Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
Haleigh circled the table for the fifth time, then rearranged the chairs so there were three on each side and no one at the head or foot.
“Equalizes the power dynamics,” she mumbled to herself. “Gives the impression we’re in this together.” A romantic democracy, of sorts.
Except everyone here would be voting on her love life, so she didn’t really have the same power as the rest of them. Or any power at all, assuming she could actually bring herself to go through with this.
The idea had sounded so great two days ago when she was scheming on the phone with Jack. And again yesterday, when she’d invited everyone out for dinner tonight at her favorite Thai restaurant.
But Haleigh’s insides began screaming the moment she stepped foot into Wild Basil. Abort mission! Eject! Run!
Reaching for the key around her neck, she closed her eyes and breathed slowly through her mouth. The metal had absorbed the winter air on her walk over, a bite of cold against her palm. The sensation gave her something else to focus on.
A little over two inches in length, with an ornately curled handle and one short shaft in the shape of a T, the bronze pendant had been a staple of her wardrobe for so long that her sister called it her security blanket. Which wasn’t too far off the mark, though Haleigh would never admit that to Joey. She’d bought it her senior year of high school after doing a research paper on the symbolism of keys for her English class. Skeleton keys were supposed to be able to open any lock, and Haleigh had been feeling so trapped by her anxiety and intrusive thoughts that the idea of some kind of object that could free her (or lock her anxiety away) had stuck with her. She’d worn it almost every day since. It reminded her that she could get control over her panic no matter how much she felt like she was drowning in it.
And boy did she need that reminder right now. Her heart was pounding, and her stomach swirled, and Haleigh couldn’t calm her mind enough to tell if this response was a primal warning from her lizard brain that she was about to embark on a real, actual date-pocalypse, or if she was just terrified to give up this much control.
She glanced down at her phone. Their reservation wasn’t for another half hour, but the Berkshires lived by the rule that if you weren’t at least twenty minutes early, you were late. If she was going to chicken out, she had about ten minutes left to do it.
She dropped into the closest seat to keep herself from sprinting for the door. She had no reason to be this worried. Yes, there’d be some more bad dates, except this time, they’d have a purpose. The whole point of the scheme she and Jack had cooked up was to show her family and Stanton that dating in the time of the internet was basically an extreme sport. Everyone should have to wear intense protective gear and go through months of training before being let loose on the apps.
She almost laughed at the thought. Imagine if someone was out there teaching men the dos and don’ts of dick pics.
Penis Photography 101: Etiquette and Ethics, or, why no one wants to see your genitals before they see your face.
Across the restaurant, the door chimes rang, and Joey strode in.
Haleigh’s sister was two years older than her, but for Haleigh’s whole life, it had felt more like two decades. By age six, Joey was giving Haleigh daily lectures on how to best keep her room clean and organized. At ten, she’d set up a whiteboard in the kitchen to keep track of their chores and homework. That blindingly white surface, sliced through with Joey’s knife-like handwriting in fine-point marker, lived forever in Haleigh’s memories. The more important the task, the bolder the color; the closer it loomed, the more underlines Joey would add. The first thing Haleigh did when her sister left for college—at Harvard, of course—was tear the thing off the wall and shove it in a trash can.
It was like Joey had known, even before Haleigh was old enough to have a fully realized personality, that she would turn out to be a disaster, and she was doing everything in her big-sister power to prevent the inevitable.
Never once did she consider that Haleigh might want to find her own way.
A concerned frown, the one that made Haleigh feel like a five-year-old covered in fingerpaints and running toward the pristine white couch, was already creasing Joey’s mouth as she headed toward the table.
“Hey.” She stopped, breathless, at the first chair, her fingers flying across her phone’s keyboard. “Sorry. Just give me a second.” The severe cut of her chocolate-brown bob feathered against her chin with the shake of her head. Her dark eyes scanned the screen for an intense beat before she fired off another text. “We haven’t even graduated yet, and Whit is already panicking about the bar exam. You’d think we hadn’t already secured spots in the best prep class. And it’s not like either of us took three L lightly.” She smoothed the front of her shirt.
Haleigh would never understand how she and her sister had such similar bodies—apron bellies, large breasts, wide hips and thighs—and yet clothes never behaved the same on them. Haleigh had been in her jersey dress for an hour and it already had creases, yet Joey’s white button-down and khaki cigarette pants had survived a full day at work without a wrinkle or a stain. Just one of the countless ways that her sister was the very opposite of a mess.
“Three L?”
“Our third year of law school.” Setting her phone on the table, Joey hung her purse on her chair and settled into the seat across from Haleigh. “So how are you?” She didn’t give her a chance to respond before adding, “You were so cryptic on the phone. What’s going on?”
Haleigh and Jack had agreed that the element of surprise was a must. She didn’t want anyone to have time to prepare counterarguments.
“I’ll explain when everyone gets here.”
Joey’s eyes bounced between the empty chairs. “Everyone?”
“Mom, Pépère—”
“If this was a family thing, I would have brought Whit—”
“—Stanton, and Jack.”
Joey seemed to be waiting for Haleigh to say more. When she didn’t, her sister finally asked, “How’s work, then?”
The only form of small talk Joey could manage. “The same.”
“Mom said you had another client sign with an agent—”
“Because I’m a good editor,” Haleigh cut in, bristling. Of course, Joey would see this as a loss, not a testament to Haleigh’s skill or a promise of referrals.
Joey sighed. “I know you are. I wish you’d come over to the firm and be one of our legal proofreaders. You could still freelance on the side.”
Haleigh cleared her throat. “I’m sure it’s a great job, but I don’t really want to work in a legal field.” The thought of getting up at the same time every day, commuting to the same office, having to wear business-casual clothes like her sister’s, reading the same documents over and over—that might have been Joey’s dream, but it wasn’t what Haleigh wanted from her life. And every time her sister brought it up, it felt less like a suggestion and more like a critique of Haleigh’s choices.
“Haleigh, the starting salary is in the sixties.”
“I can find something on my own. I’ve been looking into positions at publishing houses and newspapers and magazines.” At least Haleigh would be, as soon as she found the time and energy. That had always been the plan.
A resigned expression settled across Joey’s face, but the arrival of their mom, their grandfather, and Jack rescued Haleigh from whatever her sister had planned to say next.
Jack was grinning broadly at Pépère as they walked in. “Roger, you should run for office. You’d fix the whole world.”
Haleigh and Joey groaned at the same time. “You know better than to encourage him,” Haleigh said.
Pépère shook his head. “I was simply explaining that the city needs to find new solutions for parking. There are too many people and not enough space. When I was young—”
“Dinosaurs still roamed the land,” Haleigh quipped.
Her grandfather whacked her with the newsboy cap he’d pulled off his balding head. “I’m post-asteroid, kid.”
She snorted as he eased creakily into his seat.
Haleigh watched her family gather around her, her nerves jangling. All she needed was Stanton to get things rolling.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, her roommate strolled in. “I’m here,” he declared in his booming voice. “The party can commence.”
Haleigh grabbed his arm and yanked him down between her and Jack. “Promise me that you will behave yourself,” she whispered. If anyone was going to get too much enjoyment out of this scheme, it was Stanton.
Mischief sank into his features, and he peered around the table. “Is this an intervention? Is it finally time to talk to Joey about breaking up her pantsuits?”
Joey was deep in conversation with their mom over the menu, but Haleigh smacked Stanton’s arm all the same.
He gaped innocently at her. “You know how badly I want to get your sister on the show. She’s probably a hoot when she lets loose.”
Haleigh was pretty sure she had never seen her older sister let loose in her twenty-five years on this planet.
After everyone had a chance to peruse the menu and place their orders, she cleared her throat. Her heart drummed in her chest, and she had to sit on her hands to keep from grabbing for her key.
She wasn’t a list maker like her sister or a spreadsheet extraordinaire like Jack, but she was a planner in her own way. Mostly by inventorying in her mind every possible thing that could go wrong, so she could be prepared. There were too many variables here, though. Too many people making too many potential decisions that she couldn’t predict. With no way to have control over it all, the only thing she could do was give it up entirely.
And that was not something Haleigh thrived at.
She balanced gingerly on the edge of her seat as her family and friends flicked their gazes to her. It was one of those chairs with a back that curved so narrowly it would barely fit a straight-size person’s ass comfortably, never mind anyone else. The whole design was fatphobic. Haleigh had half a mind to research the designer and tell them so.
She cleared her throat a second time. She meant to sound confident, but it came out more as a choke, and everyone’s eyes widened in alarm. That made Haleigh actually choke, and suddenly Stanton was patting her back and her mom was out of her chair and Joey was thrusting her glass of water in Haleigh’s face.
This was off to a fantastic start.
Waving them away, she squared her shoulders and forced herself to speak. It was now or never.
“At this point, I think you’re all well aware that my dating life hasn’t exactly been stellar.” Her sister and Stanton both opened their mouths to reply, so Haleigh rushed on. “It’s taking a toll on me, and I was really considering a hiatus from it all. But with Joey’s party coming up, I thought I’d try a different approach first.” She looked around the table, making eye contact with each person so they’d know she was serious. “I’m going to let you all set me up.”
Her mother’s eyes brightened. “What do you mean?”
“Each of you can pick two people for me to go on dates with.”
“Wait. For real? ” Stanton raised his arms with a flourish, almost knocking Jack in the head. “Oh my god. Who will I pick?” He started counting on his fingers like there were too many options to keep track of.
Haleigh held up a hand. “Hold on. There are conditions. ”
Joey frowned skeptically. “Like what?”
Haleigh pulled out her phone and opened her Notes app. No way was she going to risk forgetting something. “Number one: you have to believe me if I say a date didn’t go well. No assuming I’m being too picky or self-sabotaging.” Haleigh drilled her gaze into her sister’s face.
Their grandfather shocked Haleigh by nodding. “A reasonable request.”
No one else disagreed. Not even Joey, despite her narrowed brows.
So far, so good.
“Secondly,” Haleigh continued, “whoever you set me up with needs to know it’s a setup. No surprise attacks. And I want them to fill out a questionnaire. That way I get to know a little about them before I meet them.” Pausing, she quickly emailed the list of questions she and Jack had generated to everyone at the table. “Thirdly, they need to know I’m fat.”
“Haleigh, don’t—” her mother began.
“Mom.” Haleigh and Joey spoke in unison. They might not agree on anything else, but both of them hated their mother’s reaction to the word “fat.”
“I’m not cutting myself down, Mom,” Haleigh insisted. “I have a fat body, and that’s a reality. And there are people out there who are very not okay with that. I’ve worked hard to keep myself out of those situations on my own, and I don’t want any of you to inadvertently subject me to that.” Haleigh fidgeted in her seat. Nervous energy buzzed beneath her skin. If the restaurant wasn’t so tightly packed with tables, she’d consider doing a lap. “Show them a picture of me, tell them what I look like, whatever you want to do. But I don’t want them to be surprised.”
Beside her, Jack rubbed a hand over his stubble. Even in the loud restaurant, the skritching sound shot straight through Haleigh’s knees. “Do you want to see pictures, too?” he asked.
Haleigh shrugged. “Honestly, I care more about the questionnaire.”
“Anything else?” Joey’s elbows were propped on the table, her hands cradling her chin. Her thinking face.
“If none of the dates work out, no one can nag me about being single for at least six months.”
Joey tapped two fingers together as she surveyed her sister. “I want to add a counter-condition.”
“I’m not negotiating a plea deal, Joe.”
“Promise you won’t tank the dates. If we’re going to trust you about how the dates go, then we have to believe you’re going on them in good faith.”
It was easy enough to agree to. Haleigh expected these to be the same as her all her other dates had been. Awkward, boring, or just plain ridiculous. And she’d gone into every one of those with an open mind. She could do that again, especially if it would help prove to everyone here that her perpetual singlehood was not her fault.
“Obviously,” she said. “I will take this every bit as seriously as you do.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Haleigh saw Jack grab for his phone and start typing. A tiny grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
She pulled her own phone into her lap, but nothing came through. Not even after he put his device away.
He hadn’t texted her.
Haleigh’s finger hooked around her key. He was probably talking to someone from work. Or his tenants. Or one of the guys he played kickball with on the weekends. Just because he’d smiled didn’t mean it was a woman. There were a million explanations that didn’t violate their friendship rules or turn Haleigh’s worst fear into a reality.
She shook her head, glad when her mom squeezed her arm, dragging Haleigh back to their conversation. “Of course we’ll take this seriously. I love this idea. We can help you meet people outside your own bubble.”
Joey nodded. “Exactly. There are so many people who don’t date through the apps.”
This was news to Haleigh. Every person she knew was on at least three different dating sites at a time.
A loud laugh from Stanton broke through their discussion. He pointed at his phone. “This questionnaire is incredible. You should sell this to someone.”
“Jack came up with most of it,” Haleigh said.
Jack grinned. “I know how to ask the real pressing questions.”
“Our own investigative journalist, Jackson Brooks.” Haleigh rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “So I guess we’re doing this.”
“Hell yeah, we’re doing it.” Jack thrust his hand over the table, as if he expected the rest of them to participate in one of those pregame huddles. Someone needed to remind him that no one else here watched or participated in sports.
After letting his palm hover over their drinks for a second, he grabbed the salt shaker and set it next to his empty plate.
Epic save.
Haleigh raised her glass of water. She couldn’t quite muster Jack’s level of enthusiasm—ten more (most likely bad) dates in her future was not exactly a cause for Super Bowl–level cheering in her opinion—but if that’s what it would take to stop her family’s meddling and endless advice, she was ready to do it. “No bugging me for updates. I will share them when—and if —I want.”
Shaking her head at this sad excuse for a toast, her mother clinked her glass of chardonnay with Haleigh’s water. “To love.”
“To change,” Joey added, lifting her beer to meet them.
“To finding you a husband.” Pépère took a sip of his drink instead of toasting with them.
“To hot sex,” Stanton yelled, his Thai iced tea sloshing over everyone’s hands.
“To Haleigh,” Jack piped in.
They all knocked back large gulps of their drinks. Before Haleigh joined them, she repeated her own toast in her head.
To my future dating sabbatical and no need for a plus-one .