Who Gets the Friends? Read online

  Two lonely souls get a chance to make their Christmas wish come true.

  When Tom Harris won back his freedom after a bitter divorce, he looked forward to getting a fresh start in life. What he didn’t realize was that his former wife had taken their mutual friends as part of the settlement. He feared that he’d be alone forever until he met Jessica Mays, who was recovering from the loss of her one true love. Can these two broken souls find some common ground to make a relationship work? Will Tom discover that there really is life after divorce?

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  Who Gets the Friends?

  Copyright © 2013 Tim Smith

  ISBN: 978-1-77111-774-6

  Cover art by Latrisha Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books

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  Who Gets the Friends?

  By

  Tim Smith

  Dedication

  To Kayo, for being there

  Prologue

  Once upon a time, a young, handsome pauper fell in love with and married a beautiful princess from a wealthy family. The princess gladly included her soul mate in her circle of affluent friends, who treated him as one of their own.

  One day, the young man made a horrible mistake—he did not gift the princess with the jewel-bedecked crown she wanted so badly for her birthday. She became upset with him, but no matter how much he groveled forgiveness was not forthcoming and their once-perfect life began to unravel. He and the princess had a terrible fight and the young man moved out of their castle. The princess’ family was very angry with him, as were the people he had made friends with. They stopped speaking to him and he feared that he would be alone and friendless forever.

  The moral of the story is that you can divide the assets, you can agree on who gets custody of the crystal punch bowl that was a wedding gift, and you can negotiate visits with the family pet—but who gets the friends?

  Chapter One

  Tom Harris stood in the living room of his apartment and looked at the way he had arranged his new and slightly used furniture. It’ll do for now. At least I have cable TV and the stereo works. When I dig out some of the pictures I have packed I’ll tackle the walls.

  He went to answer the knocking at the door. Doug Dennison stood on the front step, smiling and holding a six-pack of Beck’s Dark German beer. “Housewarming present.”

  Tom held the door open to let him in, then closed it. “Thanks. That’s just what I need right now.”

  Doug tossed his coat on the couch next to him as Tom handed him a beer and took a seat in the recliner.

  “So how’s it feel to be in your own place again?” Doug asked.

  “Awkward. First time I’ve been on my own in nearly ten years. It’ll take some getting used to. At least it’s cheaper than the motel I was staying in the past few weeks.”

  Doug tipped his bottle back. “How long until it’s finalized?”

  “My lawyer got us on the calendar a week from Wednesday.” He shook his head. “My ex already petitioned to get her maiden name back.”

  “You didn’t really want people calling her Mrs. Harris any longer, did you?”

  “Oh, hell no.” He took a drink. “The timing couldn’t be worse for a break-up. Thanksgiving is in a few weeks, then we’re into the holidays. I always hated spending the holidays alone before I got married.”

  “What about your friends?”

  “What friends? She took them as part of the settlement.”

  “But you two were always going to dinner or the theater with some couples and you played golf at the country club most weekends. I just assumed you were with friends.”

  “They were all her friends, not mine. I was just a hanger-on. Most of them she knew through her old man’s business.”

  “You mean none of them want to associate with you now?”

  “Pretty much. I ran into the wife of one of my golf buddies at the grocery store the other day and she barely spoke to me. Can you beat that?”

  “You think your ex got to her?”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me. I just wonder how many other people she told stories to.”

  “I wouldn’t worry. Anyone who knows you very well won’t put any stock in what she says.”

  “I’m not worried. Hell, if I wanted to play that game I could make some calls of my own. I wonder how some of my former friends would react if they heard some of the things I could tell about her?”

  Doug laughed. “Careful, man. That’s dangerous talk.”

  “I’m not going to do it. That would be sinking to her level.”

  Doug set his bottle on the coffee table. “I always said you were a class act, Tom.”

  Tom put a Buddy Rich CD on the stereo. “Suits my mood,” he said.

  “When are you thinking of getting back into the dating game?” Doug asked.

  “Who would I date? I’ve been out of circulation for so many years I wouldn’t know where to start looking.”

  “What about Karly with a k at work? She’s always hanging around and flirting with you.”

  “That was when I was still attached. When I let it slip that I was about to be a free agent again she turned a bit frosty.”

  “Get outta here! You think she was afraid you’d make a move on her?”

  “Probably. Haven’t you figured that out about women? When you’re attached to someone they think it’s safe to flirt because they assume you won’t do anything about it.”

  “Still might be worth a phone call to test the waters.”

  Tom took a drink. “I’ll think about it.”

  “You know what you need? A divorce party.”

  “A what?”

  “A divorce party. Divorce isn’t just the end of something bad, it’s the beginning of something good.”

  Tom laughed. “Are you serious? People actually do that?”

  Doug shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Maybe we’re plowing virgin territory.”

  Tom hesitated. “I don’t know…”

  “Come on, it’ll be a blast. A lot of people, some food, drinks, laughs. It’ll do you good.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Here’s the crucial element—whoever we invite, we tell them to bring along someone you don’t know, preferably female. That way you can meet some new people.”

  Tom took a long swallow, then looked at Doug. That has to be the craziest idea I’ve ever heard. Then again… “Okay, when should we do this?”

  “As soon as possible. You said your emancipation is in a week and a half, right? How about the Saturday after? We can have it at my place.”

  “Won’t your live-in object to the idea of a divorce party, considering that you two are getting married next year?”

  Doug dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “She’ll love it. Besides, for some unkn
own reason she thinks the world of you.”

  Tom walked up the sidewalk to Doug’s bi-level house and counted a dozen cars in the driveway and on the street. As he got closer he heard the sound of music and laughter emanating from inside. He paused when he reached the front door, took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. I have to be crazy to be doing this. What if I do meet someone interesting? What do I say? Hi, I’m Tom and I just finalized my divorce. What’s your sign? I’m definitely out of practice.

  He pressed the doorbell. A few moments later it was answered by Peggy, Doug’s girlfriend. She gave him a warm smile and a hug.

  “It’s about time the guest of honor showed up,” she teased. “Come in.”

  Tom stepped into the foyer. “How are you, Peg?”

  “I’m okay. How about you?”

  Tom shrugged. “I’m getting along.”

  She gave him a curious look. “Is that uncertainty I’m hearing or are your feet getting cold at the idea of mingling with the masses?”

  He laughed. “Maybe a little.”

  “You’ll be fine. The party’s downstairs. You can leave your coat up here.”

  Tom tossed it onto the sofa with the others, then followed Peggy downstairs. He stopped when he was halfway down the steps and surveyed the landscape before him. There were about twenty-five people enjoying drinks and talking among themselves. Tom recognized some of them from work and noticed that the woman-to-man ratio was about three to one. Son of a bitch pulled it off.

  Doug waved to him from behind the bar. Tom strolled over to him, smiled and stuck out his hand. Doug clasped it and gave him a hearty handshake.

  “Welcome,” he said. “Did you bring it with you?”

  “Yeah, I brought it. You sure that’s what we’re supposed to do at a party like this?”

  “Absolutely. It’s closure.” He picked up a spoon from the bar and tapped it on his glass to get everyone’s attention. When the crowd quieted down, he spoke. “For those of you don’t know him, this is Tom Harris, in whose honor we’re throwing this little gathering. For those of you who do know him, forget all those stories you’ve heard.”

  Everyone laughed, then Doug continued. “To get things started in the right way, we have a little ceremony to perform. Tom, let’s have it.”

  Tom hesitated for a moment, then took a folded document from his pocket.

  Doug held it up. “What we have here is a rare artifact that was at one time valuable, but has now lost its usefulness. It’s a marriage license and it gives two people named Thomas Harris and Judi Bright permission to be legally married. As of three days ago it became worthless.” Doug took a lighter from his pocket and handed it to Tom. “Do you want to do the honors?”

  Tom accepted the lighter. “If you insist.” He held the flame to the license, setting it on fire. The people in the room applauded and whistled.

  “Way to go, Tom!” one of the men called out.

  “Now it’s official,” Doug said. “Get yourself a drink and mingle.”

  Tom fixed himself a Scotch and soda, took a sip, then moved into the crowd. He stopped to greet a few people from work, all of whom offered him congratulations before resuming their own conversations. Tom felt a bit out of place being there alone, but he knew he had to tough it out.

  A woman he didn’t recognize stood across the room, engaged in a one-sided discussion with a man. She was about five-foot-six, well proportioned, with red hair that flowed past her shoulders. She politely smiled at the man who was talking to her and nodded at the appropriate moments. I wonder who she is?

  He moved closer to get a better look and stopped when he was facing her from a few feet away. She glanced at him with light blue eyes that seemed to plead please save me!

  Moving casually, he approached and lightly touched her forearm. “There you are. I was afraid I missed you.”

  The woman smiled. “I was hoping I’d run into you. I wanted to talk to you some more about that thing we discussed the other day.” She looked at the other man. “Would you excuse us?”

  She hooked her arm with Tom’s as he led her in the direction of the bar. “Thank you.”

  “You looked as though you were in distress.”

  She groaned. “You have no idea.”

  “Friend of yours?”

  “Never saw him before.” She looked Tom over. “So you’re the guest of honor.”

  He laughed uneasily. “That’s what they tell me. What’s your name?”

  “Jessica Mays.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Jessica Mays. How do you happen to be at my divorce party?”

  “I’m a friend of Peggy’s. We work together at the hospital.”

  “What do you do there?”

  “I’m a nurse. You work with Doug at the bank, yes?”

  “That’s right. I’m a loan officer.”

  “Must be interesting work.”

  “Not as interesting as what you do. I could never be in the medical field.”

  “Why not?”

  “Science was never my best friend and I hate the sight of blood.”

  They reached the bar. “Can I fix you something?” Tom asked.

  “A rum and Coke would be nice.”

  Tom prepared her drink, then handed it to her.

  She took a sip. “That was an interesting little ritual you and Doug performed. Very symbolic.”

  “Thanks. I thought it was silly.”

  “Why?”

  He took a sip. “The whole closure thing. He thought it would help me feel better, but I think I was doing fine without it.”

  Jessica rested her trim frame against the bar and cradled her drink in her hands. “How long were you married?”

  “Nearly ten years.”

  “And you don’t think that after that much time it isn’t a major adjustment?”

  “No, I agree it’s difficult.”

  “It gets easier.”

  Tom looked at her. “Is that the voice of experience talking?”

  “Mm-hmm. I’ve been on my own for five years, but the first few months were tough.”

  Tom closed the gap between them. “What was the most difficult thing for you to get used to?”

  She sipped her drink. “Not feeling self-conscious going into a restaurant alone.”

  Tom chuckled. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that, too. I’ve gotten some strange looks when I request a table for one. Almost like there’s something wrong with me.”

  Jessica rested her hand on his arm and gave a pleasant laugh. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I went through the same thing.”

  Tom peered into her soft eyes. “At the risk of getting too personal too fast, may I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  He hesitated a moment. “Are you currently involved with anyone?”

  She looked at him with a sly smile. “Are you really interested or on the rebound?”

  “No, I’m really interested.”

  “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” She took a drink. “Is this where you ask me if I’d like to run away with you to Cancun?”

  Tom laughed. “Whoa, that’s a little fast for me.”

  She traced her fingertip along his hand. “Then why don’t you come out of your shell and ask what’s on your mind?”

  “Okay, I will. I was thinking we could continue this conversation somewhere more private.”

  She laughed. “You can’t leave your own party so soon. Where did you think we’d go?”

  “No one was using the upstairs living room when I came in. Would you feel safe there if I promise to keep my hands to myself?”

  “Okay, I accept your proposition.”

  Tom refreshed their drinks, then escorted Jessica through the crowd. Doug intercepted them at the stairs.

  “Hey, you’re not leaving already, are you?” he asked.

  “No, we’re going upstairs,” Tom replied. “Quieter up there.”

  Doug nodded, then leaned in close to Tom and lowered his voice. “Jus
t not on the couch, okay?”

  Tom scowled at him. “Shut up, Doug.”

  When they reached the main level, Tom set his drink on the coffee table and took a seat in an occasional chair while Jessica cleared a space on the sofa. She tucked one leg under her, then sat. Tom hesitated, thinking of something to say.

  “What do you like to do when you’re not rescuing bored women at divorce parties?” Jessica asked.

  “I like to watch movies, play a little golf when the weather cooperates.” He paused. “Right now that’s about it.”

  “You mean until you find yourself all over again?”

  “Yeah, I suppose that’s it.” He sipped his drink. “I don’t want to get all melancholy, but for the past month or so I’ve been wondering what I was going to do with myself now that things have changed.”

  “What did you like to do before?”

  He thought for a moment. “I was into photography, a little writing, things like that.”

  “How did you do with those hobbies?”

  “Photography was more than a hobby. I used to do some freelance work and entered a few contests.”

  “Did you ever win?”

  “Yeah, I had some of my pics published in photo magazines. That was when I thought of doing it as a career or part-time job.”

  “Why not go back to that?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it. What do you like to do when you aren’t playing Florence Nightingale?”

  “Go to jazz concerts, take long walks in the park, cook. Things like that.”

  “Sounds like a well-rounded life.”

  She took a drink, then set her glass on the table. “Are you in the market for a little free advice?”

  “I’ll take any I can get.”

  She looked down for a moment, then raised her eyes to lock onto his. “Don’t waste a lot of time wallowing in self-pity or second-guessing yourself. It isn’t healthy.”

  “Thanks. I already went through the what-could-I-have-done-differently bit when we first separated.”