Flirting with Fifty

Chapter 9

For the first time in a long time Paige wondered why she didn’t do more things, why she didn’t try more things.

For the first time maybe ever, she wondered why she gave her girls such unconditional support, and freedom to try things, without judgment. She wished she gave herself the same freedom, the same encouragement. Why couldn’t she meet Jack for a hike tomorrow? Why couldn’t they go for lunch after? Why couldn’t they hang out and do things together? They were both single and living alone. Why couldn’t she try different things without obsessing about the negatives, or the future?

She was constantly telling her daughters to take risks, to go after what they wanted. But it had been years since Paige thought she could. Since she thought she should. She didn’t understand where the double standard came from, unless she was genuinely tired, fatigued by life, disappointed by what she discovered marriage and maturity was like.

But was maturity really about not experiencing anything new? Was maturity all about maintaining the status quo?

If Nichole came to her, and asked her advice about changing jobs, moving to a new city, going on a trip with a friend or a boyfriend, Paige knew she would tell her to listen to her gut and rely on her instincts. If the new job, new city, or road trip sounded fun, why not do it? Why not want a little more?

Why not want a lot?

Paige felt as if her eyes were just being opened, and it wasn’t entirely comfortable. It was almost as if she’d been asleep for a long, long time and she no longer really knew herself or her place in the world. But maybe that was a good thing. Maybe she could find her place then. Maybe she could explore the world, find herself, find new paths, new joy.

New love.

Although she wasn’t so sure about that one. It was hard to let herself trust a man that much, let alone with her heart. It wasn’t until recently that she’d realized how fragile she felt, how vulnerable. She might be confident as a teacher, a friend, and a mom, but she wasn’t sure of herself as a woman. Her self-esteem in that regard was pretty damn low.

In her heart of hearts, she felt like a failure. She hated that. She hated being negative about anyone or anything, much less men, and relationships. Maybe she and Ted hadn’t been happy, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the company of an interesting man. It didn’t mean she couldn’t go to a movie or dinner.

She thought of her birthday dinner with Jack. She’d enjoyed his company. Immensely. She’d felt little sparks throughout the evening, sparks that made her feel pretty, and happy. Desirable. Whether or not that was real, she didn’t know, but it had felt good to be sitting in a nice restaurant, having a delicious dinner by candlelight with a man who was undeniably handsome. Jack drew attention. Women liked looking at him. She liked looking at him. But then, she’d liked looking at him in Paris. She’d liked the way he walked, the way he used his hands, the way his features were so expressive. She’d liked the glimpse of humor in his eyes, and the curve of his mouth. He had a great mouth. He’d been a great kisser. That’s how she’d ended up in his bed. Before she panicked that she wasn’t good enough, attractive enough.

Paige had shared so much with Elizabeth over the years, but she’d never really shared how insecure she felt about her body, and about sex. Even when she was young, early in her marriage before everything went south with Ted, she’d needed a glass or two of something to help her relax. Not feel so self-conscious. She’d thought that once she found the right person, the self-consciousness would go away, and once she married, she did feel safer, and more secure, but it was hard to block out the little voices that wondered if Ted was happy. If he enjoyed their lovemaking. Or if he was ever disappointed. Did he ever compare her to anyone else?

Paige went to her closet, looked through her dresses and skirts and pretty tops. She was looking forward to tonight’s play. She’d seen a lot of plays and musicals over the years with Ashley. One of their favorite things to do even now was for Paige to fly in for a long weekend and try to catch as many shows as they could. They loved Times Square. The theatres, the lights, the crowds. They’d dress up and go out and be two girls out on the town. Paige smiled, missing her youngest, her baby.

Paige’s phone buzzed. She crossed to her nightstand where her phone was charging. It was Elizabeth. What are you wearing tonight?

I don’t know, Paige texted in reply. I’m trying to decide.

Are we dressing up, or going casual? Elizabeth asked.

How about in between? Paige suggested. Cute clothes, fun earrings?

I’m not wearing heels.

Paige grinned. Elizabeth lived in flats. Paige loved shoes with height. You do you, Paige texted back.

Back at her closet, Paige flipped through her blouses once more and selected a navy, long-sleeve silk blouse, skinny white jeans, and her favorite espadrille wedges. Dressed, she put on makeup and ran a brush through her long hair. She loved her hair. Her girls had made her promise that she wouldn’t cut it, and she had no desire to chop it off. Long hair made her feel young, and even though lots of women her age were embracing their gray, she wasn’t ready to go natural. Blond was sunny and pretty, and she didn’t color her hair for anyone else. She kept it blond for her. Her girls made her want to stay young. She liked being their fun mom.

Paige checked her watch, saw that Elizabeth would be arriving soon, and quickly added a bit more mascara before picking out a pair of sparkly silver chandelier earrings from her jewelry box. She put on the dangly earrings, slicked on a soft pink lipstick, looking forward to the night out. Elizabeth was the sister she’d never had, and Paige could always count on Elizabeth being fun, stress free. Unlike Ted, Elizabeth never embarrassed her in any way.

Paige grabbed a gauzy shawl and her purse, and stepped outside, locking the door behind her. As she waited on the curb for Elizabeth, she flashed back to Thursday night, and how dinner with Jack had not been comfortable. Dinner with Jack had been electric. She’d felt a rush of adrenaline walking into the restaurant and spotting him across the room. He’d been wearing a white linen shirt and dark trousers and he’d looked very male, and very appealing.

When he’d greeted her, kissing her cheek, she’d felt a frisson of energy, and awareness. The sparks continued all night, making her heart beat a little faster and her hands not quite steady. She’d forgotten how a man could make one feel a little giddy, a little shy. She’d told Elizabeth at the beginning of the school year that she had no hormones left, that on the inside she was essentially dead, but Paige hadn’t felt dead Thursday night, and she didn’t feel dead now. She still felt rather fizzy and hopeful.

Just thinking about Jack’s invitation to go hiking tomorrow made her want to text him and say yes, and what time?

But would that be a mistake? Would spending more time together change things . . . ruin their friendship?

Maybe it was better to play it safe, and just focus on getting through this semester and finish team teaching with him and then, maybe in the new year, maybe once they weren’t working closely together, she could think about having dinner with him again. Maybe then they could go out again, have a date. Maybe Jack wasn’t completely out of her league.

They were almost to the Estrella exit in San Clemente when Elizabeth suddenly swore under her breath. “What’s wrong?” Paige asked.

“I think I left the tickets at home.”

“Are you sure?”

“They were on the kitchen counter. I don’t remember picking them up.”

“Maybe you did, and you just don’t remember.”