People You Encounter at a Party When You’re Single
PEOPLE YOU ENCOUNTER AT A PARTY WHEN YOU’RE SINGLE
RACHEL
It was good to be home, though the heat was peak torture. I got back into my familiar summer routine of jumping from air-conditioned room to air-conditioned room and from pool to pool. I was thankful Andrew had not appeared at work since our last encounter, but less pleased that my mother’s icy demeanor had intensified. Thank goodness I could avoid her during our yearly inventory, which she never took part in. This time, she and Henry had taken off for a week to visit his sister on Martha’s Vineyard—a vacation that began the day after I returned.
Cam and I had exchanged a few playful texts since we got back, but I hadn’t seen him since he walked out my door after dropping me off.
And that’s exactly how things needed to be. I felt like I was in the clouds when I was around him, even when he was slathering me with cortisol cream and I was tossing tater tots into his mouth. The image of him inches from my face in the turquoise water, with his shredded arms wrapped around me, was all I saw when I closed my eyes at night. Truth was, I didn’t want him at the cocktail party. I needed a reset. I needed space. I needed to not pine for a man who wasn’t interested in officially dating and who was content to be alone.
Pushing thoughts of Cam away, I applied a special glittery smoky eye, nude lipstick, and donned one of my favorite black dresses with straps that tied in bows at my shoulders. I was feeling a little lost and deflated inside, so I needed to feel good on the outside at least. My heels even had a little black bow on the back.
And who knew? Maybe my Prince Charming would be at the cocktail party after all. Unless the party was only full of frogs, which was mostly how these things went.
Whatever!
I needed a night out! A night with my girls! I needed a night to forget about Cam. And if the party full of unbearable married couples got to be too much, Emily, Laura, and I could always bail and have our own celebration instead.
There’s a certain look your committed friends give you when you arrive somewhere without a date. It’s a combination of sympathy and relief that they’re not single themselves. They don’t mean to be this way, but they tiptoe around you and your datelessness, while at the same time trying to ease phrases into conversation like, ‘I have the perfect guy for you.’ That look abounded at my friend Janie’s house when I knocked on the door and stepped inside.
“Hello, sweetie!” Janie had already had a few shots by then, and I coughed when she wrapped me in a suffocating hug. “You look fabulous! What a cute little dress!”
“Thanks love, you look fabulous as well.”
“Everyone’s out back already,” she said. “Take this with you.”
She handed me a glass of bubbly and kissed me on the cheek before squealing and hugging the next person coming in the door.
I met Janie and her husband Rob through Emily at a gallery opening last year. She stood five foot two and was the kind of friend you’d call if you needed someone’s ass kicked or if you wanted an opinion on how a dress looked on you. Her cocktail parties attracted a variety of Scottsdale’s who’s-who to their Paradise Valley mansion complete with an infinity pool overlooking the valley.
Janie’s backyard looked like something out of a Frontgate photoshoot. A beautiful pool with string lights twinkling from above and cactus containers. I searched the faces surrounding the pool but didn’t see Emily or Laura, who had both texted that they were on their way. Someone tapping me on the shoulder caused me to turn. One of Janie’s party regulars, Skip, and his wife Miranda, stood beaming in front of me.
“Rachel?” Skip extended his hand. “We met at Janie’s birthday party last year.”
“Yes, absolutely. How have you two been?”
Miranda rubbed her belly. “We are expecting our first in five months.”
“Oh, congrats. Boy or girl?”
“Boy,” Miranda said through her bright smile. “We’ve been wanting to catch up with you. Are you seeing anyone now?”
Oh no, here it comes.
“Uh, no, not really.”
Skip and Miranda exchanged glances. “Yay! That’s great. We’ve got the perfect guy for you,” Skip said.
“Totally perfect,” Miranda said.
“Okay, well, I’m not really looking for someone?—.”
“You have to meet him,” Skip said, pulling out his phone. “His name is Gary Ross. He’s an accountant, and he loves cats.”
The photo Skip showed me did not help to further sell this man. Gary looked about fifty, slight frame, balding, with a walrus mustache, reclining in a La-Z-Boy chair with four cats on his lap.
“Wow, yes, he looks like a great guy,” I lied, handing the phone back to him.
“Okay, so he’s been married a few times, but his last divorce is officially final, and we think you two would really hit off,” Miranda said.
“Well—”
“Can we give him your number?”
“Oh, you know, I would, but I’m … I’m leaving the country tomorrow for a while.”
“Really?” they asked in unison.
“Yep, but thank you for thinking of me.”
I slipped in between them trying to find someone I could talk to immediately or else I would have to hide out in the bathroom until Emily and Laura got there.
That’s when I ran into Tina Hemmings. Owner of a rival furniture store and the kind of woman who thinks any single woman at a party is after her husband Bill. Tina thought I was flirting with Bill when we had struck up a conversation at one of Laura’s shindigs. In reality, we were talking about how popcorn with weird toppings is becoming a popular appetizer. I had just finished saying how I think beef tallow popcorn is a stretch when Tina dragged him away by the arm.
“Rachel, nice to see you,” Tina said, narrowing her small eyes. “No plus one still?”
“Not at the moment,” I said, finishing my champagne. “I am on the prowl for any husband left unattended, though, so better stay close to Bill.”
Tina sneered at her husband when he chuckled.
Two more couples stopped to ask me if I was at the party alone. Why can’t anyone just talk to me? Why am I only interesting if I’m with someone?
This party was unraveling into a single person’s nightmare, and that was confirmed when I ran into a group of women in the kitchen who were hogging the champagne stash. These are the women who constantly complain about their husbands and shame them in front of others every chance they get. How they load the dishwasher, that they don’t clean the toilet right, or how they pout when their wives drag them out shopping.
News flash ladies, if your man pouts and sits in a chair while you shop, then he hates being there. Do him a favor and let him stay home.
I stood there for a while watching them laugh and cruelly talk about what morons their husbands were, and then, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Excuse me,” I said, pushing my way to the champagne. “You know, you ladies should be thankful you have someone who puts up with you. None of you would last one day out here on the other side.”
If only I could have taken a picture of their stunned faces. I recirculated, dodged two more attempts at people trying to set me up, and decided that if Emily and Laura didn’t arrive soon, I was going to hit the road.
And that’s when I saw him. He breezed into the backyard, looking handsome as ever and with a beer already in hand. He was my constant, my salvation.
Phil Madden.
Our eyes met across the backyard. Yes, I know that’s cliché, but it really happened like that. He smiled immediately and I ran to him, throwing my arms around him.
“Phil! I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Hey, Rachel! You look beautiful as always.”
I stepped back, finding it strange that he didn’t hug me as tightly as he usually did. “This party is the worst, can we find a quiet spot and catch up or get the hell out of here?”
He opened his mouth, but only laughed awkwardly. “Uh, Rachel …” My heart sank when a gorgeous woman appeared and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’d like you to meet Nikki.”
“Hi,” she said, smiling brightly and sticking out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yes.” I shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“C’mon babe, I want you to meet my friends.” Nikki turned her radiant smile on Phil, who feigned a smile over his shoulder as she tugged him away.
I gulped. Nikki was perfect. Blonde, perky, big blue eyes. I hated myself for turning so green, but I couldn’t help it. As they walked away hand in hand, I decided I had reached my breaking point. My sweatpants were calling to me from across the city.
Of course, Emily and Laura bounded up the front porch just as I ran out like Cinderella about to turn back into a housemaid.
“Hey!” Laura said.
“Wait, where are you going?” Emily asked.
I checked to see when my Uber was coming. “I’m, um, not feeling well.”
“Rachel,” Laura said, touching my arm. “You can’t leave, we just got here. We need to hear all the juicy details about your trip!”
“My ride is here,” I said, hugging them both. “Can we do brunch Sunday?”
“Absolutely,” Laura said, though she looked disappointed.
“I’ll text you tomorrow,” I said, waving goodbye.
I’d never been so thankful to leave a party, but as the car pulled away, another feeling came over me. I didn’t want to go home. My mind was restless and scattered. I was happy that Phil finally got called up to the big dance though I was sad that I had to let him go.
Then again… was I sad about Phil?
No matter how hard I’d tried to avoid thinking about him, someone else still had a firm hold of my thoughts.
I asked the Uber driver to take me to Fifth Avenue in Old Town.
I normally don’t have a sweet tooth at all, but in that moment, I found myself suddenly craving a piece of cake.