The Meeting Point by Olivia Lara

Eighty-Two

I’ve been back at Café Azure for about an hour when my phone beeps. A text from Ethan.

Can we meet at Mission Ranch? 9 PM? There’s someone I want you to meet!

I’m about to meet Max. This is really happening. Can the choice of restaurant be more obvious? It’s where I had dinner last year in Carmel. Yet, I hesitate before I reply, Of course.

I walk to the cottage as fast as I can, get ready for my date with him—I can call it a date, can’t I? I put on the long, black dress Alisa gifted me for Christmas and black stilettos. I do my hair and put on makeup. The works. I do it all like a robot, not stopping to think for a second.

I’m ready. Am I ready? I take a deep breath, then another and another. And minutes pass. I can’t back off now, although every fiber of my body is telling me I should. But why? This is the reason I came to Carmel. This is what I’ve been dreaming of for a year. I have to do this. I owe it to myself to meet him and I owe it to him.

When I arrive, the hostess says my party isn’t here yet and invites me to follow her.

I missed this place and after reading Ethan’s book and seeing it from Max’s perspective, it has even more meaning. He was here, somewhere, and now, he will be here with me, at the same table. I try to picture his face like I have done so many times, but Ethan’s face is all I see. I close my eyes, forcing the image out. I am here to meet Max. Max, not Ethan.

I focus instead on how I look and what he’s going to see. I arrange my dress a few times, push back a strand of hair, look in my small mirror, making sure I don’t have any lipstick on my teeth or anything. I look good. I’m ready; I have to be.

I hear Ethan’s voice and turn. I was wrong; I’m not ready. Not for this. Who is she?

Next to Ethan is a beautiful woman whose outfit makes my dress look like I bought it from Zara for $24.99. Her hair is perfect, her skin is flawless, her makeup impeccable, just like that flowy summer dress that screams ‘I’m not even trying’. Of course she’s not. She doesn’t have to.

I get up, not knowing how to react.

He smiles and wants to say something, but the woman, without waiting for any introductions or anything, jumps at me and hugs me.

“Maya, so nice to meet you. Ethan told me so much about you,” she says, a huge smile on her face. Yes, her teeth are perfect too.

“I couldn’t say the same,” I say. Nasty. I know. I didn’t mean to say it out loud… I think.

“This is Melissa,” says Ethan, his whole face smiling now. My God, he looks happy. Melissa? I heard that name before. He was on the phone with her the other day, wasn’t he?

“Melissa,” I repeat.

Is she his girlfriend? I assume so. Where did this come from? Where did she come from? I came to the restaurant to meet Max, and instead, I’m meeting Ethan’s girlfriend? I’m so confused. And the most confusing part is not that Max isn’t here, but the fact that Melissa being here is causing me so much heartache. Why would I care? It’s his business who he sees and who he spends time with. I guess it’s the surprise of it all. I didn’t know he was with someone. Truth is, I never asked. Not once. Just because he’s divorced, it doesn’t mean he’s alone. Why did I assume that? Because he spent time with me? It didn’t cross my mind and it hurts seeing them together, smiling at each other and exchanging loaded looks. It really does hurt.

“You’re just like I imagined you would be,” she says and laughs.

A crystalline laugh, like the kind you hear in Japanese cartoons.

“Let’s sit,” says Ethan. He holds her chair, and my stomach churns. I’m jealous. There’s no way around it: horribly jealous. Instead of thinking of Max, I’m thinking of these two kissing and whatnot and I feel like getting up and leaving the restaurant. What’s this charade?

Ethan orders wine. “We’ll need a few to decide on the food,” he says to the waiter.

After he pours the wine, the waiter hands Melissa the bowl.

“What is this?” she asks.

It’s the ‘fortune cookies’. I still have mine from last year, carefully taped in a notebook.

Ethan looks at me for a moment, but I look away.

The waiter explains the fortunes to Melissa, and she gets one. Then me, and then Ethan.

“You can’t have everything. Where would you put it all?” she read out loud and starts laughing. “That’s true,” she says and Ethan laughs too.

I don’t.

I unfold mine. Life is a strange restaurant where odd waiters bring you things you never asked for but unknowingly need. That’s funny. Very funny.

“What did you get?” she asks him.

“The love of your life is right in front of your eyes,” he reads and smiles at her.

I gulp down some wine and as I do, I see her from the corner of my eye, leaning toward Ethan and whispering something in his ear, and I feel like I’m going to get sick. Physically sick.

“Can you excuse me?” I say and without waiting for an answer, I head to the bathroom.

I lock myself in a stall and start breathing in and out through my mouth, trying to calm down. I hate him. And I hate myself. And I hate that perfect Barbie doll he’s making googly eyes at. I just hate my life right now! Can nothing work out the way I hope it will? Nothing? Why would he bring her here to meet me? It’s ridiculous.