A Kiss To Remember

‘What about your family in all this? Didn’t they notice anything? Didn’t they see you’d broken your heart over this heartless Don Juan?’

‘I’m sure Mum was beginning to wonder. And I think Bud had guessed some time back. Perhaps as far back as the night of his and Lance’s graduation. He’d made such a point of letting me know about Lance’s reputation where the opposite sex was concerned. Even at the wedding he said he’d make a fortune if he took bets on Lance’s marriage lasting. He said Lance was a great guy but that he wasn’t cut out for monogamy. He added, rather pointedly, I thought, that it wasn’t always his fault. That a lot of the times silly girls—this said looking straight at me—threw themselves at him.’

‘Pretty lame excuse, if you ask me. Hard to rape a guy, I say. Did you speak to lover-boy himself at the wedding?’

‘I tried not to, but Lance seemed to deliberately seek me out. Lord knows why. Maybe he was finally suffering from a guilty conscience. He gave me this ghastly kiss on the cheek, then told me rather stiffly that he hoped life would bring me everything I’d ever hoped for, that he thought I was the nicest girl he’d ever met and that he wished the world could be full of people like the Browns.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Vanessa sighed. ‘Hardly the thing to say to turn you off him, was it?’

Angie swallowed the lump that had suddenly filled her throat. ‘No,’ she confessed. ‘Not quite...’

Vanessa was frowning at her. ‘You’re not still in love with him, are you?’

‘No, of course not,’ she returned impatiently, standing up abruptly to carry her empty mug over to the sink. ‘That was donkey’s years ago. Don’t be silly.’

Vanessa joined her at the sink. ‘I hope you’re telling the truth, for it would be silly of you to still be in love with him. It’s also silly for you to keep knocking back other men because of the way some rich creep once made you feel. Get your head out of the clouds, Angie, and get real. You’re not getting any younger, you know. One day you’ll wake up and you won’t see a cross between Elle MacPherson and Sophia Loren in the mirror, and then it’ll all be too late!’

Angie had to laugh. Vanessa had a turn of phrase which could be highly amusing. A cross between Elle MacPherson and Sophia Loren, indeed!

‘You’re going to your brother’s birthday party tonight, aren’t you?’ Vanessa went on, with a devious gleam in her eye.

‘Yes...’

‘Is it a big party or just a small gathering?’

‘Bud’s parties are always huge.’

‘What’s your brother do for a crust?’

‘Well, he did a business degree, majoring in computer studies and marketing. But he went into advertising and he’s been surprisingly successful.’

‘Then his party should be full of eminently suitable candidates, shouldn’t it?’

‘Candidates for what?’

‘Your first lover.’

Angie was about to protest when she stopped herself, all those maudlin memories of Lance sparking an uncharacteristic surge of recklessness. Maybe Vanessa was right. Maybe even Debbie had been right this afternoon. Life was meant to be lived. To remain ignorant and inexperienced just because she was clinging to a crazy dream was indeed silly.

‘At least go with an open mind,’ Vanessa urged. ‘Promise me that if a suitable candidate shows up, whom you’re genuinely attracted to, you’ll think about giving him a chance.’

‘All right,’ she said, suddenly making up her mind to do just that. ‘I promise.’

‘Now you’re being sensible.’

Which was what Lance had said about her more than once that summer. How sensible she was.

Well, she was sick of sensible! Her resolve to follow Vanessa’s suggestion deepened. She would find herself a real lover as opposed to a fantasy one. It was time. Yes, it was definitely time!

‘I’m going to make sure I look smashing tonight,’ she said through clenched teeth.

‘Attagirl!’ Vanessa crowed. ‘Go for it, sweetheart. You only live once!’

Ten o’clock that evening found Angie regretting the trouble she had gone to over her appearance. She received enough male attention at parties at the best of times. Done up as she was tonight, and smothered in perfume, she seemed to have reduced potential candidates to panting pursuers, thereby ensuring her revulsion. She hated men who came on too strong, who delivered obvious lines then expected her to melt instantly at their feet. If one more intoxicated fool said ‘your place or mine’, she was going to scream.