Free There's Cake in My Future by Kim Gruenenfelder

the same schedule you had before, just with your dad and me having you on opposite days than we did last year.”
    “But what about our family cruise?” Megan asks. “It’s next week.”
    From the look on her face, I can tell Jacquie hadn’t thought that one through. “Well…” she stalls. “We can still go. Just not next week.”
    Megan gets a look of disgust on her face that should be reserved for teenaged girls and Simon Cowell. “Malika has been looking forward to that trip for six months!” she nearly screams at her mother. “You already postponed it once. How can you do it again?”
    “Honey, I have to work,” Jacquie tells her apologetically. “We’ll find a different time.” Jacquie looks over at us. Her face lights up as she says, “And you’ll love Italy.”
    Say what now?
    Jason and I have the conversation that only couples can, which consists of no words and fleeting looks.
    First look, a pleading expression from Jason: I’m sorry.
    Second look, a shrug from me: It’s okay. It’ll be fine. They can come.
    Third look, relief from Jason: I love you so much.
    “Who goes with their dad on his honeymoon?” Megan asks in disgust.
    “Lots of kids go on honeymoons with their parents,” Jacquie assures her. “I’ve read about the trips. They’re called familymoons. Why, I’m sure your dad and Nic could find you guys amazing things to do in Venice. They have gondolas, and pizza, which you love. Plus there’s…”
    As Jacquie continues to sell her firstborn on the idea of Italy, I look up to see Malika, standing at the top of the stairs, silent and devastated. “But why can’t they just come on the cruise with us?” she begs her mother.
    The girl looks heartbroken. Utterly heartbroken. As her mother walks up to her, she bursts into tears.
    How can I enjoy the romance of Italy, knowing it came at the expense of a five-year-old’s happiness?
    I immediately walk up the stairs and kneel down to be at eye level with Jason’s little girl. Then I muster up all the enthusiasm and excitement I have in me and tell her, “You know what would be really cool after the cruise is if the four of us went to Epcot. I hear they have a pretend St. Mark’s Square that’s even better than the real thing.”

Eight
    Melissa
    By 3:00 A.M. , Scott has gone home, Seema is in her room, and I’m in my old bedroom at her place, the one I lived in before Fred and I moved in together.
    My old room.
    God damn it. I loved living here—don’t get me wrong. I love my friends, I loved feeling like part of a family that I picked out, and being surrounded by people who loved me and accepted me for who I really am.
    But, at the same time, when I moved out, I felt a little smug. Not smug—that might be the wrong word. But I was the first one of us to move in with the love of her life. And, at the time, I thought I was just months away from being the first of us to get engaged.
    Back then, I was absolutely giddy that my life was moving forward. I had been sure that I was the smartest and the luckiest of the three of us. In my mind, I was the chosen one, because someone had literally chosen me! I wasn’t quite thirty yet, but I had managed to figure out the secret to having it all: a job I loved and a boyfriend who wanted me to move in. (Fine, allowed me to move in. But I’m not the first woman in the world who ever gave an ultimatum. I’m not even the first one today.)
    And now, at thirty-two, my life has just taken a giant fucking U-turn, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
    I feel completely powerless, helpless, and useless.
    And as much as I know I have to leave, my mind is racing for something he can do to win me back.
    The rest of the evening wasn’t too bad. Fred called a bunch of times but, with the help of my friends, I had the strength not to answer the phone. Scott went to Fred’s house and packed a whole suitcase for me. I have no idea what he said to Fred, but somehow he managed to convince