Cheating on Myself by Erin Downing Page A

really cool band, but is also married with kids. Probably cheating.” She shrugged. “But that’s just the mommy gossip. Remember, we make stuff up to keep things interesting.”
    Cat and I watched the band in silence for a while then. I thought about how uninhibited Pippa, Heidi, and the other kids were up in front of the stage. I envied their complete lack of self-consciousness. I couldn’t help but think of all the times I’d been somewhere with Erik, and we’d both been so fixated on how we might be perceived by others that we failed to try something new or have a good time.
    Like Justin Frederick’s thirtieth birthday party, which had been at a gymnastics center, when Erik and I had stood laughing on the sidelines instead of swinging and trampolining with our friends because neither of us was particularly physically capable. Or Lily’s annual Halloween party, where Erik and I had worn the same boring, generic superhero costumes for six years in a row because it was easy and efficient. Or our permanent role as designated drivers at all our friends’ and coworkers’ weddings, which meant I’d never been even a little bit embarrassed about my behavior the day after a wedding.
    I suddenly wanted to dance. So I jogged over to the girls and held their little hands in mine and swayed to the rockabilly beat. They cheered and giggled as we all bounced to the music, and when the set was over, I didn’t think twice about joining the girls in line to get CDs signed by the band. When we got to the front of the line, the girls ran forward and hugged each member of the Dog Hounds like they were old friends.
    The guys in the band were super-sweet with the kids, and gave the girls high-fives and asked them about school. I stood back, letting Pippa talk all about preschool. As she talked, Joe looked up and me and winked. I furrowed my brow, wondering what the wink meant. Despite the wink, he was so hot. Smoldering, sexy musician hot. My insides squirmed as I watched how he stroked his banjo and thought about what his hands would feel like on my body. Why did charming guys always have to be something skeevy, like musicians or investment bankers? Okay, investment bankers weren’t charming, but they were rich and, according to Lily, it was the same thing.
    I smiled at Joe, and he grinned back.
    “Hey,” he said, all smooth smarm and charm. “Did you like the show, pretty lady?” Pippa and Heidi were each talking to one of the other guys in the band, allowing him to step over toward me.
    I stepped backward a hair. “Yep. Good stuff.” I smiled thinly. Not falling for it.
    “I recognize these girls,” he said, gesturing the Pippa and Heidi. “You’re not usually with them. Are you the new nanny?”
    I laughed, then realized I had the opportunity to give myself a whole new identity. “Yes, that’s right. I’m the girls’ nanny.”
    He nodded. “Well, cool. I hope we see you at another show soon…” He looked at me questioningly, obviously waiting for my name.
    “Stella.”
    “Well, Stella, I’m Joe.” He grinned in a way that made it clear he thought he was really something, and then the girls pulled me back toward Cat again. When I looked back as we walked across the lawn, Joe tipped his hat at me, and I felt a lot giddier than I would have expected. Who knew I was the type of girl to swoon over a “rock star?”
     
    * * *
     
    “I miss Erik,” I announced to Anders as I tucked my curls back with bobby pins for my date. I was going out with someone named Stephen, an accountant, and about as excited about it as I’d been about Jonathan after our date. But he looked cute in his online photos, and he and I seemed to be a decent match. His online profile had droned on and on about goals and strategies for his life, and I found the type-A tendencies somewhat comforting. I hadn’t yet told Anders who I’d picked for this date. “I haven’t talked to him in almost three weeks.”
    Anders buttoned his shirt