Table Tennis

*** Contains adult themes. ***

Jamilla threw her purse on the table and nodded to the waiter. “Top shelf margarita, rocks, salt,” she said. “Thank you.”

Marina took a long sip from her cocktail before staring at Jamilla. “Who pissed in your Cheerios?” she asked calmly.

Jamilla frowned. “Freddie locked me out of the accounts and closed my credit card.” She drummed her fingers on her cell phone, glaring at it as if it had insulted her.

Liz laughed. “That is sort of to be expected when you get divorced, Jamilla. I’m surprised he hadn’t done that before.”

The waiter smoothly delivered Jamilla’s drink, looked around the table for further instructions, then beat a hasty retreat. He was familiar with women of a certain age and their boozy lunches. There was no need to get involved and become collateral damage.

Jamilla swiped her tongue across the rim of the glass, then drank impatiently. Breathing out heavily, she settled back in her seat. “I know. But now I have to get by on a pittance from him. It’s like he still has control of my life.”

Her friends refrained from pointing out that her alimony would have put food on the table of a small village in many parts of the world. Luxury is in the eye of the beholder, and Jamilla’s eye had been spoiled by years of being coddled by her parents and then by her husband.

Marina raised her eyebrows and stared into the middle distance as she mused “Of course, if you had a job to keep you occupied, you wouldn’t be dependent on him.”

“I have a job. I’m a trophy wife.” Jamilla lit a cigarette and looked around, daring any of the other tables to complain. An older woman bristled, and glared at her, but one look at Jamilla’s face convinced her to pick another battle.

“What?” she asked as the other two looked at her reproachfully. “It’s outdoor seating. If they don’t like it, they can move farther away.”

“You’re not a trophy wife right now. You’re an ex-wife, looking for her next conquest.” Liz giggled slightly to soften the barb. “Who do you have in your sights?”

Jamilla tossed her hair and sneered as the others leaned in to hear her latest news. “There’s not a lot out there, ladies. Obviously, you know that, Marina. How long have you been single now?” She pasted a sympathetic smile on her face and put her hand on her friend’s.

“It’s different for me, darling,” replied Marina smoothly, “I have other sources of income. My investments and my little side business. It’s enough to keep me in comfort and support some suitably subservient male companionship. You should try it.”

Liz laughed openly. “You asked for that, Jamilla. She has everything worked out beautifully. If she marries again, it’ll be on her terms. That’s why having a job can be so helpful. Her ‘little side business’ is bringing in more money than your alimony, I hear. Maybe she can offer you a job?”

Jamilla picked up the menu and studied it until her blood pressure returned to normal. “I think an omelet and a salad will do nicely. Got to keep my figure in peak condition.”

“Or just go to the bathroom and puke after the meal,” said Marina. They shared a knowing laugh. All three women were rail-thin and presented like runway models.

The waiter was hovering to take their order. Jamilla and Liz ordered similar healthy diet-conscious choices while Marina opted for eggs Benedict, smirking as she did so. “Plenty of cardio, girls!” she teased.

“Still with the personal trainer, then?” asked Jamilla.

“Gustav? Only for training, now. I’m seeing a new man. Lots of money, lots of sex. Still in the pre-honeymoon phase.”

“God, I miss that.” Jamilla muttered. “I may have been too hasty with the divorce. I could get Freddie back on a friends with benefits deal. He was a lot of fun before we were married.”

Marina looked at her sharply. Liz tilted her head. “Why would he do that? I bet he has another woman now.”

It was Jamilla’s turn to laugh. “He’s too busy working to have found somebody else. And he can’t resist what I have to offer.” She picked up her phone and took pictures of herself, glass in hand, and then of the table. “Going to show him how much fun I’m having. That’ll bring him to heel.” She sent the pictures after carefully reviewing them.

Liz shuddered and turned to Marina. “Tell us about your new man. Anyone we know? Do I hear prenup bells in the future?”

Marina blushed a little. “Too soon to tell tales” she said quietly, “but it’s very romantic right now.”

Liz gave a little squeak of excitement. “Oh, I wish Diego and I were still romantic. Tell us everything! I can live vicariously through you.”

They chattered on as the waiter dropped off their lunches and refreshed their drinks. The usual mix of gossip, boasting, envy, and snark.

Marina was draining her third drink when Liz asked “So where has Mr. Romantic taken you? Sports, culture, quiet getaways, exciting hobbies? He must be pulling out all the stops to make an impression on a catch like you.”

Jamilla sniffed audibly. Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen, then turned it face down and pushed it away.

Marina thought for a moment, then said “Seafood dinner on his yacht, a weekend trip to a winery in Napa. No big gestures, just laying the groundwork for a prolonged engagement. I’m taking him to the horse ranch in a couple of weeks. Test out his mettle in the saddle.” She raised her eyebrows wickedly.

Jamilla snapped her fingers to summon the waiter. “Another round of drinks here. And bring us the dessert cart.” Looking at the surprised faces of her friends, she added for their benefit “Bathroom. Puke. It’s worth it. I need to get Freddie in line.”

Turning to Marina, she said “Freddie had moves like that when he was courting me. Took me to Rio for Carnival, to Macao for gambling. But I think the seafood supper was his best move. Very romantic.”

“Some things never change” agreed Marina. And then she quickly added “we all fall for that routine, and they know that. I bet it’s in the Rich Boys’ Playbook for Ensnaring Women.”

A knowing silence descended on the table.

They all looked up as the waiter delivered their drinks. The dessert cart arrived almost immediately, and Jamilla chose the tiramisu. Liz passed, and Marina selected a slice of the fraisier cake.

As they started to eat their desserts, Jamilla asked casually “Which winery?”

Marina chewed slowly before saying “Which winery what?”

“Which winery did your new mystery man take you to?”

Marina shrugged. “It was a small boutique place. I didn’t really pay too much attention. We went tasting at several of the major wineries, then spent the rest of the time ‘getting to know each other,’ if you know what I mean.”

Liz was now looking from one of them to the other as though she was at Wimbledon. It appeared to be Advantage, Marina. She looked expectantly at Jamilla.

“If you’re trying to steal my husband, Marina, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Ex-husband.” Liz and Marina spoke at the same time. “Perhaps you’re being a touch paranoid, Jamilla?” suggested Marina as an afterthought.

Jamilla recovered herself and smiled. “Of course,” she gritted out “you wouldn’t go after my sloppy seconds, would you?”

Marina waved the waiter over and proffered her card. “Put it all on this. I’m treating my dear friends today. Sorry, ladies, I’ll have to love you and leave you. I have a date waiting.”

Liz pressed her lips together. Game, set and match to Marina.