I hated to admit I knew which one I was, but I would watch it and delude myself that I could possibly be Dorothy.

* * *

It was Saturday night, and I managed to squeeze into my black number, which I’d worn so many times I didn’t have enough toes, fingers and nor did my kids to count how many times I’d worn it.

Too many times.

It was starting to be worn out, because I’d worn it so much in the space of ten years. The best ten years of my life, according to Stephanie, she even had a party to celebrate it. I think that was the first and last party that I’ve been to since she held it.

“Good, you’re here. Late, but here!” Stephanie said as she dragged me into her house, and then slammed the door behind me. She was dressed like Madonna from Material Girl, which was cool. As she said, she had a kid and a perfect body due to her spinning classes which she wanted me to go to on a weekly basis. No grown woman should pay to sit on those cycle seats.

And she wanted me to go fit-boxing with her. I went to watch her once and I had a mini heart attack from watching. My legs could never reach so high and as for running, the only reason anyone should be running as if they'd stolen something and they didn’t want to go to jail. I didn’t fit in any three of those categories so as much as she’s tried, I’d always declined her offer to join her in any type of exercising.

“Don’t freak. I told the girls to come and well they came and…”

Before she could even finish her sentence. Tina burst into the hallway. Clearly she was drunk, or surely on her way there.

“Pauline,” she stuttered, and I hated anyone calling me that. I’d told her so many times, but Tina was the type that loved to be heard, and not to hear. My clever way to describe her poor attempt to take note of me, whenever I told her. My name is Paula!

“I thought you were not coming. You’re late.”

Yes, because I was trying to talk myself out of not coming. And it was only twenty minutes late. That was the crap thing about our age group, before it was the party starts from nine and not being the first one to arrive, would be cool. Now, you were expected to come to the party on time, early would be even better. The term you get old and boring wasn’t an understatement, we just get predictable and forget what it was like to be spontaneous, which was a joke coming from me. I was wearing the same dress, I’d worn to my divorce party, in the same house, with the same crowd.

She took my hand, getting a little too close and personal for me. But, I turned to face Steph as she dragged me away from her. She was stalling as she walked behind us. My heart started to pump out of control as I could hear laughter as we were closer to the living room.

I shouldn’t have come, I repeated to myself over and over again as Tina didn’t stop talking from the time she saw me.

“You really need to buy another dress. That divorce party dress should have been thrown out the moment you wore it. I’ve worked so hard tonight, just don’t mess it up and embarrass me.”

I was just about to ask what she was talking about when I realized the room was not only full of two more of Steph’s friends, but three men too. Okay to get a little background on Steph’s friends.

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