I have to go to dinner tonight.

We are meeting the Rubin’s – Alan and Adele,that is.

Technically, we are family.  And we will meet them for dinner.

After 5 years, they finally asked to meet us for dinner.

You see, although we are family, we have never shared a birthday or high holidays or a cup of coffee.  We have never shared a hello, how are you, welcome to the family.

We have never shared.

Family.

So simple yet so complex.  Adele blames me for the demise of Freddie’s marriage.

In her eyes, I was the other woman that broke up their perfect existence.

Except there was no such perfect existence.

There was simply an existence.

And I came along and added a tangential existence.

She’s never actually said all this.  She’s never said anything to me.

Nothing.

The other woman.   It’s not a role I think I deserve.

Alan called a few weeks ago and casually said Adele was ready.

As I heard the words travel from the speakerphone I thought, ready?  Ready for what?

Adele is finally ready and we must all now go to dinner, be a family, and share in long overdue beginnings?

What about me?  Am I ready?  No one’s asked me.  What will we talk about?

What have you been up to these last five years?

No.