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160 pages, Hardcover
Published November 30, 2020
For an intrinsic facet of being disliked was racking your brain for whatever it was that rubbed other people so radically the wrong way. They rarely told you to your face, so you were left with a burgeoning list of obnoxious characteristics that you compiled for them. So Jillian would demote her garb from festive to garish or even vulgar, and suddenly see how her offbeat thrift shop ensembles, replete with velvet vests, broad belts, tiered skirts, and enough scarves to kill Isadora Duncan three times over, could seem to demonstrate attention-seeking behaviour. A clear, forceful voice was to the leery merely loud, and whenever she suppressed the volume the better to give no offense, she simply became inaudible, which was maddening, too.Fortunately, though, she has Bobo who has no trouble seeing past her falderalness. Although they’ve been friends for years there have been times—two times to be precise—when their relationship devolved—evolved? side-shifted? not sure—to the level “of what [was] then called fuck buddies and later friends with benefits.” But that’s all in the past:
Jillian loved Baba in a round, encompassing, roomy way, and if she still found him technically attractive, the sensation was purely aesthetic. She enjoyed being in his physical company the way she enjoyed sitting in a smartly decorated restaurant. This pleasing feeling didn’t induce any need to do something about it, any more than she ever experienced the urge to fuck a dining room.They meet three times a week—Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays—to play tennis. That’s their thing. And everything had been going swimmingly for years until Paige installed herself in Weston’s life and the two women come head to head:
[…]
They had known each other for twenty-four years, and never in all that time had an interloper laid claim to the superlative. That exercise in mutual devastation was inoculating, and raised the relationship to what at least felt like a higher spiritual plane. Post-romance, post-sex, neither was tortured with curiosity about the twining of each other’s limbs. Baba wasn’t circumcised; Jillian refused to shave her bikini line: their secrets were out. It was a certain bet that, having survived the worst, they really would be best friends forever, thereby proving to the rest of the world that there was such a thing.
Their first meeting: That hadn’t been a slightly inept young woman with a tendency to blurt her fiercely held convictions. It was an outburst of immediate, uncontrollable aversion of a kind Jillian should have recognized. Because Paige would already have heard as much about Jillian as Jillian had heard about her, chances were high that Paige had prehated her, much as one preorders a book, or a burial plot.But Jillian, being Jillian, doesn’t see the signs. Weston has no choice but to see them but he’s keen for the two women in his life to get on and he does everything he can to pour oil on troubled waters and prays things will get better. Like that’s going to happen. The thing is he really has the best of both worlds with these two. Jillian meets some of his needs and Paige satisfies the rest. That his best friend and the woman who’s to become his wife were going to very different people was to be expected. That even he could see. That he was going to have to choose between the two comes as a great surprise to him. Which it shouldn’t have. But then he’s not the savviest.