Aaron grabbed a notepad and pen off the counter with a laugh.
“Having sex is not the same as getting a life. And when did you start this list?” I asked.
“About three seconds ago. And you could try for both things at the same time.” Felicia told Aaron to take notes, and he wrote Nay’s To-Do: and 1. Sex with a stranger at the top of a blank page.
“I know you. You’re a list-maker. What else?” She looked up at me, eyes bright.
I made a grab for the paper, but Aaron snatched it back. “My life is fine. I don’t need a list.” Except that all I do is work and I might be about to lose my job.
The two of them shared another glance. “Nay, we’re the only people you hang out with. Humor us.” Aaron scratched out his notes. “You’ll need to work up to sex, though. I’ll move it lower on the list.”
I rolled my eyes, deciding to play along. “Okay, I could stand to get out of my rut. How about ‘try new things’？” Maybe that Cuban place around the corner or joining a book club.
He jotted it down. “Flirt. Let a guy buy you a drink.”
“This sounds like an instruction manual from the fifties on how to land a man.”
“You don’t need to land a man, just to board one,” Felicia said, eyeing my sweater set. “And I think you might consider dressing more your age.”
“What’s wrong with my clothes?” I glanced down at the plum-colored, loose-fitting top and khaki pants.
“Nothing’s wrong with them, but you never look comfortable wearing them, and there’s no way those are your size.”
I shied away from revealing or tight-fitting clothes. Wear shapeless sweaters and pants a size or two too big, and colleagues don’t accuse you of being a slut. Unless your ex already told them you were.
Aaron read through the notes in his jagged script. “This is good. Stop dressing like you’re on your way to bingo. I’m also adding ‘get drunk in public and do something embarrassing.’”
“Why?” I never knew if a student or colleague might be nearby, or what they might think, so I rarely drank in public.
“Mostly because I want to hear the story of you doing something dumb.” Aaron cast a playful, brotherly look across the table. “And you’re fun after you’ve had a few.”
I kind of miss being fun.
Aaron held up the list triumphantly. “You’re agreeing to do everything that’s on it by accepting this.”
“Yeah, right,” I said, stretching to grab it from him. “These are all about hooking up with a guy. I want more from my life than that.” Also, I would need to google how to flirt before even attempting it.
Felicia batted my hand away. “Keep adding to it. And we’re mostly kidding—you don’t need to run out and get down with some random person.”
I read through the items and wondered if it might work. As I went down the list, I mentally added:
Stand up for myself
Take risks
Let someone else get me to orgasm
Trust a man again
“Okay, whatever. I’ll see what I can do.” I laughed, snapping a picture of the list with my phone. “Work is intense right now with this new president shaking things up. I need to focus. I’m not going to put time into searching for some dude to sleep with or getting a life.”
“Work and men don’t have to be mutually exclusive.” Aaron rapped the tabletop with his knuckles, a sly grin spreading across his face as he exchanged another look with his wife. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“Throw some condoms in your purse. We’re getting a babysitter and taking you out to a bar.” Aaron rose and grabbed the empty bottles from the table.
“You’re ridiculous. I’m not actually doing any of this. Besides, who goes out on a Tuesday?”
“Old married couples and social recluses, apparently,” Felicia said. “Plus it will be less crowded, so you can ease into it with a little breathing room.”
Aaron set the bottles on the counter and returned to lean against the table. “Nay, you were different after you broke up with Davis. Still you, but with the volume turned down.” He patted my shoulder. “We’d love to see the volume go back up.”
I had turned my volume down so he could be the one whose voice was loudest—that’s how he’d liked things—and I’d even pulled back from Felicia and Aaron, knowing they’d figure out what was happening. I’d questioned myself for a long time after we broke up, wondering if he was right about me speaking up.