january
SPAGHETTI CARBONARA
MIXED GREEN SALAD WITH
ROQUEFORT VINAIGRETTE
GARLIC BREAD
BLACK-BOTTOM CUPCAKES
I KNOW SPAGHETTI CARBONARA isn’t exciting, but I thought we could all use some comfort food,” Fran explained to Jaime and Audrey, as they watched her dice shallots.
“I don’t see why we shouldn’t start up the Table for Seven Club again,” Audrey said. “Leland wouldn’t mind us going on. In fact, I think it would make him happy to know that we were getting together once a month and eating bacon.”
“Yeah, that would be a lot of fun for me,” Jaime said. “Two couples and me. We could just rename it the Fifth Wheel Club.”
Fran and Audrey both laughed, and Audrey said, “Trust me, I’ve been there.”
“I know. I’ve only been single for, what? Six weeks? In fact, I won’t even technically be single until my divorce goes through,” Jaime said. She sighed, and took a sip of her champagne.
“What are you going to do about the house?” Fran asked.
“Sell it,” Jaime said.
“Oh, no, that’s too bad,” Audrey said sympathetically. “You did such a beautiful job on it.”
“Thanks, but even if I could afford it, it’s too much work keeping it up. And now that I’m working again, time is not something I have a lot of. I think the kids and I will be happier in a smaller house. It will be more relaxing. More freeing,” Jaime said.
“Good Lord, who are you and what did you do with my friend Jaime?” Fran asked. “The type-A perfectionist we all knew and loved? And, to be honest, also hated a little.”
Jaime laughed. “I was pretty obnoxious, wasn’t I? You-all don’t even know the half of it. I ironed my sheets. All of them, even the kids’. And I had a special labeled shelf for each size set.”
“You did not,” Audrey said.
“And how on earth did you have the time?” Fran asked.
“I did. I never let anyone see my linen closet, though, because I knew it would out me as being a complete freak,” Jaime said. “And I never slept much. Although these days, I can’t seem to stay awake. I went to bed at eight o’clock last night. Do you think I’m depressed?”
“You don’t seem depressed,” Fran said. “If anything, you seem more relaxed. Divorce clearly agrees with you.”
“I don’t know. I’m already tired of taking out the garbage. That was always Mark’s job. And I’ve had some seriously bad days mixed in. But I think I am rallying. Or, at least, I’m trying to,” Jaime said, raising her chin a fraction.
“I think once the word is out among the Ocean Falls bachelors that you’re available, you’ll be snapped up quickly,” Fran said.
Jaime raised a hand, as though to ward off an evil wish. “Don’t even say it. I don’t ever want to get married again. Life is far, far simpler without a man involved. Even if it means having to drag the trash cans to the curb twice a week myself.”
Audrey looked thoughtful and took a sip of her wine. “You feel that way now. But you may change your mind, eventually. Look at me.”
Two heads swiveled to face Audrey, who was taking another sip of her wine.
“Um … do you have some news for us?” Fran asked.
Audrey tilted her head to one side, and then, realizing what Fran was asking, she burst out laughing. “Oh, God, no, I see how that sounded. No, Coop and I aren’t getting married. At least, not anytime soon. I just meant that I always said I had no interest in dating again after Ryan, and life proved me wrong.”
“You mean I proved you wrong,” Fran said. She scraped the shallots into a dish with the blade of her chef’s knife, and began to dice the pancetta.
“What are you talking about? You were against Coop and I in the beginning,” Audrey said.
This was still a somewhat touchy subject that the friends danced around. But they were slowly trying to make it into a joke. The story would be, from now on, that Fran thought Coop was all wrong for Audrey, and yet they fell in love anyway. The part where Fran had thrown herself at Coop, and been rejected, would never be mentioned again, and eventually would be erased from the history of their friendship. Sometimes, a certain amount of amnesia was not only excusable, but necessary for friendships to endure.
“Yes, but I was the one who kept telling you to get back out there,” Fran reminded her. She tossed her hair back, so that the loose curls hung down her back. She glanced at Jaime. “And it’s way too soon to be bugging you about it—you need at least a year to eighteen months to get over your marriage before you’re ready to see anyone seriously—but I’ll eventually get on your case, too.”
“I’ll consider myself warned. But I doubt I’ll ever get married again. I’ll just have a string of hot, young lovers who all worship me,” Jaime said, twirling her wineglass. “And take out the garbage for me.”
“Mmm,” Fran said. “That sounds …”
“Be careful how you finish that sentence. Your husband is now in the room,” Will said, coming into the kitchen with Coop behind him.
“Oops,” Fran said, but she smiled at Will, and he sidled up to her, slipping an arm around her waist.
“I was just showing Coop the battle bot Rory’s building,” Will said. He beamed. “It’s her own design and everything. She takes after her old man.”
“Will’s turning into a stage dad,” Fran informed the group, but she smiled up at him and he kissed her cheek.
“When are you two going to the Bahamas?” Audrey asked.
“At the end of January,” Fran said.
“I didn’t know you were going out of town,” Jaime said.
“It was Will’s Christmas present to me. We’re only going for a weekend—it’s all we could afford, and frankly, we’re sort of terrified about leaving the girls for longer, anyway—but I can’t wait. It’s been a long time since we got away, just the two of us,” Fran said.
“Good for you,” Jaime said. “That’s the one thing I think Mark and I did right. We were pretty good about putting time aside to take trips on our own. But my mom was always willing to come down and stay with Ava and Logan, so we didn’t have to worry about that. Who’s staying with the girls?”
“We are,” Coop said indignantly. “And frankly, I’m a bit insulted that you’re terrified of leaving the girls in Audrey’s and my care. I am Rory’s godfather, after all.”
“Iris’s godfather,” Fran corrected him. “Audrey is Rory’s godmother. And I’m not worried about them, I’m worried about you. You have to look after two hormonal girls and a puppy. I don’t think you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
Fran and Coop had both decided to pretend that the night when Fran went to his apartment didn’t happen. They conversed easily, as they always had, although any flirtatious element that may have been there was gone. Coop didn’t kiss Fran on the cheek when he saw her now, but that was probably all for the best.
“A puppy?” Jaime asked, looking around, as though she’d somehow failed to notice one in the room. “You have a puppy?”
“Didn’t I tell you? I swear, we need to sit down and catch up,” Fran said. “We got the girls a puppy for Christmas. A labradoodle. They named him Homer.”
“After the poet?” Jaime asked, wrinkling her nose.
“No! After Homer Simpson,” Fran said, laughing.
“I thought you said you would never get a dog,” Jaime demanded. “Wasn’t that one of the conversations we had at the dinner party club this year?”
“I did say that. But Iris has been volunteering at the animal shelter and helping to train assistance dogs, so I thought she had proven herself,” Fran said, adding a healthy dollop of white wine to the frying pan. It hissed and gave off a plume of steam. “In fact, Homer came from the shelter. He was dropped off with his mother and littermates, and Iris fell instantly in love.” Fran paused. “I’m just thankful that her first love is a dog and not a boy with tattoos.”
“Where is he?”
“Upstairs with the girls, I think,” Will said. He picked up the bottle of champagne. “Who’s ready for a refill?”
“I am,” Jaime said, holding out her glass.
“Me, too,” Audrey said. She was sitting on one of the high stools lined up by the kitchen counter. Coop moved behind her and rested his hand on the small of her back.
“Anyway, consider yourselves warned,” Fran said. “But don’t even think about backing out on us.”
“We wouldn’t,” Audrey assured her. She looked up shyly at Coop. “Besides, we have a trip of our own to look forward to this spring.”
“Where are you two going?” Will asked.
“Paris,” Audrey said happily.
“Oh, that’s great. Thanks, guy. I finally surprise Franny with a trip, and you find a way to one-up me,” Will said to Coop.
“Hey, I owed Audrey a big romantic gesture,” Coop said. “And all’s fair, and all that.”
“It’s fine. I’d much rather go to the Bahamas than to Paris,” Fran said to Will, patting his arm.
“Then you’re nuts,” Will said, laughing.
Fran began to sauté the pancetta, and its bacony smell filled the kitchen. Once the fat began to render, she added the chopped shallots to the pan. Will got out the mixed baby greens and put them in a big bowl.
“Hon, what else is going in here?” he asked.
“Red onion, goat cheese, and orange slices,” Fran said. “Do you need help?”
“Nope, I’ve got it,” Will said.
“He’s a new-age man. He cooks, he cleans, he’s in touch with his emotions,” Coop teased.
“Oh, hush. You cook, too,” Audrey said. “In fact, aren’t you going to tell everyone what I got you for Christmas?”
“Do I have to?” Coop asked.
“I got him a series of cooking lessons with Juan, the chef at the Lemon Tree,” Audrey said. “And don’t let Coop fool you. It’s exactly what he said he wanted.”
“Well, after a year of exquisite home-cooked meals, I thought it was time I learned how to do something other than grill fish and make hamburgers,” Coop said. He squeezed Audrey’s waist, and the others wondered why she was blushing, but no one dared ask.
“Once he’s had a few lessons, you’ll all have to come over for another dinner party,” Audrey said brightly. She smiled at Jaime. “And yes, you, too. You’ll never be a fifth wheel with us.”
“So the Table for Seven Club continues?” Will asked.
“I don’t think so. Not officially, anyway,” Fran said. “For one thing, we’re five now.”
“And for another, I don’t think I’ll be in a position to entertain anytime soon. I have a lot on my plate right now,” Jaime added.
“No, I think we can do away with the monthly meetings,” Audrey agreed. “But we can still get together for dinner now and again, right?”
“Absolutely,” Fran said.
Jaime nodded her head, and Coop gave a thumbs-up.
Fran beat four eggs in a large Pyrex measuring cup, then stirred in grated pecorino romano and parmesan cheeses, salt, and freshly ground pepper. She drained the spaghetti, which had been cooking in a large pot of salted water, and added it to the frying pan for a moment, before removing the pan from the heat. She stirred the egg and cheese mixture into the pasta, while the others looked on. Fran took a fork, sampled the pasta, and looked up with a smile.
“Dinner is served,” she said.
for Sam
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