Authors: Maria Murnane
The rum punch was also helping her unwind and enjoy herself. Outside of the occasional glass or two of wine (perhaps three on those nights when she’d dabbled with the online dating sites), she wasn’t much of a drinker anymore, and while she had drunk less than her friends tonight, she was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol. However momentarily, the edges were softened, the nerves calmed, the awkwardness of her encounter with Clay soothed.
She smiled, her eyes still closed.
Things are good. I’m on gorgeous St. Mirika with my dear friends and having a really nice time. Who cares if I have crow’s feet.
“Excuse me, is someone sitting here?”
Daphne opened her eyes and saw a slender brunette standing in front of her. She looked to be in her early twenties. She also looked like she was about to cry.
Without thinking, Daphne pushed her purse to one side and patted the empty seat next to her. “Not anymore. Please, sit down. Are you okay?”
The girl pressed her palms against her eyes and sighed. “I’m so embarrassed.”
Just moments ago Daphne had felt intimidated by the age gap between herself and a good chunk of the female patrons at the Castaway, but all that melted away at the sight of this teary-eyed young woman. Her maternal instinct kicked in with a force that surprised her.
“What’s wrong?” She put her hand on the woman’s svelte arm.
The young woman slowly removed her palms from her face, but her birdlike shoulders remained slumped. “I feel so stupid,” she said softly, not making eye contact.
“Why? What happened?” Daphne asked.
The woman didn’t reply right away, but it was clear she was collecting her thoughts, so Daphne waited patiently for her to respond.
After a moment the woman took a deep breath, then wiped a tear from her cheek and began to speak, still without making eye contact. “I met this really cute guy here last night, and he seemed kind of interested, so I was hoping to run into him again tonight. That’s basically the reason I came here, to be honest. Bu
t . . .
bu
t . . .
he’s with someone else. I just saw them together.”
Daphne made a sympathetic face. “I’m so sorry. Men can be so fickle.” Her brain suddenly recalled a similar situation from her freshman year in college. It had been two decades, but she still remembered it vividly because of the anguish she’d felt. She’d had her eye on a cute sophomore in her American history class, and she went out of her way to sit next to him whenever she could do so without being too obvious. After a handful of brief yet flirtatious conversations—mostly initiated by her—he’d asked her over to watch a movie at the off-campus apartment he shared with two buddies. When she arrived, he opened up his refrigerator and offered her a beer, which turned into several, and they ended up making out on the couch until his roommates came home. It was all quite innocent, but it was dreamlike to Daphne. She barely knew him, but their evening together cast a spell over her that left her giddy and literally unable to eat, something that had never happened to her before. That same night she’d begun making plans in her head for all the fun things they would do together—picnics, dinners, date nights, more movies on the couch—all under the intoxicating haze of romance.
The very next afternoon, as Daphne was still floating in the warm memories of his kisses, she spotted him walking arm and arm with another girl—and not in a platonic way. She was crushed.
More than twenty years later, she still remembered what that felt like, how hurt and humiliated she’d been. She also remembered the jarring realization of how quickly she’d begun planning a future with someone who had already left her in his past.
How eager she’d been to find her Prince Charming at such a tender age.
“I’m sorry,” she said again to the devastated young woman sitting next to her in Skylar’s seat.
The brunette gave her a weary smile. “Thanks for being so nice. I’m Janine, by the way.”
“I’m Daphne. And there’s no need to thank me. We’ve all been there. It stings now, but eventually it goes away, I promise.” Daphne couldn’t even recall that young man’s name now. Was it Jim? John? Maybe James? She remembered that it had been something nondescript, and while she’d found him dreamy at the time, over the years both his name and face had been absorbed into the massive blur that was now
the past
.
“Are you here with your family?” Janine asked. “I’m on spring break from Florida State.”
Daphne smiled and shook her head. “Not this trip. I’m with two girlfriends. My daughter’s with her dad this week. I’
m . . .
divorced.”
There
.
I said it. And the world didn’t end
.
Janine’s eyes got a little bigger. “You’re here with two
friends
?”
“Yep, from college actually. We met in the dorms.”
“That’s so cool. I hope when I’m, um, older, that I still do fun things like that.”
Daphne laughed. “I’m not
that
old.”
Janine blushed and pushed a loose strand behind her ear. “Oh, I didn’t mean t
o . . .
u
m . . .
you kno
w . . .
”
Daphne smiled. “It’s fine, really, I’m just giving you a hard time.” She knew Janine wasn’t trying to insult her, and while Daphne
was
feeling quite maternal at the moment, it was clear that Janine viewed her as a mother figure and not a contemporary of any sort. Then again, back when Daphne was in college, she would have thought the exact same thing at the sight of an older single woman at a bar. She probably would have been horrified, to be honest. When she was in college, she thought twenty-five was old. Truly old,
as in
time-to-hang-it-up
old.
She snickered to herself at the memory. How could she have ever thought twenty-five was old?
She took a sip of her drink and looked at Janine. The young woman was nice-looking, there was no denying that, but her little black dress was a little too tight, her makeup a bit too heavy. She’d come to St. Mirika to enjoy her spring break with her friends, but here she was, fretting over a boy she’d just met and would probably never see again. She was trying too hard and wasting her time, but she didn’t know i
t . . .
yet.
She’ll learn.
Daphne remembered how she used to do the same thing when she was younger. She kept barking up the wrong romantic tree and could never understand why it didn’t turn out the way she wanted it to. Over time, with the benefit of hindsight, she’d realized that’s what a lot of young women do. Not all of them, of course, but a
lot
of them. In college Daphne often put so much mental energy into trying to figure out what guys wanted that it never occurred to her to focus on what
she
wanted from a relationship, to consider if the men she was chasing would make
her
happy. Now she understood that it was free spirits like KC and Skylar who were the happiest of all. KC and Skylar never cared a lick about what other people—male or female—thought of them, and finding “the One” at such a young age, if ever, was never on their radar. In college KC was a tomboy who loved to play soccer and wear baseball hats, and she was still that person today, currently on the dance floor and having a blast with a guy a decade her junior who was clearly thrilled to be her dance partner. Eighteen-year-old Skylar was an ambitious honors student who loved to banter with many boys and kiss even more of them, but first and foremost she focused on herself. Now she was running a global sales operation, dating multiple men, and still setting her own rules.
“Where are your friends?” Janine asked Daphne. “I lost mine.”
Daphne gestured inside, then toward the dance floor. “One’s at the bar; the other’s somewhere out there.”
Janine looked surprised. “The dance floor?”
Daphne nodded. “She may have a few years on you, but KC will outlast you
and
all your friends. Trust me.”
“That’s cool. She sounds fun.”
“Yes, KC is definitely cool
and
fun.” Daphne felt a stirring of pride at her friend’s perpetual youthfulness, just as she had during the football game earlier. And, by association, she began to feel a little bit of pride in herself. After all, while not on the dance floor, she
was
in a bar right now. And she
had
played football earlier in the day. She was also enjoying herself along the way. There was definitely something to be said for that.
“How long are you here?” Janine asked.
“Just a few days.” Daphne smiled at her, and while she envied her radiant skin and cascading hair—as she had the young women in the restroom—she didn’t envy the insecurity that emanated from her. With even more clarity, Daphne realized just how much she’d grown up since her college days.
She also realized something else.
I don’t want to be that age anymore.
Instead of mourning the air-brushed memories of her lost youth, she was now seeing that while she’d certainly had fun in that period of her life, it hadn’t been without its bumpy patches, and she was glad it was over. For better or for worse, Daphne now knew who she was at her core, even if she’d allowed herself to stray from it during the time she’d been married to Brian. But her personal detour was a different story, one that she knew she needed to address. Janine, however, was still navigating those internal waters, still trying to figure out who she was.
Daphne had already done that. Now it was time to get her back.
She took a sip of her drink and smiled at Janine. “Actuall
y . . .
we’re all here to celebrate our fortieth birthdays.” She felt a sense of relief as she said the words. She’d stepped across the line, spoken her impending age out loud for the first time.
Janine looked shocked. “Forty? For real? I never would have guessed.”
Daphne smiled. “Thanks. Mine is tomorrow, actually. Kind of hard to believe, but I’m slowly getting used to it.”
“Happy birthday,” Janine said. “Really, you look amazing. My mom’s forty-three, but she looks way older than you.”
Daphne laughed again. No wonder her maternal instinct had kicked in around Janine. She wondered what Skylar would think of her new friend: Where
was
Skylar exactly? She should have been back by now. Daphne craned her neck toward the entrance to the bar but couldn’t see her.
Where is she?
“Oh God, there he is,” Janine whispered.
Daphne turned back to look at the young woman, who was now shielding one side of her face with her hand.
“The guy you were with last night?” Daphne asked her.
Janine nodded, not looking up. “I wasn’t
with
him, but I kind of wanted to be, if that makes sense. I thought we were having fun, you know, flirting and dancing, and we even kissed a little bit, but then we kind of lost each other in the crowd.”
“Which one is he?” Daphne knew men didn’t often “lose” women they were interested in.
Janine kept her eyes averted, her hand still shielding her face. “Tall, green T-shirt, tan cargo shorts. Please don’t be too obvious.”
Daphne casually scanned the dance floor until her eyes rested on the man in question. She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a gas
p . . .
and a laugh. It was Scott. Hot Scott.
Okay, this is bizarre.
There was no question about it: she was caught in a generational time warp. Daphne bit her lip.
Oh jeez.
Out of respect for Janine’s feelings, she tried not to show her amusement at the situation, but she found it prett
y . . .
amusing.
Don’t laugh. It will crush her if you laugh.
“Hey, hot stuff, I’m sorry that took so long.” Skylar reappeared from the crowd, holding a small cardboard box filled with fresh drinks.
Daphne squinted at the drinks. “Did you get a job here?”
Skylar smirked. “The line was crazy long, so I decided to stock up. There’s no way I’m waiting in that thing again.” She smiled down at Janine. “Looks like you made a new friend in my absence. Hi there, I’m Skylar.”
“This is Janine,” Daphne said. “She’s here on spring break with her girlfriends.”
“Nice. I like to think I’m on a spring break with my girlfriends too. You want a rum punch, sweetie?” Skylar held up the cardboard tray.
“Did I take your seat? I’m so sorry.” Looking a bit embarrassed, Janine stood and reached for her purse. “I should try to find my friends anyway.”
“Don’t go on my account,” Skylar said. “We can all fit. Come on, stay put and have a drink with us. You look like you could use one.”
Janine sat back down and gave Skylar a weak smile. “Is it that obvious?”
“Kind of, but then again I work in sales and have a freakish ability to read people.” Skylar sat down and handed Janine a glass. “What’s up?”
“Boy trouble,” Daphne said.
“
All
boys are trouble.” Skylar surveyed the deck. “Is the culprit here?”
Daphne looked at Janine. “Can I tell her?”
Janine nodded softly as she took a sip of her drink.
Daphne shifted her eyes to the dance floor. “Tall with dark hair, green T-shirt, tan cargo shorts. He was kissing Janine here
last
night, but tonight he’s here with another girl.”
Skylar’s eyes followed Daphne’s, then flickered with recognition when they landed on Scott, who appeared to be dirty dancing with a young blonde about Janine’s age. She quickly looked at Daphne and gave her a
Got it
nod. The amused look on her face showed she shared Daphne’s outlook on the peculiarity of the situation. Janine was in knots over the tenuous love triangle, but for Skylar the triangle—make that
square
—was hardly a source of drama. Quite the contrary, and Daphne knew they would laugh about it as soon as Janine was out of earshot.
Daphne stole a quick glance at Janine. She looked sad, disillusioned, and, well, a bit clueless. Just as Daphne had been at her age.
Score another point in favor of being older.
Skylar sipped her drink. “I’m sorry he kissed and bailed, but better that than to
sleep with
you
and bail
, right?” She gave Janine a sympathetic smile, and Daphne again admired her friend’s compassion. Just a few minutes ago Skylar had been planning to put a few moves of her own on the man in question, and here she was comforting a woman roughly half her age about him.