my silverware and lift him down to the ground, gently nudging him back toward the slider.
“Okay,” Laura begins, “Now what were we saying earlier about Katie and Mike? He told her he was in Chicago, but really he had packed a bag and gone to New York?”
I laugh, snort really. “No, you’re all mixed up.”
“That’s what you told me,” she complains.
As we finish our dinners, I untangle the story and relate the details of my previous evening to Laura.
“Wow, you had your first fight on your second date,” she says in awe. “That must be some kind of record.”
“It might have been our third date actually, but it was our first and last fight,” I reply, surveying the empty food cartons and the brown-colored remnants of sauce now congealing on our plates.
“Do you think he could have gotten confused, saying New York instead of Chicago?”
I shrug.
“You wouldn’t call him? To clear the air maybe?”
“How can I? I still don’t know if he was lying to me or not? Maybe Chicago is just the tip of the iceberg. Maybe he’s lied about lots of things. Maybe he doesn’t even have his own startup business?”
Laura offers me a skeptical scowl. “How exactly did you ask him about the discrepancy?”
“I just asked him where he was last week when we were heading out to our cars.”
“Did you ask him in an accusing tone?
I replay the scene in my head trying hard not to visibly cringe. I’ve already played it over and over again, changing my tone, changing my words, changing his reaction, all for the purpose of a better outcome, to the point where I can barely recall what actually occurred anymore. “I don’t think I was accusing, just clarifying.”
“Explain clarifying.”
“Look Laura, I pointed out to him that in his message he said he was in New York, while at dinner he said he was in Chicago. I probably didn’t hide the fact that it occurred to me he might be lying. I don’t know why he would lie. What difference does it make to me where he was?”
“Unless his web of lies is so tangled, he gets confused himself,” she suggests, either playing along or mocking me now.
“Exactly,” I nod.
“Give me a break,” she laughs.
“The fact is, if he’d made an honest mistake, why did he get so mad at me? He should have realized it wasn’t unreasonable for me to question him. It doesn’t matter anyway. He knows I wasn’t happy when he forgot about our last date. Now I’ve accused him of lying, too. It’s done. There’s no point talking about it anymore.”
Laura nods at me. “He probably thinks you’re more trouble than you’re worth.”
I frown at her as I stand up to clear the dishes.
“Just saying.”
We work together to finish clearing. Then Laura leans against the counter, watching me, while I load the dishwasher. “I think you let past experiences jade you. You expect every guy to be a jerk sooner or later.”
I don’t respond to this. It’s something I’ve thought of myself.
“Speaking of jerks, do you think Mike is gone for good?” she asks.
“I have no idea, but I hate him for putting Katie through this.”
“Some people make their beds.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say. I know what you and Jonathan think. Actually, she admitted to me that she was fooling herself about the state of things with him. I still don’t get it. She’s beautiful and smart. She could be with anyone.”
Laura catches my eye and stares pointedly.
“What?”
She just continues staring.
“You have Mongolian beef on your chin,” I tell her.
Her hand flies up to her face. “Where?” She spins around and goes to check in the bathroom mirror. “By the way, have you heard from David yet?” She asks this casually when she returns, wiping her chin with a tissue, as though she isn’t stepping into a minefield.
“No,” I reply flatly. Then, I remember.
“What?”
“I might have, actually. I got a message last night from a number I didn’t recognize. I forgot to listen to it.”
“Oh, that could be him. Why don’t you check?”
I turn impatient eyes on her. “I will. Later.”
“Fine. Anyway, I was thinking.”
I close the dishwasher and listen.
“Blind dates can be so awkward,” she continues, worrying the collar of her blouse as she speaks. “Maybe the four of us could go out together this weekend?”
I shake my head and laugh.
“What?”
“I don’t even get twenty-four hours notice?”
“For what? To mope and worry. David is a great guy, and someone is going to snap him