“Why come to a cafe if every single noise is going to get your panties in a bunch?” she thought to herself.

Her anxiety was building up. In ten minutes she’d be negotiating her dream businesses with her new business partner…and good friend, Dawn. The idea of mixing work and pleasure would have appealed to her if she’d felt that she and Dawn were on the same level of savvy when it came to wheeling and dealing. Alas, the only people she’d ever haggled with were vegetable farmers. She felt out of her league.

Just when River was beginning to contemplate jumping out of her seat and onto the next plane to Bora Bora, Dawn fluttered down like a spinning fall leaf, a leaf in a designer pantsuit.

“Howdy partner!” Dawn slurred in the best imitation a native Californian could ever hope to do a of a southern cowboy.

River smiled shyly, as if they’d first met, “Howdy…you’re in a good mood.”

Dawn lifted her index finger to summon the waitress. “Well, how could I not be? I’ve finally gotten my life figured out.” She lowered her voice to “naughty secret” level. “Have you ever heard of a ‘commuter marriage’?

River mimicked her dramatic tone, “No.”

Dawn pressed her back against the chair and resumed a normal voice level. “You’re about to. Rick’s taking an anchor position in Canada, and I’m staying here with Charlie.”

Suddenly River didn’t feel like the incompetent one. “Wow, congrats…wait, are you serious? Does Rick know about this? How will you-.”

The waitress placed a menu on the table, Dawn snatched it up, annoyed.

“Oh calm down. Don’t be so dramatic. It’s actually not that uncommon you know, for families like mine.”

River stared at her friend. “Like yours?”

Dawn shifted in her chair, wondering how a rock and hard place could come out of nowhere. “Families who have reached a certain level of public significance.”

River felt a bit nauseous and was more sure than ever that this partnership was a mistake.

“Anyway,” Dawn continued pulling papers out of her agenda, “I’m not even sure why I brought that up. Overshare! Let’s get these contracts signed and talk shop! Are you excited or what? I wouldn’t call myself ‘eco-conscious’ but I’m almost positive that the homeless take all the cans out of our outside trash. Mail order green catalog- it’s going to be a huge success.”

Dawn was so engrossed in her monologue that she hadn’t seen River pay for her tea and begin packing up her things.

“So do you have the contract?”

Dawn presented it to River proudly and suddenly noticed that her friend was standing. River coolly took the document and folded it before placing it in her hemp tote.

“I’ll have my lawyer look it over and get back to you.”

Dawn stood and turned to on-the-move River. “What? Where are you going? You have a lawyer?

Navigating through the chair and table cafe jungle, River called back, “Yes, those of us with little social significance can have lawyers. Talk to you soon!”

And with that, Dawn was alone.

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Dawn sat patiently in her black SUV waiting for Charlie to bounce out of his prep school. She hadn’t told him about the inevitable move to Canada that would rip him away from his friends and the life he’d always known. Perhaps she was still in denial herself. One week from now could she actually be living in a downtown Montreal loft? She loved the international city but Capisce was based in California. So was she.

The air inside her vehicle suddenly felt strangling and Dawn pushed the door open and leaned up against the hot steel to catch her breath.

“Get a hold of yourself!” she self-scolded.

“Dawn?” Marianne, Robbie’s mom walked briskly toward her.

“Good afternoon, Marianne!” Dawn’s greeting was unnaturally enthusiastic and louder than she’d intended.

“Good afternoon to you!” Marianne came in for a long hug. “So, is it too early for congratulations?”

Dawn was puzzled, “Sorry?”

“Oh please, everyone knows Rick was offered an amazing position in Canada. When does he move?”

“He move? We’re all going to-”

Marianne put a finger in the air to stop the conversation. “Wait. Don’t tell me for a second that you’re going to leave your entire life here to follow hubby to a foreign country-”.

“It’s Canada, not Taiwan…”

Marianne continued, “Dawn, you have a business here, a son who’s in his formative years. I’ve seen commuter marriages work. Thrive even. Think about it.”

Dawn’s wasn’t sure what to say. Commuter marriage? She was relieved when Charlie ran past her and opened the passenger car door.

“Hey mom, hi Mrs. Peters. Mom, can we stop by Art Surplus on the way home I need a poster board.”

Marianne touched Dawn’s arm. “Just think about it. I’d hate to see you give up everything. Think about your son.”

“Thanks.”

Dawn floated into the driver’s seat and set off to find her son’s emergency art supplies in a daze.

As she wandered through aisles of paper and paints Dawn thought of her time at art school. During those “lean years” of only dreaming about the business she now owned, craft stores like these had been her refuge. The only thing that made eating ramen noodles four nights a week and working three jobs to pay for university worth it was her dream of running a San Francisco-based company while living in Pacific Heights.

Dawn felt like a hypocrite. Over the years she’d given Meeghan such a hard time for abandoning her ambitions for the sake of family. “You can have both-look at me” had always been her reprimand.

Before Dawn paid for Charlie’s supplies, she glanced at her Blackberry to check the time and noticed one unread text message.

Don’t sell out! xx Marianne

She laughed quietly and then bit her lower lip. What if…? A quick Google search in her phone’s browser for “commuter marriages” turned up 629,000 results in .21 seconds. She’d need more reasons and more time than that to sell Rick on the idea. But tonight, she’d try.

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“Macy’s east coast distributors would like to meet with you about creating an exclusive line, here you go,” she handed Dawn a pink Post-It note.

“I’ll review my messages later. I need to make a private call,” she said taking the stack of notes her assistant held.

Dawn walked into the office, closed the door and sank into her smooth leather armchair. She closed her eyes and tried to envision a future that nurtured her husband’s career and hers simultaneously. She spoke into the air, “Canada? Are they serious?”

Dawn used to joke that the only places she’d ever live were San Francisco, New York City, and in first-class flying between them.

She loosely entertained the idea of running her business from the great white north. It was more than possible. Dawn tapped her fingernails on her keyboard trying to ignore the panicky feeling that was creeping up her spine. The idea of leaving Lisa, River, and Meeghan consumed her. Was that why she’d been so generous with River earlier?

A childlike giggle spilled out of her. She recalled River’s face as she held Dawn’s first investor payment in her hands: a check for $250,000. If Rivers’ eyes had grown any bigger they probably would have rolled out onto the sidewalk. No, it wasn’t fear that had led to the hasty transaction; Dawn didn’t hesitate when she saw a viable business opportunity and this was one of them. She just hoped River wouldn’t let an inferiority complex get in the way of potential profits. They’d planned a seminal action plan meeting for the end of the week.

Fingering through her messages, Dawn saw one from her husband. She knew that today was the day corporate was going to let him know whether or not he’d be part of the move. If he was asked to stay on and join the Quebec team that would mean a whole new life for her without her best friends. If he was let go, that would mean everything he’d worked so hard for would be gone.

“Either way, I lose,” she whispered as she dialed his office number.

“WNBC, how may I direct your call?”

Dawn recognized the now-sober assistant’s blog.

“Hi Leslie, it’s Dawn.”

“Oh my gosh,” Leslie gushed, “I am so sorry about the other night. I should have known better than to mix Captain morgan’s and expensive wine…”

“Don’t even worry about it. Is Rick free?”

Leslie paused for a moment before continuing. “Sure. One moment.”

Dawn tried to distract herself with a brightly-colored stack of fabric swatches on her desk.

“Hello?” Rick sounded calm. Too calm.

“Hi Rick, I saw your message and just wanted to check in- how did everything go today?”

Rick took a deep breath.

“It went great.”

“So they kept you on then,” Dawn’s voice was flat in spite trying to force some enthusiasm.

“Yes.”

“Wow. Just, wow. So I guess we have a lot to do over the next few months,” Dawn tried to remain positive.

“Dawn. I start in Quebec next week.”

And suddenly the investor was silent.

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Lisa took a deep breath. For a moment she was overwhelmed by a simultaneous sense of personal power and vulnerability.

Dawn waited patiently and coolly; five years of running an international company had gifted her with the most stoic of poker faces.

“What’s up?”

“Do I even have to ask?”

“Lisa, for the third time, I’m very sorry my secretary sent that letter out. What, do you want me to fire her?”

Lisa cocked her head. “Do I really come off as that stupid?”

The young waitress walked up to the table just in time to hear Lisa’s words. Feeling the tension between the two customers she slithered away before asking if they needed anymore tea. Better to leave them without an abundance of hot liquids should the fight get nasty.

“What in the world are you talking about,” Dawn countered, offended.

“I mean, I know I come off as oblivious sometimes… In my own little angsty world but come on. It’s become crystal clear to me that in the past few months you and my husband have declared war on each other. I want to know why.”

Dawn stared at Lisa like a raccoon about to be flattened by the virgin all-terrain wheels of a speeding Range Rover. Trapped.

Lisa took a deep breath. “Did you and Thomas have an aff-“

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Dawn spit out the words.

Lisa had seen that face before.  It was when they were in Cabo and a boutique owner had made the almost deadly mistake of trying to pass off faux python slingbacks as the real thing.  Why anyone would want to stomp around wearing reptile was beyond Lisa’s imaginative abilities but one thing was clear to her—Dawn was an insulted now as she was then.

She was telling the truth.

A wave of relief slammed over Lisa, washing away the tough chick act. Her posture dropped and hands flew up as she asked, “Then what the hell is going on?!”

Dawn’s face was turned away from the table.

“Dawn?” Lisa was alarmed.

She rose quickly, almost knocking her chair over, and took the seat next to Dawn, who was now rushing to collect herself. Lisa felt terror rise in her, the way a child is scared to the bone when a previously God-like parent exhibits fear for the first time.

Dawn turned to Lisa and locked eyes. She drew a long breath and took Lisa’s clammy hand.

“You are only half correct. Thomas husband did have an affair. But it wasn’t with me.”

Lisa had heard fainters use the expression, “the ground rushed up to meet me,” but never realized how true it was. She didn’t even feel her head hit the floor.

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She could barely enjoy the party. Dawn surveyed the crowd: waiters carrying precariously perched glasses of champagne and a variety of exotic looking hors d’oeuvres weaved between San Francisco’s elite. The in-crowd. She spotted her always-handsome husband laughing gregariously with his studio television executives. That promotion was his. She smiled, imagining what it would be like to see the love of her life on network television reporting the news every night.

Rick saw his wife out of the corner of his eye and winked. She felt her skin flush like a middle school girl with a crush. At any other party she would have walked over and taken his hand but at high society functions the socializing was usually divided by sex. Men talked shop, women talked shopping.

Dawn made her way to the balcony. Spectacular view. The Golden Gate Bridge shimmered like it was covered in gold flecks. She felt the frigid ocean breeze give her goosebumps. Memories of riding through the city in a rusty yellow hatchback with Lisa washed over her. They’d always cruise slowly through Pacific Heights, imagining what types of people owned the towering mansions that seemed to take up a whole city block. Laughing, they’d tip up their noses and speak in obnoxious voices imitating the very people Dawn found herself rubbing shoulders with in her everyday life.

She was truly sorry about the rejection letter but not enough to crawl to her best friend’s apartment and apologize. Dawn squinted her eyes resentfully. “Did Lisa think I’d hire Thomas out of pity?” she thought to herself.

“Crazy woman, I tell you,” she whispered to herself, shaking her head.

“Who’s crazy?”

Dawn turned quickly, startled. A familiar face. Leslie, WNBC’s assistant producer. Queen of the coffee runs, or so Dawn had heard. She looked almost senior producer material in her department store black cocktail dress.

“Oh hi, Leslie. You scared the…,” she looked at her glass, “what are we drinking anyway?”

“It’s the Dom baby. One bottle is worth more than my car payment,” Leslie swallowed hard and smiled loosely.

“Well then you almost scared the overrated champagne out of me.”

Leslie laughed a bit too loud.

Dawn smiled. At least someone was having a good time.

“Maybe you should switch to water. Do you have a ride home?”

Leslie moved into Dawn’s personal space. It’s amazing how the invisible boundary line between two people felt so tangible once violated. Dawn could smell the blend of goat cheese appetizers and alcohol on Leslie’s breath.

“We’ll all be drinking only water soon enough, am I right?”

Dawn stared blankly at Leslie. She wondered if it would be rude to take three giant steps back.

“What are you talking about, Leslie. Seriously, I’ll call you a cab right now.”

“Oh what, you haven’t heard? You darling anchor man didn’t say anything? WNBC has been acquired. Some Canadian company. I knew Canada was more powerful than anyone gave them credit for. It’s all that free health-care. Keeps them strong. That and the maple…maple has antioxidants that-”

Dawn cut her off.

“What? Acquired? What does that mean for the staff?”

Leslie clumsily grabbed a caviar-topped wafer off of a moving tray.

“Well, if you’re a moderately cute assistant producer who can fetch a triple tall nonfat mocha like whoa but has no job security, it means that I’d better create my account on sugardaddy.com tomorrow morning. For the MILF wife of an evening news anchor hopeful, it means she’d better start brushing up on her francais ce soir because they’re shipping most of the evening regulars to their Quebec affiliate.”

Dawn felt like she’d been hit by a truck. A truck full of goat cheese.

She walked past Leslie and scanned the room for her husband. Rick saw her first and guessed by the look on his wife’s face that they’d be up late, and not having the Dom Perignon-fueled romp he’d hoped for.

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A waiter wearing a white jacket and Hawaiian shorts appeared.

“Another piña colada, señorita?”

Her answer was  interrupted by a strange bellowing noise coming from the horizon. It grew louder and louder.

“Mooooom! Mom! Mom!!”

Dawn’s eyes popped open. It took her a moment to recognize her own bedroom.

She turned to Rick, her peacefully sleeping husband, before flying out of the Egyptian cotton cloud and into the hallway.

“Charlie! Can I help you? It’s not even 9 AM?” Weren’t pre-teens supposed to sleep in?

Charlie was at the bottom of the staircase, completely dressed.

“Robbie’s mom is here to take us to Santa Cruz.”

Dawn felt silly for overreacting.

“Ok, Ok, well come up and give me  a proper goodbye,” she said with a smile.

Charlie bounded up the elaborate staircase and hugged his mom like a toddler; generously and freely. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby. Have fun.  See you tonight.”

Dawn walked her son downstairs and waved to his playmate’s mother as they drove away. She glanced down the street amazed at how busy the city already was. What time was it?

A quick glance at the grandfather clock answered her question. 8:40. She paused. Wasn’t there something she was supposed to…Meeghan!

Within 10 minutes a Dawn was in her black SUV making her way towards the Golden Gate Bridge.

As she swerved into the Milk parking area she could already see Meeghan, wearing an ivory sun dress, sitting on the patio. Dawn glanced at her phone 8:58.

“Hello there, sunshine.” Dawn greeted her friend playfully as she walked up to the table.

“Hello yourself. I know a rushed diva-preneur when I see one. You almost took out a family of four as you pulled in.”

They giggled as Dawn took her seat.

Then quiet.

Dawn studied her girlfriend’s face.

“How are you.”

Meeghan played with the napkin in her lap.

“I’m fine. Ok. I’m not really sure. I’ve just been doing a lot of thinking…wondering…wishing. You know. ‘What ifs.’ ”

Dawn waited, saying nothing.

“Dawn, do you ever get the feeling that you made a gigantic bet and lost without even realizing it?”

Dawn smiled sympathetically.

“I guess that’s why it’s important not to gamble with anything you can’t afford to lose.”

The women stared softly at each other in contemplation, both knowing what Meeghan had lost, both wondering if it was possible to recover it.

“May I start you ladies off with a mimosa?” Dawn turned to the waiter and was slightly dissapointed to see him in khaki slacks rather than Hawaiian shorts.

“You absolutely may.”

Dawn turned back to Meeghan. “So. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I look at your life, your family, your career and what you’ve built for yourself and could just kick myself for being so weak. So passive in creating…joy.”

Dawn took her friend’s hand.

“I mean, what was I thinking?” Meeghan started to breathe faster. “Did I really think that I could make up for my own fears by marrying someone with enough courage and ambition for the both of us? What was a I thinking?”

As Meeghan’s voice grew louder, Dawn’s eyes followed grew. Was she really witnessing the emergence of old Meeghan? Oh to have this on camera…Lisa and River would never believe her.

“This is it. I’m done being backseat driver!”

The waiter set the mimosas on the table.

Dawn listened eagerly holding back the urge to speak although her mind was rushing with ideas and images of Meeghan stepping back into the fashion design world and taking the industry by storm. Maybe they’d even go into business together. A smile curled up the edges of her mouth.

“So,” Dawn said quietly, holding back her excitement, “What are you going to do?”

Meeghan elegantly reached for her chilled champagne flute and took a long sip of the bubbly orange liquid.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m getting a divorce.”

One would have thought that as Meeghan’s suddenly steely eyes met Dawn’s shocked ones the result would have been sparks.

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Her phone read 11:25 PM. Neither Lisa or Dawn had returned her calls. She contemplated calling River but hesitated. There was something so untouched, sacred about her earthy friend that made complaining feel like an act of human pollution. Or sacrilege.

In the meantime, another blue pill it would be.

Meeghan stepped back from the deck and curled up in a sturdy, oak patio lounge chair. She sank into the cushion and pulled a cashmere throw over her shoulders. Within seconds she was asleep.

A few minutes later when the always momentarily unfamiliar sound of her ringtone sang, Meeghan jumped.

Dawn.

“Hey,” Meeghan pulled herself to sitting.

“Sorry I’m calling so late.  Charlie had a thing and then we went by the studio to watch Rick’s live broadcast, he really is a shoo-in for the lead anchor position so I figured a family cameo wouldn’t hurt….Are you OK?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Meeghan cleared her throat. She actually did feel a bit better. “It was just Max…dinner…I don’t know.”

Somehow her problems always seemed so trivial when it came time to explain them. Was she supposed to say that her husband, the one who had rescued her from a failing career and given her the life she’d always dreamed of had hurt her feelings?

Dawn was silent.

Both women sat with the discomfort of Meeghan’s situation. Max wasn’t cruel. He was simply unaware. There were probably thousands of women who would love an everyday Extreme Wife Makeover from the inside out, but Meeghan wasn’t one of them and perhaps she’d discovered that too late.

Meeghan started to explain, “I’m not ungrateful for all that he’s done for me, for us. The kids love their life. It’s just that most days I feel like he looks at me like a coat hanger, something empty and unfinished that needs a designer label to be complete.”

Dawn still didn’t know what to say. Should she tell her friend that she saw all of this coming from the minute Max came into her life? Should she tell her that maybe if she hadn’t given up on herself and her goals she never would have been attracted to Mr. Fix-It?

A good friend would never say any of those things.

“I know how you feel. It’s getting late. Let’s meet for breakfast tomorrow.”

Meeghan paused before answering. She knew a filtered response when she heard one.

“9 AM? Milk?” The Sausalito cafe had always been a favorite of theirs.

“Perfect. Try to get some sleep. Love you.”

“You too. Night.”

Meeghan placed her glowing cell phone on the small coffee table and looked out across the black, still water.  She smiled a bit, grateful for friendship even when it was strained by unspoken words.

Tomorrow, she decided, would be an opportunity for truth.

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This was the time of day when busy city people slowed down. Unlike the pulse of the morning where every movement seems hurried and clumsy, late afternoon in San Francisco is like walking in molasses. A calm washes over residents as they zen-fully meditated on dinner plan possibilities, forgive themselves for the day’s shortcomings, and welcome the fierce redness on the horizon as the sun seems to extinguish itself in the bay waters.

It was 4:45 PM.

In fifteen minutes Charlie would begin Taekwando instruction. She loved cheering him on from the sidelines but was glued to her seat, intoxicated by the quietness of it all. A pang of maternal guilt shot through her chest as she pondered spending the next half hour floating in solitary bliss. Like thunder to lightning, the feeling was followed by a bolt of indignant resentment.

“Can a mother take for herself without feeling like a thief?” she wondered silently.

“No,” came the answer from somewhere within the depths of soul, “but do it anyway.”

Dawn giggled as she imagined herself as her own Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. In her case, no gold was exchanged, just rivers of warm self-indulgent moments where she could focus on the eternal woman lurking somewhere behind the title of wife and mother. Unlike Robin Hood, though, she’d definitely wear something form-fitting and hemmed.

The familiar flutter of inspiration landed on Dawn’s head. She hurried to catch it, almost knocking over her mug as she scrambled for her drawing pad. She flipped open the pink notebook with Capisce in black lettering across the front and quickly sketched a medieval-style brown leather pouch: The Robin Hood. She tapped the tip of the pen against her teeth, grinning.

Maybe women wouldn’t store private moments in her new design but it would be great for a lip gloss or two.

The muffled ring of a cell phone jarred her back from dreamland. Dawn eyed the caller ID. Meeghan.  She’d call her back later.

Motivated by sheer willpower and caffeine, Dawn gathered her belongings, took a last long sip of her latte and headed out the door. If she hurried she’d catch the tail end of Taekwando.

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