“It’s true,” we all turn as Dory’s voice reaches us from the door. “I am hopeless in the bakery. But,” she grins and lifts her hands, holding a large, cooler between them, “I have excellent relationships with our local businesses and suppliers.”
“Which suppliers?” I ask.
“The fisherman co-op.”
“Oh my god,” Kate turns to her, eyes fixed on the white, styrofoam box, “what did you bring us?”
“Lobsters, oysters, clams, and scallops.” She grins as our collective jaws drop.
“Um,” I turn inside my tiny kitchen, glancing in panic at the limited space, “what do you need to cook all that?”
“Oh, no, they’re all ready. Even shucked the oysters. I just need some plates and fresh lemon, if you have it.”
“Wow,” Christine takes a step back, allowing Dory and her bounty to pass. “What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion,” Dory briefly meets my eyes, “but if there were something to celebrate, we could.”
“Anybody have anything to celebrate?” I ask, carrying plates and silverware to the table with a practiced casualness, my tone deliberately steady.
“One of our big grants came through at the shelter,” Jessica smiles.
“That’s great!” Christine pats her arm. “We got a new grant for the food bank too.”
“Ok,” Dory calmly begins unpacking her box, laying oysters, scallops and clams on my only platter, usually saved for Thanksgiving, and filling my only salad bowl with the cold, cooked lobsters. “So, we’re celebrating grants?”
I feel her eyes on my back and when I look up, Penelope is squinting at me, eyes bearing into mine as she carries the seafood platter to the table.
“The merger in Boston is officially going through,” Kate adds. “That’s cool.”
“What about you?” Penelope is staring at me as everyone comes to the table, glasses in hand, and takes a seat. “What do you have to celebrate?”
“I-” and before I can come up with a reasonable lie, Dory has bumped into me with her lobster bowl. When I turn to steady her, my neck twists and the silk scarf slides to the floor.
“Is that-”
“Do you have a-”
“Who gave you-“
They all speak at once.
Well, so much for that secret.
I glance at Dory. She looks at me with pure innocence. I could throttle her.
I pull out my chair, reach down for the scarf and fold it calmly in my lap as I sit. Dory smiles at me across the table. Penelope grins. Kate, Jessica, and Christine continue to stare.
“It’s a hickey, yes.” I reach for a napkin and pass the bread I sliced to Kate.
“Who’s giving you hickeys?” Jessica asks, accepting the bread without breaking eye contact.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Kate swigs her beer and points at me, “my friend Dawn is stopping by tonight.”
“My hickey reminds you of your friend, Dawn?”
“My goodness,” Christine looks between the two of us. “All the secrets are coming out tonight.”
“Dawn taught me how to apply foundation to cover up hickeys when we were in college. She’s visiting, but didn’t know when she’d arrive, so I told her to just come by. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all,” I shake my head. “Door’s unlocked.”
“Wait, sorry,” Jessica shakes her head. “Forget Dawn. Hickey.” She points to me. “Let’s get back to this. Who’s giving you hickeys?”
Penelope and Dory exchange knowing glances before loudly exclaiming enthusiasm over the scallops.
“Is it a secret?” Christine asks.
“Is it a woman?” Jessica asks and I roll my eyes. Jessica has been desperate to find a lesbian friend for as long as I’ve known her.
“It is not a woman and it is not a secret.” I squeeze a lemon wedge over my oysters. “But it’s…I don’t know what it is.”
“Do you know his name?” Kate asks around a mouth full of Caesar salad.
“Of course.”
“Is it a secret name?” Christine asks, befuddled at my hesitancy.
“No,” I smile and pop an oyster in my mouth, loving the briny citrus flavor as I chew. “It is definitely not a private name.”
“Was it a one-night stand? No shame in those. You need to learn to embrace your erotic nature,” Kate looks at me, and for a fleeting moment I am worried I am going to begin receiving a very different collection of books from her.
Dory and Penelope pass another brief glance towards each other.
“Guys, let’s move on.” Penelope practically shoves the salad bowl into Kate’s face.
“If she doesn’t want to tell us, that’s her business,” Dory says, her voice quiet and steely as always.
“I bet it’s a colleague,” Kate states. Jessica nods.
“Ooh,” Christine turns to me. “That historian? Michael something?”
“Professor Michael Fredrickson?” I shake my head. “No. No hickeys from the History department. Plus, I think he’s in Athens this summer.”
“He’s very good-looking.”
“When did you ever see him?” I ask.
“Your book reading last year,” Dory interjects. “We were all there. He is cute.”
Christine nods vigorously.
“What about the…the…” Jessica snaps her fingers and looks at me, willing me to understand who she means, “the guy in charge? Was it him?”
“The guy in charge? In charge of what?”
“Oh, yeah!” Kate leans forward. “The dean! I remember him!”
“How do you remember my dean?” I ask, genuinely curious at the number of passive, male acquaintances my friends have memorized from my life.
“He was at the book reading too,” Penelope adds, before popping a fork full of salad into her mouth.
“I liked him,” Christine nods.
Kate smiles at her and nods as well, “We all liked him.”
“Oh, maybe it’s-”
The doorbell rings, followed by a knock. Kate leans back in her chair and shouts over my head, “Come on in, Dawn! We’re all in here!”
Another knock.
“I’ll get her,” she stands and tosses her napkin on the side of her plate. She turns before heading to the door and puts her hand on my shoulder, “It’s not your dentist, is it?”
I cannot prevent the lift of my eyebrows. “My married, female dentist?”
Kate shrugs. “Whatever. Just a thought.” She heads to the door.
“I think you should give that Michael guy a
