Who Gets the Friends? by Tim Smith Page B

being there alone, but he knew he had to tough it out.
    A woman he didn’t recognize stood across the room, engaged in a one-sided discussion with a man. She was about five-foot-six, well proportioned, with red hair that flowed past her shoulders. She politely smiled at the man who was talking to her and nodded at the appropriate moments. I wonder who she is?
    He moved closer to get a better look and stopped when he was facing her from a few feet away. She glanced at him with light blue eyes that seemed to plead please save me!
    Moving casually, he approached and lightly touched her forearm. “There you are. I was afraid I missed you.”
    The woman smiled. “I was hoping I’d run into you. I wanted to talk to you some more about that thing we discussed the other day.” She looked at the other man. “Would you excuse us?”
    She hooked her arm with Tom’s as he led her in the direction of the bar. “Thank you.”
    “You looked as though you were in distress.”
    She groaned. “You have no idea.”
    “Friend of yours?”
    “Never saw him before.” She looked Tom over. “So you’re the guest of honor.”
    He laughed uneasily. “That’s what they tell me. What’s your name?”
    “Jessica Mays.”
    “Pleased to meet you, Jessica Mays. How do you happen to be at my divorce party?”
    “I’m a friend of Peggy’s. We work together at the hospital.”
    “What do you do there?”
    “I’m a nurse. You work with Doug at the bank, yes?”
    “That’s right. I’m a loan officer.”
    “Must be interesting work.”
    “Not as interesting as what you do. I could never be in the medical field.”
    “Why not?”
    “Science was never my best friend and I hate the sight of blood.”
    They reached the bar. “Can I fix you something?” Tom asked.
    “A rum and Coke would be nice.”
    Tom prepared her drink, then handed it to her.
    She took a sip. “That was an interesting little ritual you and Doug performed. Very symbolic.”
    “Thanks. I thought it was silly.”
    “Why?”
    He took a sip. “The whole closure thing. He thought it would help me feel better, but I think I was doing fine without it.”
    Jessica rested her trim frame against the bar and cradled her drink in her hands. “How long were you married?”
    “Nearly ten years.”
    “And you don’t think that after that much time it isn’t a major adjustment?”
    “No, I agree it’s difficult.”
    “It gets easier.”
    Tom looked at her. “Is that the voice of experience talking?”
    “Mm-hmm. I’ve been on my own for five years, but the first few months were tough.”
    Tom closed the gap between them. “What was the most difficult thing for you to get used to?”
    She sipped her drink. “Not feeling self-conscious going into a restaurant alone.”
    Tom chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that, too. I’ve gotten some strange looks when I request a table for one. Almost like there’s something wrong with me.”
    Jessica rested her hand on his arm and gave a pleasant laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I went through the same thing.”
    Tom peered into her soft eyes. “At the risk of getting too personal too fast, may I ask you something?”
    “Of course.”
    He hesitated a moment. “Are you currently involved with anyone?”
    She looked at him with a sly smile. “Are you really interested or on the rebound?”
    “No, I’m really interested.”
    “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” She took a drink. “Is this where you ask me if I’d like to run away with you to Cancun?”
    Tom laughed. “Whoa, that’s a little fast for me.”
    She traced her fingertip along his hand. “Then why don’t you come out of your shell and ask what’s on your mind?”
    “Okay, I will. I was thinking we could continue this conversation somewhere more private.”
    She laughed. “You can’t leave your own party so soon. Where did you think we’d go?”
    “No one was using the upstairs living room when I came in. Would you feel safe there