“Of course,” I said. What other choice did I have? Was I going to tell her I was busy, that I had to sit in the basement that night and couldn’t be disturbed?
“Great,” she said. “It will be tons of fun.”
—
I told Colleen about the party, how I was strangely nervous about going. I’d told her all about these girls, so she wasn’t surprised by my hesitation.
“I just don’t know why they’d invite me. It’s not like we really hit it off,” I said.
“Oh my God, do you think they’re going to Carrie you?” Colleen asked.
“To what?”
“Carrie you. You know, dump pig’s blood on you, humiliate you, all of that.”
“Oh my God. You’re crazy. They’re not that bad.”
“Yeah,” Colleen said. “They sound great.”
—
The night of the party, Ash came down to the basement as I was getting ready. “Can I do your makeup?” she said. “I’m in the mood to play around.”
She’d never asked to do my makeup before — as close as we were, this felt weird, but I agreed and sat with my eyes closed while she swept brushes across my face and updated me on everything that was happening with her friends, which meant telling me who was trying to get pregnant and who was having money problems. I mostly just said “Mmm-hmm” as she chatted. When I finally looked in the mirror, I had smoky eyes and a dark lip. “You look so great,” she said, nodding her approval, and I made myself smile and say thank you.
The party was fine. Everyone was friendly, at least to my face, and we all drank wine and bought some jewelry. I was different from these girls, and thank God for that, but they weren’t so bad. Honestly, I’m not sure they even thought about me enough to judge me. But the whole time I watched Ash make her presentation, there was part of me that wondered what she really thought of me, if she wished I wore more makeup, was a little more ladylike, and most of all, if she talked about me the same way she talked about all of the Dozens. I couldn’t shake the feeling the whole night, and I was happy when it was finally over.
—
Matt looked up as I came down to the basement after the party. “Whoa,” he said when he saw my makeup. “Ash did it,” I told him. I didn’t feel like elaborating any more about it, and went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. It took me much longer than normal to wash my face, and I realized why Ash needed to use cold cream every night — it was like stripping paint.
When a friendship ends, people don’t always give it the same amount of thought that they do relationships. With an ex-boyfriend, there are discussions of bad timing or different expectations. But most of the time, friendships end in a different way — slowly, and without declaration. Usually people don’t really notice until a friend has been gone for a while and then they just say they grew apart, or their lives became too different. But as I brushed my teeth that night, I wondered if people ever blamed the end of friendships on geographical differences, the divides that come from being born in different areas, culture clash.
I was exhausted as I climbed into bed. Matt was under the covers, but sitting up with his laptop open, typing away at something. “Did you have fun?” he asked. I lay down and closed my eyes. “Something like that,” I said.
—
A few weeks later, Jimmy and I were on our own for dinner — Ash was doing another jewelry party at a friend of her mom’s and Mr. Dillon had invited Matt out to a steak house. I thought it was weird that the two of them were going out to dinner without Jimmy and said as much to Matt, but he just shrugged like it hadn’t occurred to him.
“He said he wanted to talk about my career and where I see it going. I think he has some ideas for me.”
“He’s sort of an asshole,” I said. “Don’t you think?”
“Not really,” Matt said.
“We’ve been here for six months and he’s never taken Jimmy out to dinner. Don’t you think it’s sort of rude for him to take you?”
“He’s so well connected, Beth. He likes me and wants to help.” There was a tiny bit of pleading in Matt’s voice, like he was asking me not to push the issue any further, and he looked grateful when I just kissed him good-bye and told him to have fun.
I wandered upstairs a few minutes later and found Jimmy on the patio having a beer. “Hey,” I said, poking my head out the door. “What are you up to?”
“Not much. It’s just you and me for dinner tonight, you know.”
“I know. I figured we’d head to Torchy’s?” Torchy’s was Jimmy’s favorite taco place, and he was thrilled that I loved it as much as he did. The only thing they served was tacos — breakfast tacos, fish tacos, fried avocado tacos. My favorite was one called the Dirty Sanchez, and it said a lot about how delicious it was that I was willing to overlook the embarrassment I felt when I ordered it.
Ash thought Torchy’s was gross and Matt just didn’t see the appeal. “They’re okay,” he said once. “Kind of like Chipotle, I guess.” I was appalled at this comparison, shocked that he couldn’t appreciate how great this place was. “It’s my favorite thing about Houston,” I said, and Matt just shrugged. Now whenever Jimmy and I found ourselves alone for a meal, we drove to stuff our faces with a bunch of tacos.
“I was thinking something different tonight,” Jimmy said.
“Probably for the best,” I said, sitting on the bottom of the lounge chair next to him. “I’m starting to blame Torchy’s for my rapid weight gain.”
“Oh stop,” Jimmy said.
“It’s true. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t live here. Texas is making me fat.”
“Beth, that body of yours has never looked better, so let’s cut the self-deprecation crap.”
“Ha-ha,” I said. Jimmy gave out compliments to everyone so frequently, I usually didn’t even notice. But the things he said to me were normally a little milder, more of the “you look nice” variety. I was pretty sure he’d never mentioned my body before in any capacity, and I was trying not to show that it had flustered me.
“I was thinking,” he said, “since Matt’s off having steak and Ash is peddling her wares, that we should take ourselves somewhere nice tonight.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Great. Let’s leave at eight.”
—
We ended up going to a diner-type place, and I was relieved that this was Jimmy’s version of “nice” and that we weren’t headed to a fancy dinner somewhere. The restaurant had an over-the-top fifties theme with jukeboxes and vinyl booths. “I know it’s a little much,” Jimmy said, “but the burgers here are really good.”
We each ordered a cheeseburger, fries, and a beer, which wasn’t any healthier than Torchy’s, and I almost made a comment about it but didn’t want to call attention to the conversation we’d had earlier, like I was fishing for compliments.
A couple walked by our booth, and I saw the girl do a double take when she spotted Jimmy. She backed up and waited for him to notice her before saying, “Jimmy, hi!” She kept looking over at me, quickly, like she was trying to be sneaky. Jimmy took a sip of his beer and said, “Hey, Alexis. How’s it going,” but made no move to introduce us. Finally she put out her hand to me and said, “Hi, I’m Alexis.”
“Beth,” I said.
Jimmy smiled as we shook hands, and I could tell he hadn’t introduced us on purpose. “You haven’t met Beth yet?” he asked her. “She’s Ash’s best friend from DC and the wife of my campaign manager.”
“No, we’ve never met,” Alexis said. She looked slightly disappointed that I wasn’t some secret girlfriend, but she managed to shake my hand and then turned to the guy standing next to her. “This is my husband, Fletcher.” Fletcher gave us a small nod and stood off to the side, making it clear he had no interest in joining our conversation. Alexis stood at our table awkwardly for a few more seconds and then said good-bye.