14. Chapter 14
Chapter 14
T o keep up with my chicken theme, I’ve also put all my eggs in one basket.
“I’m so sorry, babe,” Hannah says.
We’re on the phone, Hannah is at work, and I’m in the apartment with curls pinned up on my head, my makeup half-done.
“But … Dawson is single. I need you,” I whine. “How can you ditch me at a time like this?”
I wasn’t going to tell her; I was just going to let her find out at the party so I didn’t have to listen to her go on and on about how right she was and how wrong I was. But she didn’t even get a chance to gloat. She’s been so busy at work.
“I’m not ditching you—I just don’t know when I can get there. This case is taking all my time, and my boss is a real witch.”
“She’s your mom.”
“Exactly,” she says.
I breathe out my nose. “Fine. I’ll try and not make a fool of myself.”
I can try all I want, but a fool I will be. Look at my track record.
I don’t know why I want Hannah there so badly—it’s not like she’s going to give me some superpower and I’ll be magically less of a coward. But I just want her there. By my side. Making me laugh and telling me to get over myself.
I feel like a moron, going by myself now. I guess I’ll have to hang out with Devon and try to keep his paws off all the single ladies. Or I could hang out with my dad and June. I do a very hard swallow at that thought.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll hurry, I promise,” she says. It sounds as if she’s walking quickly somewhere. “I have to go—the boss just caught me on the phone.”
“She’s your mom ,” I say again.
“Exactly,” she says again and hangs up.
I go back to the bathroom to finish my makeup. I chose to go only a little extra with my look, but not too extra.
While pulling the pins out of my hair my phone beeps, and I look down to where it’s sitting on the laminate counter of my bathroom and see I have a text from Chase.
Chase: You ready to party?
Maggie: Not really
Chase: Why?
Maggie: I have no wingwoman.
Chase: Wingwoman?
Maggie: Hannah
Chase: What do you need a wingwoman for? Isn’t this a work party?
Maggie: Yes. But as it turns out, Dawson is single. Got the story wrong. And now my wingwoman has ditched me.
Chase: Ah … the plot thickens.
Maggie: Yes
I send him a crying emoji .
Chase: You know what? You don’t need a wingman. You’ve got this.
Maggie: I feel like I need a wingman.
Chase: What about Devon?
I send him a laughing emoji. The one with the tears coming out of its eyes. I’m not really laughing, but that comment was ridiculous.
Maggie: Devon would be the worst wingman ever.
Chase: I’m assuming Chelsea is out too.
Maggie: Yep. No help at all.
There’s also the issue that I’ve never said anything to them about it.
I take a breath and look in the mirror. I need to give myself a pep talk. I can be my own wingman. I will just walk myself over to Dawson, look him in the eye, and … what? What will I do? I’ll probably choke, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll walk up to him, look him in the eye, and say something about Chad. Because that’s what we do.
Chase: Your dad?
Maggie: And June?
Chase: Who’s June?
I send him off a text about June and how we think that there’s something going on between them and that she’s coming to the party.
Chase: That’s … wow.
Maggie: Ye p
Chase: I don’t think my dad will ever date anyone.
Maggie: That’s what mine said.
Chase: My dad was pretty serious about it.
Maggie: So was mine
Chase: I don’t like this conversation.
Maggie: I don’t like it either.
Chase: Back to the party. I’ve got nothing going on tonight. I’ll be your wingman.
I look down at my phone. Chase … my wingman? Is he saying he’d come to the party with me? I’d meet Chase … in person?
I have no idea how I feel about this. So many thoughts going through my head at once. I’m not so sure I want to meet him in person. I’ve never thought of this going beyond what it already is. I’ve never once pictured in my mind seeing Chase in real life. It was never on my radar.
I look around my bathroom, all the thoughts coming at me in rapid succession. Me … and Chase … meeting. Would that be a bad thing?
My phone beeps, and I look down at it.
Chase: I mean on the phone. I’m not inviting myself to your work party. I just meant I’ll be on hand to help.
My heart slows down when I see this. I hadn’t even realized it had picked up. I also feel a range of emotions. From relief to … something like disappointment, maybe? Like for a few seconds, I’d started to entertain the thought of having Chase at the party, meeting him in person. Seeing that smile of his in real life.
My phone beeps again .
Chase: Did I scare you off?
I stare at my phone, chewing on my bottom lip. I’m not scared … just contemplative. Okay, I was initially a little freaked out, I’ll admit. But now the thought has entered my head and feels like it’s on replay. Like a skipping record. Meeting Chase. Meeting Chase. Meeting Chase.
Do I want to see Chase for real? We haven’t even talked on the phone. I don’t even know what his voice sounds like. It seems like there are a lot of steps to take before meeting in person. But nowadays people meet online all the time. On some sites you meet someone in the morning and are hooking up by the evening. I’ve never been interested in anything like that. That’s also not what Chase and I have. We have more than that. A shared bond.
I look at myself in the mirror. Taking in my green eyes and my brown hair in big wavy curls over my shoulders. I can see my chest rising and falling in my reflection.
I nod at myself in the mirror. And then pick up my phone.
Maggie: Do you have a suit?
Chase: ??
Maggie: You know, a suit. Like one you’d wear to church.
Chase: I know what a suit is. Yes, I have a few of those.
Maggie: Want to put one on and meet me at a party?
I watch as the three dots appear and then disappear and then appear again. Was this a dumb idea? I feel like I may have acted on an impulse and now I’m second-guessing myself. I threw it out there without thinking that Chase might have the same thoughts I was having. Maybe he never wanted to meet me in person .
After a few eternal seconds and the persistent thought that I should figure out a way to take it back, to rewind my words, my phone beeps.
Chase: Do I get to sit in the Lambo?
I laugh. One of those nervous ones. Breathy and not all that joyful sounding. I text back.
Maggie: Of course
I watch as the three dots do their thing again. On and off. On and off.
Chase: I’m in. Send me the address.
Before I can take it back, before my mind convinces me I should do otherwise, I send him a text with the address to the shop and then I let out a squeal. It’s a nervous one, and I feel almost like I’ve dived out of a plane as I realize what I’ve just done.
My phone beeps and I look down at it.
Chase: Does this seem as weird to you as it does to me?
Maggie: Super weird.
Chase: Glad we’re on the same page.
Maggie: I mean, don’t come unless you want to.
I throw that out there for him—a lifeline. It gives him an excuse. He’s got a good one. He’s still in the heaviest part of the grieving process. He could easily say that, on second thought, he’s not sure he’s up for it, and I would fully understand. It’s a good excuse .
Chase: Are you trying to uninvite me?
Maggie: No! I just don’t want you to feel obligated or something.
Chase: I’m up for it. I’m an excellent wingman, by the way.
I expel a big breath, slowly, through my lips.
Maggie: See you at 7.
I look in the mirror again, my eyes wide this time. I then set down my phone, pick up my blow dryer, put the setting on cool, and use it to dry my armpits.