Page 89 of Let's Kiss and Tell

“Marsh, trust me, you’d love it,” he says like a salesman on commission. “Isn’t there anything you’ve ever wanted to do but you can’t?”

I ponder this and am coming up short. The idea of doingnothingkind of freaks me out. “I don’t think so. Maybe read more? And I guess I’ve always wanted to travel.”

“You can do that.”

“I don’t need to quit my job to travel,” I state. “I can just take a vacation.”

Jay smiles. “And when was the last time you did that?”

“I’ve been on vacation,” I say.

“When?”

“I went to Italy…”

“Wasn’t that like six years ago?”

“God,” I groan. Julia and I went to her cousin’s wedding in Florence, and now that I think of it, it does feel like a lifetime ago. “Has it been that long?”

“Take the vacation,” Jay says.

“Maybe next year,” I reply. “I just started.”

“There’s always going to be an excuse. You have PTO. You’ve got to take it.”

Our waiter comes and drops off a margherita pizza, a fried oyster po’ boy, and an arugula salad. I reach for the hot sauce and spread it on top of my slice while Jay tells me about plans for his two-month trip to Portugal. “How’s the family?” Jay asks. “How’s Oliver? How’s his kid?”

“He’s good.” I nod. “And, yeah, Sadie. She’s turning six this weekend.”

“Wow, time is really going by fast, huh?”

“You’re telling me.”

Jay starts shaking red chili pepper flakes onto his pizza. “And how are you feeling about Julia?”

As one of my best friends, Jay knows everything that happened between Julia and me. He might be the only person who knows the full story because I needed to talk tosomeonewho wasn’t a therapist.

“I’m feeling okay,” I answer sincerely. “She’s happy—or seems happy at least. But yeah, the wedding is in a little less than three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Jay’s eyebrows rise. “Jesus, she moved fast, didn’t she? Are you sure you’re okay?”

When Julia and I broke up, she moved out almost immediately. I’m pretty sure we ended things on a Tuesday, and she was already living with her sister by Friday. Six months later, I hear from my mom that she’s engaged and we’re all invited to the wedding.

“I’m seriously okay,” I assure Jay. “She’s always wanted to get married, have kids and all of that. She should be with someone who can give her those things.”

“Are you still debating on going to the wedding?” he asks.

I cut our po’ boy in half. “I’ve decided to go.”

“Shit, okay, yeah, makes sense.” Jay takes his share of the sandwich. “The whole family’s going to be there.”

“Yeah, exactly,” I say. “But, uh, I’m bringing someone.”

Jay’s face breaks out into a smile. One so obnoxious I want to throw a fried oyster at him and tell him to shut up before he even says anything.

“Have you been dating?” He beams.

“You know I’ve been dating.”