“Hey, gorgeous,” I answered.
“You have five minutes to give me ten reasons not to cut you out completely when you blew me off almost completely,” she replied.
I drew in a breath.
Then I took far more than five minutes and gave her all I could give her. Everything about me; all my epiphanies, all I was thinking, maybe being an idiot about our friendship, Mom and Dad, Lawr, Conrad, the kids, Martine, Josie and her brood, Alyssa and her brood, Aisling, Cillian, Boston Stone, Bradley…and Mickey.
I’d drained my wine and topped it up through all this talking.
And when I was done, the wine doing nothing, I was tense at her response, which was a shocking, “You got highlights without me?”
“Er…yes,” I replied hesitantly.
There was silence.
“Robin—” I began.
She interrupted me, “Girl, if you were ready to move on, I could be the bestie who moved on with you. I can do havoc. I can also not.”
“I know, but—”
“But whatever,” she cut me off. “I understand where you’re coming from but you knew me before both our lives imploded. You knew you’d get anything from me that you needed.”
She was right.
And I was an idiot.
“I’m sorry, Robin, I was just…I guess in all the rights I was trying to make, I made some wrongs.”
“Uh, yeah you did,” she agreed and I tensed again but found I did it for no reason when she continued, “But whatever. You’re moving on. You got a hottie next door who’s a good kisser and he kisses you. Your kids are finally pulling their heads out of their asses. And I got huge news for you.”
I couldn’t quite believe it because there it was. That was it. I explained, Robin listened and that was done.
Though I should have believed it.
She was right. She wasn’t all about retribution and mayhem.
She was mostly about friendship and loyalty and that started but didn’t stop when the retribution and mayhem began.
In protecting myself I’d overprotected myself.
And once I’d figured that out and admitted it, Robin, being Robin, let that be.
I decided to do the same, settled in, grabbed my wine and before taking a sip, asked, “And that is?”
“I’m moving on too.”
I nearly choked on my wine, accomplished not doing this, and sputtered, “I’m sorry?”
“Get this,” she demanded. “That Pilates instructor my ex-ass left me for left him for a Pilates instructor too. And that instructor is a she.”
I felt my eyes get huge right before I burst out laughing.
“No,” I forced through my laughter.
“Yes,” she said gleefully. “My ex-ass drove his tight body bitch right into the arms of a tight bodied bitch. Isn’t that fabulous?”
“It so is,” I agreed.
“Everyone is talking about it. He’s so humiliated he’s taken leave and is hiding at my ex-house on Coronado.”
“That’s brilliant, Robin,” I told her.
“I know,” she replied. “And I got more.” Her voice changed when she said, “But this might not be so brilliant.”
Oh no.
“What?” I asked cautiously.
“It’s not about me, sweetie,” she said.
My neck got tight. “Your kids?”
“No,” she said quickly. There was a long hesitation before she went on, “You.”
I felt my brows come together. “Me?”
“You’re over him?” she queried softly.
Oh no.
“Yes,” I answered carefully.
“Okay, then, this shouldn’t hurt as much as it would have.”
Oh God!
“Robin, what?” I demanded.
“Had lunch with Helena,” she stated quickly. “She told me her hubs went to a conference. At that conference were some neuros who worked with Conrad in Kentucky. They got to talking and Helena’s Ron mentioned Conrad and Martine and you and that Conrad and Martine moved to Maine. Since these guys worked with Conrad, at this news, they shared that his practice had been warned because Conrad was fucking every nurse in the hospital, leaving them high and dry. One got pissed and filed a sexual harassment suit and that’s why you guys got your asses back to La Jolla.”
I sat on my stool, wineglass in my hand, elbow to the counter, unmoving.
He’d said it was a better opportunity.
He’d said it was more money (and it was).
He’d said not one thing about a sexual harassment suit.
“Worse,” she continued quietly. “They said that happened in Boston too and that’s why you guys went to Kentucky.”
I remained immobile and stared unseeing at the wine bottle.
“I know this seems bad but let’s look at the bright side,” Robin suggested. “If you want to get your kids back, you can dig these bitches up and—”
“Oh, I’ll be digging these bitches up,” I declared.
“What? Really?” she asked.
I had not fought for my kids. I thought I did. I had a good attorney. He cost a fortune. He was a shark, like my brother. My brother was sweet to me. He loved his kids. He loved my kids. But in a courtroom, he was a ferocious lion that showed no mercy.
In fact, Lawr had recommended my attorney.