TWO
“You are not going to believe what happened last night,” Megan said to Rachel.
They were sitting at a small wrought-iron table at their favorite café, a bistro with a tiny garden out back; a sanctuary away from the crowded Manhattan streets. Rachel sipped her coffee and bit into her turkey wrap as she waited for her friend to go into detail.
“After working all day,” Megan continued, “I get this email asking me to stay late to take a class of thirty, so of course, I accept. Only thing is, the time for the class comes and goes. Then one guy shows up. One.”
“Oh wait. Let me guess,” Rachel said, putting down her wrap so she could illustrate her point with her hands. “And he just happens to be the most gorgeous man in the world who can dance like he’s taken lessons for years and, oh yeah, who just so happens to be rich.” She sighed and took a long sip of her coffee.
“Well…” Megan took a bite of her salad, crunching the walnuts and savoring the chicken and crisp greens as she considered how to answer. “Actually, you were pretty much dead on, there.”
Rachel’s mouth hung open as she shook her head and grinned. “No. Way.”
“He was gorgeous, and he picked up the moves very, very fast. You forgot the part about him having a sexy accent, though. Oh, and based on the way he was dressed and the fact that he paid enough for a hundred students without batting an eyelid, I’d guess he probably is loaded.” She let out a wistful sigh. “He could be my dream man.”
“Except…?” Rachel leaned forward.
“Except the reason he came for a lesson was so he could be ready for his wedding in a few weeks’ time.”
Rachel’s hands flew into the air. “Of course. That’s how it always goes. Meet the perfect man, then sure enough, find out that some lucky woman figured out he was perfect long before you even met him.”
Megan smiled ruefully as her gaze drifted to the next table; the couple sitting there seemed to be hopelessly in love. They gazed longingly into each other’s eyes, hands reaching across the table to clasp together. Was it so wrong for her to want that? To want someone to look at her like she was the most beautiful woman in the world? To spend hours talking and sharing ideas and passions. To love and be loved.
“I’m giving him another lesson tonight,” Megan said.
Rachel nodded. “Hey, if you can’t have him for the rest of your life, might as well have him for another night.”
“I guess.” Megan sighed again. “You’re so lucky.”
“Thanks for the reminder. Sometimes I don’t feel it.” Rachel rubbed her back and twisted in a stretch, letting her hand fall to her round stomach. “This baby is going to kill me if she doesn’t get out soon.”
“Maybe I should have a baby. Do it on my own…”
Rachel reached over and covered Megan’s hand with hers. “If anyone could pull it off, it would be you, Meg. I can see you with a little girl in a pink tutu, sitting in the corner of your studio, playing with dolls while the nanny watches to make sure she doesn’t interfere with her mommy’s teaching. Yup. That could totally work.”
“There are lots of single parents these days, right?”
“Yeah. I don’t know how they do it, but they do. I’d be freaking out if I didn’t have Matt to talk me down, but you’re not like me. You wouldn’t need a man.”
“No.” Megan looked over at the couple again. “But I want one. I want the cute little family and the married life. I just don’t know if I want to wait until I have that before I have a child. What if I don’t find someone until it’s too late?”
“Women have babies in their thirties and forties all the time, you know.”
“I know. And it’s not that I wouldn’t do that, but I’m already just two years from thirty. If I haven’t found my husband by now, why should I think I’ll find someone in the next few years?”
“Well,” Rachel said, taking another sip of her coffee. “You never know when magic will strike. You could meet him today. Or tomorrow. Or maybe your dreamy dancer guy will wake up and realize you’re the love of his life.”
Megan laughed. “Oh sure, right. After one dance lesson.”
“Never know. Maybe his fiancée will get hit by a bus.”
“Rachel!”
“What? I’m not saying you’d be driving it or anything. If fate wants it to be, it shall be.”
“Fate hates me,” Megan said, shoving the last forkful of salad into her mouth.