Going in Circles by Pamela Ribon Read Free Book Online

been hearing her complain about a lamp,” he says. “I need my wife to have more friends. Do you girls honestly call each other and complain about lamps? How do you stand each other all day?”
    â€œThank you for my lunch.”
    â€œHonestly, I didn’t do that.”
    â€œOkay, play it that way,” I say, as I turn back toward my computer. I glance at the screen and then freeze.
    For the first time in a long time, there’s an email from Matthew. Subject line: PLEASE READ .
    This can’t be good. Lots of other subject lines out there he could have chosen. This one needs attention.
My
attention. My hand trembles as I drag the mouse and click.
    C—I was trying to make some room for my weight bench, and I was wondering if you would come pick up your sewing machine. I’ll put it in the closet if you don’t want it, but I thought I’d offer before I moved it.—M.
    When I read the message to Jonathan I can’t help the sarcasm that pours out of me. I practically shout the initials Matthew used as placeholders for our names. As if anybody ever calls me C. As if that’s how we talked to each other. “Oh,
C,
my darling. My sweet. My one and only. I love you. I love you,
C.
”
    But somehow Jonathan doesn’t get how flippant and arrogant Matthew’s message sounds. Instead he asks, “So, are you going to pick up the sewing machine?”
    â€œI think there are more important things to talk about than the sewing machine,” I scoff.
    He slumps down in his chair, the heel of his right hand mashing his forehead. “Oh, no. Don’t go crazy.”
    I play with the mouse cord, bending it into little loops. “I’m not. I won’t.”
    â€œYou
are.
I see your loony brain working. You’re making a big deal out of a couple of sentences.”
    â€œWell, in those couple of sentences he’s saying a lot.”
    â€œHe’s saying he wants to make room for his weight bench.”
    â€œObviously he wants to exercise more.”
    â€œWhat an asshole.”
    I rip open the Happy Meal bag, stuffing cold french fries into my mouth. As the only thing that truly soothes a woman scorned is chilled salty potato.
    â€œI know you know what this means,” I say.
    â€œHe wants to be in better shape?” Jonathan snakes his hand up the bottom of his shirt to root around his belly button.The friendship boundary between us has long been clearly defined and is constantly reinforced.
    â€œExactly. To impress someone. Someone obviously not me, because he wouldn’t want to move my things to do it.”
    â€œWhere does he keep his weight bench now?”
    â€œThat’s the thing. He didn’t have a weight bench when we were together. This is new. This is New Matthew, the one who works out with a weight bench.”
    â€œI think if he was really looking to meet chicks, he’d go to the gym. Not work out at home. How lazy is that dude?”
    I shove more fries into my mouth, enjoying the mushy-salty feel against my tongue. I shrug. “He’s trying to claim territory in the house. That’s why he wants me to go get my sewing machine.”
    â€œYou don’t have to go get it. He said he’d put it in the closet.”
    â€œOh, great. Off to the closet with memories of me!”
    He leans over to steal one of my fries, and then steals five more while he’s chewing the first one. “When was the last time you used that sewing machine?”
    â€œThat is not the point.”
    â€œI’m done with this,” Jonathan says, turning back around to his desk.
    My computer dings. More email. This time it’s from Petra.
    R U COMING 2 MY GIRLS NITE PARTY TOMOOROW NITE?—P.
    Shit.
    Besides being functionally illiterate, Petra is a friend and coworker. Well, she started as Matthew’s best friend’s girlfriend, which made her a forced friend (but one I genuinelyenjoyed) whom I helped get a