Chapter 18

Brooke

Karly was my alarm clock.

“Miss me?” she asked, when I picked up my phone.

I groaned, looking at the time.

“Kar, it’s—”

“9:30 a.m., which is pretty late if we’re still going shopping today?”

My gaze flicked to the empty Sunday square on the calendar on my wall.

“We had plans?”

She giggled.

“Okay, not really. I mean, I was gonna ask you, but then I forgot. Anyways, now that you’re up, want to?”

I sighed. Really, right now what I wanted more than anything was to fall back asleep. Considering how weighed-down my mind was from last night, though, that was unlikely anyhow.

“Fine,” I said, “Besides, I can ask your advice.”

“Oh, you didn’t!” Karly cried, “You naughty nurse.”

“Oh shut-up,” I said, with a smile.

“Okay, let’s meet at the market in thirty, okay?”

“Got it. See ya,” I said, and then hung up.

Getting ready took a little longer than usual. Mainly, because I had this strange premonition that I would see either Jake or Mark at the market. With that in mind, I tried picking sexy yet disguise-worthy clothes. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to see either of them or not.

So, it was in oversize aviators and a black wrap cardigan that I met Karly.

“What—are you pregnant?” she asked, in a horrified whisper when she saw me.

“No,” I said, glaring at her, “I just don’t want to be recognized.”

“Did they fire you?” she asked, taking on a sympathetic tone.

“No!” I said, “Can we talk about something else for now, please? I’ll spill later.”

Karly giggled, whacking me on the arm.

“I was just kidding, silly. The hot docs would never fire you—they’re in lo-o-ove with you.”

I stopped walking, crossing my arms across my chest.

“I mean it, Kar.”

She waved her hand and strode into a store.

“Yes, yes, I heard you loud and clear.”

This first shop was a literal warehouse of vintage clothes, with flapper-era dresses, cowboy-esque vests and British-style boots lining the walls top to bottom. The owner was a woman who was pretty vintage-looking herself, with a white mane of flowing hair and a distant smile.

“Try on whatever you like,” she said, “There’s a changing room in the back.”

What the poor woman didn’t realize, was that this was the equivalent of a free-for-all to shopaholics like Karly and I, who squeezed twenty items each into the small room. It was in this chaos—as we were accidentaly banging and cursing each other—that we tried on our mismatched finds.

“You look like a time travel machine from the 60s vomited you out,” she declared.

I looked down nervously at the tie-dye dress I had on, studying my reflection in the mirror.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Nah,” Karly said, with a little laugh, “It’s time travel in a good way.”

I did a little twirl and grinned at my reflection. Maybe I could wear this on a date with...

“Later, I really need your advice, Kar,” I said.

“For sure,” she replied.

She put her hand in the shape of a gun as she shook her booty, watching with satisfaction as her rose fringed vest danced along.

I tried on the rest of the clothes I’d chosen with a single-minded speed. No matter how much I pretended I needed shopping to distract me, what I really needed was Karly’s advice. So, I quickly threw the various shirts, crop tops, vests and dresses on and off, even trying on some of Karly’s rejected ones as I waited. In the end, I’d chosen my 60s time travel machine dress and Karly had chosen two skirts, two tops and a nice little purse.

“I have a problem,” she said, with a sigh, as we made our way to the cash register.

“No,” I told her, shaking my head sadly, “I have a problem.”

And, about half an hour later, I told her just what it was. We were seated on the patio of Byland Garden, with cute mini-croissants, raspberry jam and orange pekoe tea.

“So,” I said, “about Mark and Jake—”

“You mean the hot docs,” Karly said, correcting me with a smile.

“Yeah, whatever. So I took your advice about Jake—it was what I wanted to do anyway.”

Karly clapped her hands together.

“Eee! So, how was it? Good or,” she leaned in, raising a perfectly plucked brow, “great?”

“It was great,” I said, smiling genuinely, “Way better than I’d even expected. He was so gentle and skillful. It was all very sensual.” Leaning in, I lowered my voice to a whisper, “We did it by the Hollywood Sign.”

“What? Why?! NO WAY!” Karly cried.

“Shhhh!” I told her.

Smiling, she lowered her voice.

“Okay, so what’s the problem then?”

“Well, now they both like me.”

“And?”

“I like both of them.”

Karly chewed on the end of a cinnamon stir stick.

“Hm. Okay, I can see how that could be a bit troublesome.”

“A bit troublesome?” I said, eyeing her incredulously, “They were fighting over me in the parking lot a few days ago. There was actual shoving involved.”

“Okay, okay,” Karly said. “That does sound like a problem. But did you talk to them about it?”

“Of course I did,” I said, “I had us all go out for ice cream.”

“And?”

“And it couldn’t have gone much worse. These two guys—best friends and business partners before I showed up—they would hardly look at each other.” My voice wavered now, “You don’t understand, Kar. When I met them, they had been best friends for years—the kind of best friends where you do everything together. The atmosphere at work was really fun and carefree. And now? Now whenever they’re both in the room, the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. I feel like I’ve ruined their friendship—and my work situation, too.”

“Oh, come on now, Brooke,” Karly said, “They would never fire you.”

“Maybe not,” I said, “But it would be just as bad to have to work in a place where one or both of my employers hate me, or each other. I can’t work like that—it’s just too tense and uncomfortable.”

Karly nodded thoughtfully, now gnawing on her heavily glossed lower lip.

“Yeah, I can see why you’re so stressed.”

She sipped some more tea, eyeing me.

“And you really like both of them, completely equally?”

“For the millionth time—yes!”

“Whoa there, cowgirl,” Karly said, holding up both of her hands.

Ripping off a big bite of my croissant, I sighed, “It just feels like I’ve been asked that like a hundred times—by Mark and Jake though, not you. I’m sorry.”

Karly, however, barely heard me, and appeared to be deep in thought. When she finally lifted her head to meet my eye, she was smiling.

“Well, it sounds like there’s only one thing to do.”

“Oh? What?” I asked, with a tingle of excitement at the assurance in her voice.

“Have you heard of a throuple?” Karly asked.

“Huh?” I said.

“Yeah, a throuple,” Karly said, nodding her head vigorously, “It’s like a couple—but with three people. I read about them in a Cosmo article. Apparently, it’s a real thing—and there are some people it has actually worked for.”

I eyed her suspiciously.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” she said, with another nod, “I’ll send you the link.”

“I don’t know,” I said, “That sounds pretty weird.”

“Sex before marriage used to be pretty weird like fifty years ago,” Karly pointed out with a snort, “And now look at us heathens.”

“True,” I said, “Still, the idea seems so—”

“Weird? Yeah, you already said that,” Karly said.

“Okay,” I said, with a rueful smile, “But weird or not, and whether I could actually do it or not is just part of the equation. The real part of the equation—”

“Is whether the hot docs will go for it!”

“Stop calling them that,” I scolded her, “But yeah, basically. Both of them seemed pretty adamant that I make a choice.”

“Well,” Karly said, with a dismissive wave, “Sounds to me like it’s either they both get you or neither does. So if they’re really as crazy about you as it sounds like, you just may have a chance.”

I shook my head, sipping the last of my tea.

“Yeah, a chance to royally piss both of them off.”

Karly raised her tea glass.

“You’ll never know what you can do, until you try,” she said, in an exaggerated melodramatic voice.

“Oh shut up,” I said, flicking her cup with my finger, “You’re just pleased as punch because that banker and you are official, aren’t you?”

Karly smiled slyly at me, then grinned outright.

“How’d you know?”

“Come on Kar,” I said, grinning and high-fiving her, “I’m your best friend. I even know when you’re on your period.”

“Yeah, because I bitch to you all week about it,” Karly said, with a giggle.

“No. Because you’re even bitchier than usual,” I said sweetly.

“Me? You’re the bitch around here,” she said.

“On no, you’re a world class bitch!” I replied, sticking my tongue at her.

An older couple a few tables down shot us a scandalized look.

Karly and I broke into giggles. She mouthed ‘bitch’ at me, while I coughed, rapidly giving her the finger as I did so.

Once we were finished, however, as Karly blabbed on about Dmitry, her hot fun banker, my heart began to hurt. That time just then, us having our ‘bitch’ fight, had reminded me of the old days. The good old days, when I was single and sexless, or just dating. The good old days, when things were easy and simple, when I wasn’t questioning my sanity or my heart every three minutes. The good old days, when I still thought I might stand a chance of finding love and having it work out.

Later that night at home, I looked at the article Karly had sent me, ‘Throuple Brings Love to New Heights.’ At first, I only scanned it, not expecting to take the surprisingly long thing seriously. But after a minute, I found myself reading the whole article—twice. It described a seemingly normal couple—Emma and Todd—except for the fact that David was also in the mix. Despite initially being uncertain about the proposition, Todd had come to accept and enjoy David’s company—and his place in Emma’s bed. The article detailed their fairly mundane yet enjoyable lives—the usual home life chores and travelling. It even suggested that this ‘throuple’ was happier because of their unusual set-up.

“I find that one picks up the slack where the other is lacking,” Emma gushed, “I mean, this way I don’t have to put so much pressure on one man to meet my needs.”

After I’d turned off my phone, parts of the article and lines replayed in my head, the mundane description of their household chores, the interesting and different date nights Emma went on with each. She had cited the preliminary trial period as difficult, since Todd and David had been virtual strangers before she had met David through a poetry course. That really made me think, since Jake and Mark were friends already, best friends, so how hard could it be? Masculine sense of ownership aside, they would have to see that this was the best option for all of us.

As I lay in bed and stared at my dark ceiling, the same thought kept swirling through my head. I really, really hope this works out.