Remy
REMY
Simone
Enjoy your evening with Lin, Melissa, and Nova. I know how excited you are about seeing them.
Simone
And about ordering the carbonara.
Me
Thank you! It’s meant to be one of the best carbonaras in London.
You’re welcome to join us for a drink?
Simone
Remy, that would be my personal nightmare. I’m an introvert who would live as a hermit if it paid well. I cannot just up and meet people socially.
Me
Isn’t that literally your job???
Simone
No, being a fifth (and I must reiterate: unpaid) wheel that is expected to encourage and participate in flowing conversation with three strangers is not my job. Regardless, I’ll be working. Have fun tonight.
Me
You too! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. X
Simone
Then I’d be out of a job. x
What a difference five minutes can make.
I was the first to arrive at Bancone, the Italian restaurant I’d booked for us all, and I could barely keep still.
The event of my ultrasound scan this morning (the photos of which were in my bag tonight) consumed my thoughts all day, but the possibility of seeing the girls tonight provided brief respite.
I’d had my hair done and even pulled out a long black dress from the inner recesses of my wardrobe.
I’d filled all my piercings with silver earrings and decorated my fingers and neck.
I bought new perfume to wear for tonight, one that had notes of amber and wood because I knew Lin would compliment me on it.
I needn’t have bothered.
FUTURE MILFS GROUP CHAT
Lin
I was invited last minute to a work thing and since they paid for me to come here, I feel like I have to go. Rain check?!
Melissa
Felix is stuck at the hospital and Isaiah might be coming down with something. I typed out this message an hour ago but got distracted before I could press send!
Nova
At David’s house tonight anyway so might as well stay in.
Melissa
Remy? Did you get these messages? They’re not double ticked.
Me
Yes, got the messages. No worries! Next time.
I think about how best to leave the restaurant, if maybe I can pretend I’m going to the bathroom and then sneak out, until I realize I’ll need to pay for my mocktail, plus the bottle of prosecco I bought for the girls.
Nova would just walk out and take the bottle with her; Lin would pay but leave it behind; Melissa would ask for the bill, confidently explain to the waiter what happened to the rest of her party, and return the prosecco. I didn’t want to do any of those things.
Then, I think about what Simone would do.
Immediately, I know she would read the messages on the group chat, allow herself to feel sad for a moment, then shrug it off.
She’d order a starter, and then a main, and enjoy a meal alone at the restaurant.
Dining alone was a skill of hers, something she did often and by choice.
People probably looked at her and thought, Poor girl’s been stood up, the poor girl has no friends , but it wouldn’t be a lack of awareness that made Simone stay.
No, it was that she simply didn’t care for the opinions of strangers.
Solitude is a choice you can make, after all.
I push my bum further back into my seat and return my bag to the floor; I take a sip from my glass and read the group chat messages again.
I might have been the only one with the slightest intention of actually showing up tonight.
Melissa would never leave for a night in London if Isaiah was feeling unwell, regardless of whether Felix was home or not.
Was it Nova’s plan all along to spend the night with David?
And it’s 7 PM —Lin’s workday officially ends at five, so she had to have known about tonight’s event by then at least.
I look around the restaurant, at the tables filled with diners talking and laughing. Then there’s me, alone at a table with four place settings.
Simone
You probably won’t see this until after dinner, but I don’t want to forget to ask how the ultrasound scan went today.
I press the record button to send a voice note. “Hey, Simone. The scan went well. The nurse said everything looks good. And the girls all canceled so it’s just me here. It’s fine though—maybe. Not really, but these things happen. Or they do now. Anyway… yeah.”
She doesn’t respond to my message, but the blue ticks tell me it’s been delivered and listened to.
She did say she was working tonight. I think about how she’d react if I told her I’d not only stayed to finish my drink but committed and ordered food, too.
I’m not expecting exuberant pride on her part, but the possibility of a simple nod of recognition is enough for me to ask a passing waiter for a smaller table because tonight I’ll be dining alone.
When the waiter returns to clear my starter away, I plan to ask for the bill because dining out alone requires baby steps, but when he arrives it’s to say, “Miss, your party has arrived.”
I straighten up. “They have?”
He nods and steps aside to reveal Simone.
She’s also wearing a black dress, but one that floats to the ground and covers her shoes; her hair is parted in the middle with half lying across her right shoulder and the other half tucked behind her ear, spilling down her back.
When the waiter leaves, she takes the seat opposite me, and because this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve dreamed her into being, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
“Having dinner with you,” she answers, opening a napkin to spread across her lap. “You said you were really excited about the carbonara, and I didn’t want you to miss out. Although personally, I’d select another dish if I had to explain to a distraught piglet where its mother has gone.”
“It’s a good thing that piglets don’t understand English but taste delicious when smoked.”
Simone purses her lips and lifts her menu. “I’m surprised I still caught you.”
“I stayed to have the bruschetta.”
She looks up at me. “You ate alone?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I hated every second.”
Simone laughs and it wasn’t the response I expected; it’s better.
“The first time is always uncomfortable,” Simone says.
As she turns to her menu I say, “You’re wearing a dress and heels.”
“Thank you for noticing?”
“Is that your… work attire?” I wink and she shakes her head but smiles.
“Yes. I’m meeting him at half past nine.”
“Was that the original time or did you reschedule to come here?”
Simone considers the mains. “I think I’ll have the pasta…”
I reach my hand out to pull down her menu. “Indulge me,” I say. “You came here for me?”
“Question or statement, Remy?”
“Okay, then. Why did you come here for me?”
Simone sighs. She rests her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands; when she looks at me, the candle flame in the middle of our table gives her dark skin a glowy, bronze-red hue.
“Honestly?” she says. “I don’t know why I came.
When you said your friends had canceled, I rescheduled my plans on autopilot.
I kept thinking about how excited you were for the carbonara.
” She blinks, shaking her head again. “I really don’t know how else to explain it. ”
Simone picks back up her menu and I cease all further questioning. After studying it further she says, “I’m going to have the spaghetti alla puttanesca.”
I look up.
“Don’t,” she warns. “It’s too easy.”
I twist and deposit the final unbelievably delicious strands of carbonara into my mouth as Simone swirls her wine, and I can’t help but feel like this is the perfect night to fall in love.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Simone asks.
I shrug. “I might be falling in love. That’s all.”
Simone dabs the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Remy, I am flattered…”
“Prepare to be humbled.” I scoff. “I meant falling in love platonically . You have to admit, me being stood up, you turning up here so I wouldn’t be alone, you wanting me to have the meal I’ve been looking forward to all day? What’s more romantic than that?”
Simone considers this. “I guess you’re right,” she says. “I suppose my first adjective wouldn’t have been romantic.”
“It rarely is when friends are involved.”
“How do you feel about your friends not showing up?” Simone asks. “You don’t have to answer. I’m just intrigued by large friendship groups and how they manage to survive.”
I take a moment to consider her question even though I’ve been asking myself the same one all night, and for the last few months.
“Sometimes I wonder if I made our friendship up in my head,” I begin.
“Not in a woe-is-me way. More my narrative of us, as four women who are so close, whose memories together are spread all over London, and suddenly it’s just all gone?
Ten-plus years, evaporated on the spot. I keep debating whether I’m being overly emotional and that this is an expected part of life, that I’m just supposed to move on.
The girls all seem to be doing exactly that, and it breaks my heart that I’m the only one reacting like this.
I’m the only one who seems hurt and impacted by their absence.
It makes me feel like my friendship wasn’t meaningful enough.
You only miss what you truly loved, right?
” I look away. “Maybe that’s on me; maybe I love harder than I can be loved. ”