But I’d lasted. Because the bottom line was — I needed more before I could make a decision. I just didn’t know when, where or how I would get information to find out one way or the other.

I pushed all those thoughts aside, though, as I strolled from the parking garage and into Georgia Brown’s. I certainly didn’t want to have this on my mind as I met with Sonya and Cecily, which was why I’d decided to arrive fifteen minutes early. I wanted to give myself time to settle down and have my game face on because I didn’t want either of them, especially Sonya, to pick up on any of my distress. The last time Sonya had seen me, I was rushing from her apartment. Today my facade would be cool and ever so collected.

At the hostess stand, I was just about to ask for our reservation, when I saw Sonya and Cecily, already seated at a table by the window. I glanced at my watch; had I mixed up the time?

I pointed to them as I passed the hostess and weaved my way through the tables. Sonya and Cecily hadn’t seen me yet; they were too involved in their conversation. Their heads were down, close together as they whispered.

They didn’t even notice when I stood at the table. “Hello.”

Both of them looked up, startled. “Oh, Ginger,” Sonya said. “I didn’t see you come in.”

She stood to hug me and as I slipped into the chair across from her, I said, “I can tell.” Turning to my right, I said, “Cecily.” My greeting was curt, I knew that. But I never had much to say to her and the vice versa was true, too.

“What’s up, girl?” she said as if we were friends.

I didn’t know what that was about, but I said, “I’m good. So you two got here early.”

They exchanged a glance before Sonya said, “My mother always told me if you’re fifteen minutes early, you’re on time.”

“Then, I’m right on time,” I said. “Because I was trying to get here fifteen minutes early.”

“Great,” Sonya said. “Well, let’s order and then we can get to the business at hand.”

Cecily and I nodded together, probably the only thing we would agree on at this meeting. As I perused the menu, on the sly I studied Sonya and Cecily. As always, they were both put together, though Sonya was the much more matronly one with the scooped neck rose-colored dress she wore that fell almost to her calves. Cecily hadn’t stood, but I didn’t have to see the hem of her spaghetti-strap sundress. Every skirt or dress she wore, barely skimmed her knees and her shoe game was almost as on point as mine.