that almost spewed wine across the table.
Rina had to smile, both at Ann’s comment and Jen’s reaction. “Okay, you caught me. I’ve either been dithering or telling myself not to think about it, to wait until tonight.” She glanced around, still worried but also hopeful. “I get so confused when I’m on my own. I knew you’d help me sort it out.”
Their waitress drifted by and Jenny said, “Let’s order calamari, hummus and pita to get us going.”
They all nodded agreement and the waitress topped up their wine glasses.
Then Suzanne said, “Okay, Rina, do it. Close your eyes and concentrate on your feelings. What does your heart say about Al?”
“Breathe deeply,” Ann put in. “It can help take you beyond all the surface buzz, down to a deeper level.”
Rina hid a smile. Adonis sure was having an impact on Ann. She took a long, slow drink of wine, then put her glass down. She took a breath, tried to make it go deep. Good God, she played the clarinet; if anyone knew about breathing properly, it was her.
Gradually the outside world receded. She was only dimly aware of Greek bouzouki music and the buzz of conversation elsewhere in the restaurant.
What did she feel for Al? A dentist with a successful practice, he worked reasonable hours and kept a good balance in his life. He was such a nice man. Supportive of her career. He’d come to the operatic society’s last performance.
No, wait, she was supposed to be feeling, not thinking.
Softly she said, “I always thought, when a man was The One, I’d know. Maybe that was a foolish romantic notion. Al’s great, but my heart isn’t jumping up and down for joy. When I see him, I feel a nice warm feeling, but…” She opened her eyes. “You all feel more than that, don’t you? With your guys?”
“Sparks,” Jenny said, and Suzanne and Ann nodded.
Rina sighed and reached up both hands to pull the thick curls away from her face. “I thought once we’d been lovers for a while, I’d start feeling that kind of chemistry.”
“You said the sex was good,” Suzanne said gently.
“Good isn’t good enough,” Jenny said.
“Unless it gets better by leaps and bounds each time you’re together,” Ann added. “But you’re not saying that.”
“Maybe it’s me,” Rina said. “I mean, it takes two for there to be sparks. Passion.” Like she’d felt in last night’s dream.
“Passion,” Ann repeated. “Remember what you asked me, about Adonis and David? Whether I could imagine having romantic love, a grand passion, with either?”
Rina bit her lip. “I can’t imagine having that with Al. But maybe it’s not my destiny.”
“Of course it is,” Jenny said. “You’re not even twenty-seven. Destiny didn’t hit Ann until she was an old lady of twenty-eight.” She winked at Ann, the oldest of the Foursome. “If Al doesn’t feel like The One, then wait, Rina. Your destiny will come along when the time’s right.”
“My bashert,” Rina murmured. “Aunt Rivka says Uncle David is her bashert. It’s Yiddish for destiny, and we also use it to mean that special person who’s just for us.”
“Rina?” Ann said. “You’re a romantic, and that’s great.” She hesitated. “But is it possible you’re expecting too much? Maybe no man could ever live up to your romantic vision. What if Al really is your bashert, but you’re not letting yourself recognize that?”
“That’s what I’m worried about. I don’t know how to tell.” Rina scowled just as the waitress arrived with the appetizers. “Sorry, I wasn’t frowning at you.”
“No worries.” The waitress winked as she put the plates down. “But take it from me, men can give you wrinkles.”
When she’d gone, Jenny squeezed lemon on the calamari and they each speared a ring. Rina, perennially trying to lose weight, was still pulling the batter off her first one when the others eagerly dived in for more.
She put down her fork. “So, how do I know if Al’s the right man? How do the three of you know?”
“My tough little heart turns to mush,” Jen said with a rueful grin. “Something I’d never believed was physically possible, but that’s what Scott does to me.” Her grin widened. “And you all thought I was going to talk about sex. So, not to let you down, I’ll also say the sex is off the scale, and it’s not just technique, it’s the emotional connection.”
Ann and Suzanne were nodding so hard they looked like bobble-head dolls.
“No mushy heart,” Rina said sadly. “And the sex is warm and affectionate, but not—”
“Really, really intimate,” Suzanne said.
“Where you can’t tell where one of you leaves off and the other begins,” Ann said. “It’s like you’ve merged totally together, body and soul.”
“Wow!” Distracted from her worries, Rina stared at her, wide eyed. “You really do belong with Adonis.”
“Yeah, I know.” Ann gave a smug smile, then her face sobered. “But let’s get back to you and Al.” A frown line—the one that hadn’t appeared nearly so often since she hooked up with Adonis—grooved her forehead. “You say he’s really nice, you’re so compatible, you have no issues. Rina, does he stimulate and challenge you? Make you examine what you believe and wonder if you’re right? The way Adonis did with me, about my obsession with work?”
Rina frowned too. “N-no.” She tried a smile. “But maybe I’m perfect already. Well, except for being fat, but you know, I’ve actually started doing yoga.”
“You’re not fat!” Jen screeched, as Suzanne said, “Yoga? I don’t believe it,” and Ann came in with, “I hate to say it, but no one’s perfect.”
“What?” They all stared at each other, then began to laugh.
“Yoga?” Suzanne repeated. “You hate yoga. We all hate yoga. It’s a Foursome Rule.”
Yoga was how they’d met. A couple of years ago they’d each signed up for a class, bitched about it in the change room afterward and ended up going out for coffee. An immediate bond had formed, and they’d been having dinner every Monday night since then.
“What I really hated about it,” Rina confessed, “was exercising in public. I feel so heavy and self-conscious.” When Jenny opened her mouth, Rina held up a hand. “Shut up, Jen. I know you’re going to say I’m not fat, I’m statuesque—”
“Stacked,” Jen interrupted. “Voluptuous, lush.” She went back to scooping a pile of hummus onto a slice of pita. Jenny, at five foot nothing, a hundred pounds on her heaviest day, could outeat all three of them and never gain an ounce.
“Whatever.” Rina waved a hand, dismissing the polite lies. No way, in a society where size 6 was considered big, would her abundant curves ever be acceptable. “You’re all sweet, but I have eyes in my head and I know what kind of women are considered attractive. If I lived in the days of Marilyn Monroe and Sophia Loren, I might be okay, but today curves equal fat.”
“Rina, you’re not—” Ann started
Rina cut her off. “You’re sweet, but I invoke the Agree to Disagree Rule.”
Ann sighed loudly. “All right. But we’re not being sweet. Well, Suze might be, but Jen and I don’t have it in us to be sweet.”
“Thanks, bitch,” Jen said cheerfully. “And yeah, Rina, Annie’s right.”
“Anyhow,” Rina said, “if I could get back to my point?”
They all nodded, and she said, “I decided to