Dot yelled “Yay!” when the doorbell rang and rushed to open the door to her friends.
“Welcome!” she said, arms wide.
“Sorry we came empty-handed,” Harper said. “I’ll make it up to you when it’s safe to have people over to my apartment. My roommates are so messy.”
“Nonsense. We’re past all that! Come in, come in.” She took their coats and hung them on the coat-tree. Harper and Mary set their bags down on the bench in the foyer.
They traded hugs and air kisses all while coming out of the hall and into the living room. Dot had lit two candles on the mantel and turned the gas fireplace on low. She loved her tidy bright living room and the quirky kitchen with the tiny stove. She’d painted the walls in a creamy ivory and the moldings in a rich camel color. Her grandmother’s paintings decorated the place, including a commissioned portrait of Dot and her younger sister, Anne, set at the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park. In Dot’s mind, it was the perfect place to live, and she had no intention of ever moving. She loved the city and didn’t want to live anywhere else.
“Sit,” Dot said, gesturing to the small sofa. “Tell me everything.”
“You first,” Mary said. “How’s Ryan?”
Dot blinked at her. “He’s... fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yep—I mean, more thanfine. I’m just....” Dot couldn’t find the words.
“Just what?” Mary had great relationship-problem radar. She searched Dot’s face.
“Nothing! He’s great.”
“Oh, now he’s great, not fine?” Harper chimed in. “What’s wrong?”
“Look, I know everyone says this, but it’s not him. It’s me. It’s really just me.”
“So, it’sdefinitelyhim.” Harper tucked stray strands of curly hair behind her ears.
“Wait. Are you going to break up with him?” Mary continued the interrogation.
“Oh gosh I don’t know. No. I mean. I don’t know.” Dot wasn’t ready to say those words. She pleaded, “Could we talk about this later?”
“You’re killing me but... in your words, ‘fine,’” Mary said.
“Great!” Dot said, relieved. “Let’s change the subject. Harper, how’s teaching?” Dot knew it had been a rough transition since her return from Senegal.
“Oh, you know—same old story. You wouldn’t believe how much rich families get away with. Today it was the Laschers. I gave their kid a C-minus on an essay, which he should have flunked, but I was being kind. Then the parents came in to complain.” She switched to imitating Mrs. Lascher’s posh accent. “Oh, Harper, be reasonable. Our helicopter broke down, so Miles couldn’t possibly have had time to do his homework.”
“Wow. My parents would have killed me,” Mary said. “They were old school. The teacher was always right.”
“Same,” Harper said.
“Don’t worry, Harp. What goes around comes around,” Dot said. “They’ll be stuck paying his bills for forever. Then they’ll probably divorce and blame one another for failing at parenthood.”
“Well, I’m not looking forward to the rest of the semester. Ms. Thistlewood will be watching me with her big owl eyes. But also, have you seen this?” She held up her phone. Kai and his Portuguese girlfriend were hawking some new energy drink. They were trying to be influencers.
“Unfollow him, Harper. Here, give me your phone.” Mary tried to wrestle it from her, but she hid it in the cushions.
“I will. Tonight. Or tomorrow.”
Dot and Mary made eye contact. Harper was still mad about Kai.
“Suit yourself. But one day you’ll tell me I was right.” Mary raised an eyebrow at Harper.
“You always are!” Harper snapped back.
“Girls! Let’s have a drink.” Dot poured the wine. Their sushi order from Sugarfish was on its way. Mary had offered to treat after her dad had put an extra $150 in her Venmo account when she’d told him about her evening plans. He texted, “Tell the girls I said to come see us one Sunday for a real meal! Sushi is for the birds. Literally.”