Page 1 of Perfectly Complicated
ONE
Janie
End of the School Year—June
“It’s complicated” might be the most useless phrase in the English language—right up there with “we need to talk” and “I’m fine.” It’s the verbal equivalent of dodging the question, saying absolutely everything while managing to say nothing at all.
How are things with your ex?Complicated.
What’s your relationship status?Complicated.
Do you want pineapple on your pizza?That’s adefiniteno. But you get the idea.
So when my friends ask about my dating life, I try to avoid saying it’s complicated, even though my feelings about datingarecomplicated. It’s not that I’m against it—I just have zero desire to get my heart stomped on again since my marriage ended. Add in the fact that I’m a single mom to a baby who doesn’t sleep through the night, and suddenly “it’s complicated” starts looking like the understatement of the century.
That’s how I’ve ended up here, getting ready for my first girls’ night out since Aria was born, with Gabriella perched on my bathroom counter applying lip gloss and Madi searching my closet for something besides a stained sweatshirt and slippers.
“There’s only one ground rule for this evening,” Gabriella announces, pulling out her lip gloss wand and pointing it at me. “That you have fun.”
“But I’m already having fun,” I say. “I don’t see why we have to leave my house.”
“Janie.” She gives me a pointed look. “You suggested we work on your school Christmas pageant as our fun for tonight.”
“Christmasisfun, right?” I say enthusiastically. I’m probably the only adult who gets genuinely excited about angel costumes and kindergartners forgetting their lines, but Christmas is my absolute favorite holiday.
Her frown deepens. “Christmas,yes.But not in June. When was the last time you went out just for fun?”
I chew my lip, thinking. “Does going to Target while Aria slept in her carrier count?”
She shakes her head.
“Really, I’m fine.” I take out an old container of mascara—one I haven’t used in months, maybe even a year. The fact that I can’t remember says everything. Between one a.m. feedings and diaper changes, makeup feels like a luxury from another lifetime.
“You’re surviving. There’s a difference.” Gabriella turns toward the mirror. “Tonight is about remembering what it feels like to laugh with peopleoverthe age of six—actual adults who already know how to tie their shoes.” Then she swipes on her lip gloss. “And maybe…putting yourself out there a little.”
I freeze, my mascara wand halfway to my lashes. “What do you mean, putting yourself out there?”
“You know,” Gabriella says with a smile that tells me I do not want to know. “With men.”
“Oh,heckno. I thought this was girls’ night, not ‘throw Janie to the dating wolves’ night.”
“It is girls’ night,” she insists. “I just meant, if some guy comes up to you…you should talk to him. You’re gorgeous, Janie.”
I stare at her, wondering how the former hockey player turned physical therapist became so invested in my love life. Actually, it’snot just Gabriella. All my friends have been patiently waiting for me to say the word that I’m ready to be social again. They want thepre-babyversion of me—the enthusiastic friend who was always up for a night at the karaoke bar.
But that was before Nick.
I scoff. “I talk to men all the time.”
“David Peterson doesn’t count,” Scarlett says from where she’s sprawled across my bedroom floor, watching Aria after her shift at the Magnolia Brew Coffee Shop.
“What’s wrong with David?” I say indignantly. “He’s a teacher and very interested in my grading rubrics.”
“That’s exactly what’s wrong with him,” Gabriella says. “I’ve met houseplants with more sex appeal.”
“David is a nice guy,” I say, though I don’t know why I’m defending him. I have zero chemistry with the fourth-grade teacher, even if he does stop by my classroom daily to borrow something—stapler, hole punch, paper clips. The man’s idea of living on the edge is using a colored gel pen instead of a ballpoint.
“I think you need to see what’s out there,” Madi interrupts, emerging from my closet with three different pairs of boots for me to try on.
