3. Goldie
Chapter 3
Goldie
W ILLA GLARES AT me when I skip into Dash In Diner the next morning for one of the few shifts I keep. Even though I’m full-time at the local paper, I can’t quite give up waiting tables here; it’s my family history, and I love it. Our parents started the diner before we were born, and even though Willa is in the process of buying it from them, they’re still here, too. We’ve grown up here, the both of us gravitating into our respective areas: Willa in the kitchen with Dad, and me up front with Mom.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
She points a chef’s knife at me, bits of diced onions falling off the blade as she speaks. “Don’t ever let me drink tequila and eat carrot cake at the same time.”
I laugh. “Sounds like a you problem, Wills. I feel fine.” And I do.
She huffs and goes back to chopping.
Mom sidles up and drops a container of silverware on the counter before me, and I grab a stack of napkins to start rolling.
“I hear that you told Agatha to stop setting you up,” Mom starts.
I glance at Willa, who snorts and keeps her eyes on her work. “I did,” I hedge.
“But I thought you were having such a nice time.” Mom pouts as she speaks, throwing me a lower lip big enough to make a toddler proud.
I laugh. “Mom, I was having a terrible time.”
She waves at Willa. “She complained about Reid, too, and look what happened!”
“Reid doesn’t own an African Grey that he showers with,” I shoot back.
Mom opens her mouth, then shuts it.
I shrug. “Exactly.”
She sighs. “I just want both my girls happy. When I was your age?—”
“Barbara,” Dad calls from the back. “Leave her alone.”
I giggle and beam in Dad’s direction even though he can’t see me. “Thanks, Daddy!”
Willa snorts again and Mom mutters to herself.
I give Mom a side hug. “Come on, Mom,” I wheedle. “Don’t be mad that your baby girl is single. It’ll happen when it’s supposed to.”
Mom grumbles good-naturedly, then plants a kiss on my cheek. I know she means well, and in her defense, I was always the one with a steady string of boyfriends through high school, college, and a few years beyond that. But none of them ever stuck, and the past few years have seen most of the eligible guys get snapped up left and right. And honestly? It’s okay. Mostly. For years, I was only ever out for a good time. I’m focused on the paper now, and that takes up a decent amount of time.
The clock makes its way to seven, and we open up. Tom and Jerry are first in, like they are every day, setting up at the end of the counter to gossip like two old hens and drink more coffee than can possibly be good for them. They’re staples of Lucky, but even more, they’re staples of the diner. If I didn’t see the two of them posted up for hours at the diner on a daily basis, I think the world might actually stop turning.
Jerry pulls his ball cap off his nearly-bald head and sets it to the right of him on the counter. Tom adjusts his red suspenders before taking his seat next to his best friend and smiling broadly at me.
I pour their coffee. “What’ll it be, boys?” They change their order every day, bless them.
“Jerry wants the hangover omelet,” Tom says.
“And Tom wants the full breakfast, eggs over easy, toast extra crispy, bacon nearly black, extra butter in the grits.”
I write their orders down with a grin, then put them in the wheel for Willa.
I hand Tom and Jerry over to Mom and handle the dining room. It’s a relatively small diner, with a counter that seats eight, then ten four-tops and five two-tops in the dining room. When I’m waiting tables, I can usually handle it all without any issues.
Midway through the morning, my phone pings. I set down the orders for table seven, then pull my phone out as I walk back to the counter.
The notification is one that I haven’t seen in, well, ever.
YOU’VE BEEN MATCHED
Huh.
It’s the Blinding Love app. I stare at the words, in all caps and with no punctuation, and try to remember the last time I used the app.
Realization hits like a stack of pancakes, heavy and solid with a thud. When I was with Annie. Cousin Annie, who’d gone on to find someone who may not exactly be her happily ever after, but someone who is definitely making her happy a full year later.
I look at the words again.
YOU’VE BEEN MATCHED
It’s the first time I’ve matched with anyone the entire time I’ve been on this app. And considering any time I turn other apps on, I match or get interest from people pretty much immediately, not matching with anyone on this one was pretty humbling at first. Am I so off-putting to people that my face is the only saving grace? But I got over it after a month of nothing happening—their loss—and eventually, I forgot all about the app.
I’m surprised the thing still alerted. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve used it.
Still. It’s hard not to swipe open the app and see what the person I matched with is like.
The problem is that they’ll see I’ve looked.
I shove my phone into my back pocket and keep working.
Ox shows up at lunchtime, bellying up to the bar like the massive man he is. Mom takes care of him, but I stop what I’m doing when I hear him mention his twin.
“Craziest thing,” he’s saying. “I’m surprised he even deigned to go on the show, let alone actually found love.”
After glancing at the dining room to make sure all my tables are good, I turn my attention fully to Ox. “Start at the beginning,” I demand. “Did you say Levi went on a show?”
Ox grins. “He did. There’s this show that matches people up based on some application they fill out. Turns out that Levi matched with a woman he went to law school with—and he hated her back then,” he chuckles.
I put my tray down and lean forward on the counter. “What happened?”
“Apparently, they had to stay in a pretty small house for twenty-four hours. Whole premise is to see if you want to try a relationship with the person after living with them for a whole day or not.”
“And?” I urge, far more invested in this than I should be.
He smiles, and it’s so genuinely happy that it makes my heart hurt. “They’re together. Thin line between love and hate, and all that.”
Jerry slaps the counter and leans into Tom. “Told ya!”
Tom scowls. “You didn’t tell me squat, old man.”
“I told you that Levi would find love before our Chief here.”
“You said that twenty years ago after Levi got caught kissing your granddaughter behind the football stands,” Tom grumbles. “That doesn’t count.”
Jerry sips his coffee contentedly. “Does, too.”
I leave the old-timers to their bickering, my phone practically burning a hole in my back pocket. The timing of Ox’s story feels almost like fate. If grumpy Levi Hall can find love in a twenty-four-hour television show, of all things, then what’s stopping me from seeing who I matched with on Blinding Love?
Willa and I finish up at the same time, and I show her the notification as we’re walking to our cars.
She doesn’t hesitate. “Open it.”
I bite my lip. I don’t know why this feels different, but it does. “You think so?”
She shrugs, pulling her hair out of its ponytail and scratching her scalp with a satisfied groan. “You’ve already been set up on some doozies by Agatha.”
“Not because I asked her to.”
“No—you’ve just been too nice to tell her to stop.”
“Until now,” I point out.
“This can’t possibly be any worse, right?”
I laugh sadly. “I want to be mad at you for saying that, but you’re right. I’ll do it.”
Willa straightens and studies me. “Hey. This is probably gonna be great. You’re Goldie. Beautiful, sunshine incarnate Goldie.” She grins wickedly. “Whoever’s on the other end won’t know what hit ‘em.”
This time, my laugh is sincere. “You’re right about that.”
Agatha’s waiting on me when I get home, calling out that she’s got another nice boy for me if I’m interested.
And if that doesn’t convince me to open the damn app, nothing will.