I'm on my third martini when he walks in, alone.

The restaurant is tasteful and elegant and full of the up and coming marketing and advertising execs and their vapid clients, the kind who come in an oblivious thirty minutes late, order the most expensive item on the menu, and walk out to a waiting silver limo. Spotless white tablecloths and black tapered candles and a waiter who has smiled very appreciatively at me every time he's come by to take another drink order.

But he's in a coal-black Armani suit. Hands in his pockets. He smiles easily at the head waiter, nods as he's directed to my table. His eyes light up when he sees me, as if we parted only yesterday and on the best of terms. In truth I've been in Europe for two years, until yesterday, and he called me all of three times.

Still, still, and I can feel that I'm off balance from the vodka and the vodka and the dim eye-watering candlelight, but he looks good. Even more polished, more suave. Domesticated. He bends to give me a kiss on the cheek, a friendly one, and I return the gesture, leaving the light press of angel-red lipstick next to his mouth.

"Been a while."

"Two years," I tell him, and I roll the stem of my martini glass slowly between my fingers.

"You look good," he says.

I smile and dip my eyes while I think, Of course I look good. I spent two days perfectly coordinating this outfit, so I could meet you and your new wife and look great doing it. I'm in flame-red, shimmering satin, and it hugs every single one of my curves. "I try."

"What have you been up to?"

"Oh, the usual." He's looking at my flawless nails and I'm looking at his wedding ring. I missed his wedding. I missed it, when practically from the first day I'd met him I'd known I'd be walking down the aisle to him, my skirt swishing at my ankles, a bouquet in my hands. But the crystal vase I sent was exquisite, flawless, and will look utterly gorgeous holding the dozens of roses he'll be bringing home to her for the rest of his life. I shrug. "Life's been a little bit crazy."

"I know," he says. He looks down at the ring I've been staring at for the past minute and makes a little incredulous noise. "I'm married, and we're buying a house. Me. Can you imagine that? Mortgages and loans and interest rates." He shakes his head, but his eyes are glowing, betraying him. He loves every minute of it.

And I really need some more martini.

But I smile. "It suits you, Ned."

"You think?"

I nod, carefully. "I do. And I'm really sorry i couldn't make it to the wedding. She's a lucky girl."

"And I make sure she knows it, every day." He smiles and takes a long sip of his iced water before the waiter arrives with his beer. Non-alcoholic.

But he doesn't order.

"She'll be here soon," he promises. Then his warm brown eyes light on my glass, and meet my gaze again. "Another?"

I can't have another. Because for all this, the perfect outfit, for all of it, I'm not the one with the ring on my left hand. I'm not the one signing a mortgage for two and a half bathrooms and a pair of walk-in closets.

And I could have been. Seeing him in front of me, with the smile that could make any girl's knees go weak, I know I could have been.

"No, no," I protest softly. "I'll switch to water. Because we have to have a toast once she gets here. Since I wasn't at the wedding."

Ned smiles, and my knees are weak.

And then I see her, the girl-- the woman he married. She's in black, a fringed shawl over her bare slim shoulders, her hair in a loose sophisticated ponytail. Utterly radiant.

"Nancy!"

"Bess!" she cries, and she wraps her arms around me and we're clinging to each other for dear life. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

"I can't believe you got married without me!" I say, and she ducks her head. "By the time I got my invitation, it was too late."

Nancy smiles and looks over at Ned. The diamond on her finger is stunning. Ned jumps to his feet and pulls out her chair, and she sinks into it gracefully, gratefully. "I know. When we reaffirm our vows in ten years, you can totally be my maid of honor."

They are so bright over dinner, once we've ordered and my head is a little bit clearer. Ned's quietly confident and Nancy has a job she loves and they're still in the first blush, still finishing each other's sentences, still momentarily speechless when their gazes lock.

And I am a third where there are only two.

It's nothing new but I've been gone and now my best friend is married and yesterday she called me, fresh off the plane, to tell me that she's pregnant. And I love her, and she is happier than I've ever seen her. Two years apart, she's married with a baby on the way and I have three new ex-boyfriends to show for it.

"To you two," I declare, lifting my glass. "To the happiest couple I've ever known."

"Hear hear," Ned says, all smiles. But the expression in his eyes is all for her.

"May you be as happy as we are one day," Nancy says softly, her sparkling grape juice held aloft.

And that's when I decide. Three martinis and a soft wish are all it takes.

"Not may," I tell her, my eyes flashing. "I will. Bess Marvin will accept nothing less."

Nancy grins at me, dips her head in affirmation. "Nothing less."

Three martinis, two pearl-drop earrings, and a partridge in a pear tree.

"Merry Christmas," I say softly. "Merry Christmas."