Confessions of an Ex-Girlfriend Read Online Free Page B

manager at Bilbo, a pharmeceuticals company where she’d worked since I was a kid, she got to the real reason for her call. “I didn’t want to tell you this on the phone, but I don’t know when I’m going to see you again—” This was another point of contention with my mother, who apparently didn’t believe my monthly treks to Long Island to pay homage to her in her cozy Garden City home were quite cutting it.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” I asked.
    â€œWell, Clark and I have decided…that is, we’re going to get married.”
    Now I must admit that upon first hearing, I was ready to completely disregard this statement. After all, this would be husband 3 (almost 4) and another in a long line of men my mother fell hopelessly in love with and considered marrying. Admittedly one could make the argument that my mother always went into marriage with the best intentions. It was the men she chose who always threw a kink into things.
    There was my father, first of all, whom my mother discovered—after twenty years of marriage—to be a raging alcoholic. “He was always such fun at parties,” she once declared, remembering happier times. Then there was Donald—almost husband 2. After a whirlwind courtship that ended in a trip to Las Vegas to tie to knot, Donald was nailed by airport authorities with a warrant for his arrest…on three counts of embezzlement. Then came Warren, whom I would venture to call my mother’s true love…had their marriage lasted long enough to stand the test of time. After an eight-year courtship—my mother wasn’t taking any chances that time—they were wed in a small ceremony in our backyard, withme standing in as maid of honor. Unfortunately, Warren died of a heart attack within weeks of the honeymoon.
    Now there was Clark. Sweet, lovable Clark, an English professor with a lopsided smile and a fondness for quoting from seventeenth-century metaphysical poetry, a trait my mother found absolutely charming.
    But there was no shrugging off this announcement, I realized, when she began rattling off the details of the ceremony. “…I’m thinking mid-September…a small cruise ship, just the family. Clark and I, of course. Grandma Zizi. You and Derrick. Shaun and Tiffany…” Shaun is my married brother. Married younger brother, I might add. “Clark’s son and daughter and their kids,” she continued. “We’ll take a short sail through the Caribbean to St. Thomas, where Clark and I will be married with the waves crashing in the background and the family standing by. Kind of like a family vacation and a wedding all tied up into one. Won’t that be fun?”
    Loads.

Two
    â€œDon’t knock denial until you’ve tried it.”
    â€”Name and age withheld
    Confession: My breakup has turned me into a pathological liar.
    Â 
    T he following Monday at work, I slid into the guest chair of Rebecca’s cubicle. Though Rebecca is mainly an office buddy, we have been known to make excursions out to local bars for happy hours together, to commemorate a good review or gripe over a particularly menacing co-worker. However, these outings have become few and far between, mostly due to the fact that I have been doing the relationship thing, avoiding all friends other than Jade and Alyssa, in favor of takeout and a video rental with Derrick. Though Rebecca had been with her boyfriend, Nash, for about as long as I was with Derrick, she always seemed to make time for friends, and never seemed to mind the occasional late-night crunch to make a special assignment deadline, even if good old Nash had made them dinner reservations. In fact, I think she prides herself on her ability to be both good friend to all and steady girlfriend to one, which makes me suspicious of her, and somewhat jealous, I’ll admit.
    â€œMy mother is getting married again,” I announced, with some