Impossible

“Who knows? I don't think so. He was married for twenty years before he screwed it up pretty stupidly. But he's also irresponsible as hell … as he puts it, he's a wacky artist.” Although less so lately. “I never thought I'd fall in love with a man nine years younger than I am, and one of my artists. This is like poetic justice, or God's irony, or some kind of joke or something. I had the most respectable life in the world with Arthur, and now I have fallen in love with an overgrown boy, and my whole life is upside down. And Tatianna may never speak to me again.”

“If she doesn't, I'll spank her for you myself. She'll get over it. The whole scene was probably just a shock. For everyone.” Sasha smiled ruefully as she looked at her friend. It was beyond description.

“We were both standing there naked, Liam holding the poker, while she screamed insults at us, and her date looked like he wanted to crawl under the rug, and who could blame him? I slapped her, she slapped me back. I've never laid a hand on her before, and never will again. It was something right out of a bad movie. Here I am, with my younger lover, in her father's bed, as she put it, and we're both standing there naked. My God, Marcie, how much worse could it get?”

“Not much,” Marcie conceded with a grin. “But think of it this way. He could be old, fat, bald, ugly, and over the hill, and then think of what he would have looked like standing there naked, holding the poker. If you ask me, you're goddamn lucky it's him. Listen, you've been single for about ten minutes. I've been single all my life, and probably always will be, not because I love it so much, but because there's no one out there. There are either bitter divorced guys paying alimony they resent all women for, screwed-up widowers who think their dead wives were perfect and have forgotten how much they hated them when they were alive, and you can never in a million years measure up to them, there are commitment phobics, drunks, druggies, mean guys, abusers, guys who hate women, guys who are secretly gay, and others who are openly gay and want to wear your dresses, there are boring ones who aren't worth the trouble, guys who smell bad, look bad, are bad, and old guys who can't get it up even with Viagra. I haven't found a guy I could fall in love with in ten years, and I haven't gotten laid in three. I long ago gave up the idea of being in love with the guys I sleep with, or having them be in love with me. Because if I hold on to my principles, which used to be so important to me, then for sure I'm never going to get laid again, and I might not anyway. It sure looks that way. So you're worried about a nine-year age difference with a gorgeous, talented, nice guy you're in love with and who's crazy about you? Tell Tatianna to put a sock in it and get over it. If you don't, I will.”

It was quite a speech, and Sasha knew it was heartfelt. Marcie was a wonderful woman, not beautiful, but nice looking, decently dressed, a dozen pounds overweight, though nothing one couldn't live with. She was intelligent, well educated, and well paid, and one of the nicest people Sasha had ever known. She also knew that Marcie hadn't had a man in her life in years. There was nothing wrong with her, she just couldn't find one. And no one had bothered or tried to find her. There were a lot of women like that, they both knew, in all walks of life, at every social level, and at every age. People couldn't seem to find each other anymore, which was why computer dating had become so appealing. Sasha had urged Marcie to try it several times, but she was too scared. Sasha wasn't totally convinced she was wrong. Meeting up with strangers on the Internet sounded dangerous to her. What she was saying to Sasha was sensible, and Sasha knew she meant well. She thought Sasha was the luckiest woman in the world to have Liam, and he was the luckiest man to have her. And if Tatianna didn't like it, then too bad for her. Marcie looked incensed when she heard the things Tatianna had said to her mother.

“You really don't think it's shocking that I'm nine years older?” Sasha asked cautiously, still looking sheepish. She was grateful to know that Marcie approved.