Page 98 of The Boyfriend Hypothesis
“How was your weekend?” Olivia asked Penny cautiously. She left unspoken her real question, which was how Penny’s relationship with Caleb was.
“Crappy,” Penny replied, and everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at her.
“Whoa,” Esther said.
Jinny’s mouth fell open. “I’ve literally never heard you swear before.”
Penny felt like this was an exaggeration. Surely she’d sworn at least once around them. And it wasn’t like crappy was even a real swear word; you could say it on TV. It wasn’t like she’d dropped an F-bomb or anything. Although in her current mood, she just might.
Olivia dropped her laptop bag and purse to the floor. “What happened?”
Penny glanced up at her, then down again. “Caleb went home to see his parents this weekend at the last minute and I’m being a petulant baby about it.” She clutched her knitting bag in her lap the way she used to clutch her favorite teddy bear as a child.
Olivia silently handed Penny her wineglass and sat down beside her.
Cynthia took the seat on Penny’s other side. “Who’s Caleb?”
“Someone I’ve sort of been seeing,” Penny mumbled into her wineglass.
“Whoa,” Esther said again.
“The same Caleb who works here?” Vilma asked, eyebrows lifting in surprise.
“Wait.” Jinny’s eyes widened. “Hottie Barista Caleb?”
Penny felt her cheeks flush and took another gulp of wine.
“You’ve been seeing Hottie Barista?” Esther asked. “Since when?”
“A few weeks,” Penny said.
Esther’s eyes narrowed as they shifted to Olivia. “You knew, didn’t you?” Olivia shrugged and leaned back on the couch.
“I think you should back up and start from the beginning,” Vilma said as she took out her knitting.
“Yes!” Jinny leaned forward in her chair excitedly. “How did you and Hottie Barista become a thing? I want all the gory details.”
Penny filled them in on the entire Caleb saga. The news that he was moving away was met with a chorus of disappointed ohs and sympathetic clucks. When she’d finished recounting their phone call a few hours ago, Cynthia wordlessly passed Penny her own wine to replace Penny’s now-empty glass.
“Why didn’t you tell us all this was going on?” Vilma asked.
Penny stared down into Cynthia’s glass of pinot noir. “I guess because I knew I was making a mistake, and I was afraid you’d talk sense into me. I didn’t want to be sensible. For once in my life I wanted to be insensible.” She looked up at the faces of her friends, relieved to have it out in the open. “Go ahead, tell me how crazy stupid I was.”
“You weren’t crazy stupid,” Esther said. “You were just a regular amount of stupid.”
“What she means,” Jinny said, punching Esther in the arm as she shot her a reproving look, “is that any of us probably would have done the same thing.”
“It’s true,” Vilma said. “I am a happily married woman and that boy is young enough to be my son, but even I would have had to think twice about it.”
Cynthia barked a laugh. “Vilma, you dirty old woman.”
Vilma shrugged as her knitting needles clicked a staccato rhythm. “I’m forty-seven. I’m not dead.”
“Amen.” Cynthia nodded her head. “That Caleb is straight smokin’.” She directed a look of approval at Penny. “When life presents an opportunity like that, you have to go for it.”
“Was the sex good?” Jinny grinned as her eyebrows waggled suggestively. “I’ll bet it was good.”
“So good.” Penny’s face heated at the memory, and she pressed a hand to her cheek. “But it wasn’t just about the sex. I mean, it was, but it definitely isn’t anymore. I really like him. I think I even love him.”
