Your Perfect Life

Our apathetic server, most likely killing time in between auditions, slaps the bill down on the table and I hand her two twenties before she can escape again. “Ready?” I ask Audrey as I stand up and begin digging through my purse for my valet ticket.

“Need some help?” I hear a familiar voice and look up. “Destiny!” I’m so happy to see her that I throw my arms around her, getting her long curls caught in the strap of my canvas tote bag.

“Nice to see you too, Rachel,” she says, laughing as she detangles herself from my bag. She turns to Audrey. “And you must be the lovely Audrey. I’ve heard so much about you from your aunt.”

“Nice to meet you.” Audrey blushes and looks around Destiny. “Is Aunt Casey here too?”

“No,” she says quickly. “But I’ve been given strict instructions to make sure you find the most fabulous dress ever.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out my American Express Black Card. “It’s all on your Aunt Casey.”

Audrey jumps up and down, squealing. I put my arm around her shoulder and lead her toward the door. I look back at Destiny. “Where to?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Where else? Saks!”

? ? ?

Once the personal shopper has been given explicit instructions on what Audrey’s allowed to wear (no plunging neckline or superminis), Destiny and I settle in and wait for Audrey to model her favorites. “So how’s Casey doing?” I try to sound breezy. Destiny was always too intuitive for her own good.

“Good,” she says casually and I realize I’m going to have to do better than that.

“She’s been talking about a guy at work a lot lately, what’s his name again? Chuck?” I ask innocently, trying to play it cool. I had never mentioned Charlie to Rachel when I was dating him and Destiny only knew because, well, it was almost impossible to hide things from the person who practically ran your life. In fact, I went out of my way to act like it was business as usual for me, murmuring my agreement when Rachel would make a joke about the latest twenty-something I had probably hooked up with. My relationship with Charlie both intrigued and terrified me, and I had been determined to handle it as if it were a fragile, irreplaceable keepsake, until I freaked out that night, throwing it on the ground and stomping it into a million pieces.

“Charlie?” She looks up from her BlackBerry.

“That’s right! Charlie. How are things going with them?”

“Fine, I guess,” she says, her voice steady and guarded, and I fight the urge to hug her for being so loyal. She knew that I hadn’t confided in Rachel about Charlie and even though she didn’t say it, I could always tell by the disapproving look in her eyes that she thought that was a mistake. And now, looking back, I wonder if she was right. Rachel knew me better than I knew myself. She knew everything—every quirk, every secret, and especially every lie I told myself. She would’ve known just the right combination of words to keep me in the relationship. To talk me off the ledge that night I melted down and destroyed everything. But maybe that’s what frightened me. And maybe that’s exactly why I didn’t call her.

“It’s okay. She finally told me about him . . .” I hesitate, looking for the right word. Are they just flirting? Or could it be more, could they be falling for each other? I look down at Rachel’s wedding ring on my finger and remember Charlie’s words. I would marry you.

“Where’d you go?” Destiny snaps her fingers in front of me, her acrylic nails catching the light.

“Sorry. I was going to say Casey told me all about their relationship, that they’re getting close.” I decide I can handle it if they’re physical. It’s the emotional part that I’m not sure I can stomach. “Do you like him?” I add, desperately wanting Destiny’s perspective.

Destiny sets her phone on her purse and I finally have her attention. “I love Charlie. He’s the nicest guy ever. I just don’t know if Casey realizes what she’s getting herself into.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she already screwed it up once. And up until a few weeks ago, I would have bet you a million dollars that she’d never date him again. She was just so closed about the whole thing. Almost traumatized.”

“Traumatized?” I repeat, thinking back to that night. Destiny was right, I had been. I had stumbled home, crawling into a ball with my favorite chenille blanket wrapped around me, and I’d bawled until my eyes were swollen. I’d cried, not just about Charlie, but about where I was in my life—wondering again if I’d made different decisions twenty years ago, what my life would look like. Would it have been better? And when Destiny showed up at my door I wouldn’t tell her what had really happened, just that things with Charlie and me were over for good. I think that even then, I knew I had messed up the best thing that had ever happened to me.

Liz Fenton , Lisa Steinke's books