18. Chapter 18
Chapter 18
“ W ho was that guy you were getting cozy with at the party?”
I inwardly groan. I’d made it through the entire Drives for Dreams meeting without one word from Chelsea. She even made it to the doorway of my office before turning around to interrogate me.
I’d hoped maybe she didn’t notice, maybe for once in my life she didn’t pay attention. No such luck.
And now she has her judging face on.
“What?” I scrunch my face at her, like I have no idea what she’s asking. Even though I know exactly what she’s asking.
After Hannah grilled Chase, we went back to the party. We danced, drank, ate, and had fun. Real fun. More fun than I can remember having in a long time. I smiled and laughed so much, my cheeks hurt.
“The guy … the one in the black suit. You were dancing with him. I saw him holding your hand.” Her lip curls up.
“Oh, that guy,” I say, reaching up and tugging on my k pendant.
I didn’t think she’d caught the hand-holding. Especially since it was at an emotional part of the evening when my dad got on the microphone and gave a little speech, thanking everyone for a great twenty-five years. Then he choked up as he said he wished the person who’d had his back and been right by his side during nearly all of those twenty-five years could be there.
Chase had grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers during that part. Tears were escaping my eyes, and I latched on to the comfort. It didn’t even feel foreign for him to do it. I’d say that our texting thing has turned into a real, bona fide friendship. Or, at least, the beginning of one.
Chelsea stands in the doorway staring at me, awaiting an answer.
“Don’t you have Drives for Dreams to work on?”
“I do, but I have a minute and this is what I’m choosing to do with my minute.”
Of course. Fortunately, I have a story all made up in my head for this exact conversation that I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid. I got a lot of questioning stares from Chelsea that night at the party. I knew I’d get grilled later. Not for the hand-holding part, though. I should have known better.
“He’s a potential client,” I say. “Nice guy. We got to chatting after I gave him info about a wrap for his new car.”
I pray that didn’t sound as rehearsed to Chelsea as it did to me. I thought it was a great story and would also lead into everyone understanding why Chase and I would hang out in the future. For everyone but Hannah, it will look like we hit it off at the party and a friendship blossomed. That’s sort of what happened. He did get invited to the party, and a friendship did blossom. I’ll just be taking all the other stuff that led up to it to my grave. Especially where Chelsea is concerned.
She puts a hand on her hip. “Who invited him?”
“No idea,” I say with a shrug.
This was also part of my story. I could have blamed Devon for inviting Chase, but she could easily ask him. I thought about blaming Chad but then didn’t want Chase associated with him. So I went with having no idea. I texted all of this to Chase yesterday so he was on board. Not that I plan on parading him around my family anytime soon.
“Interesting,” Chelsea says, and I look up to see her giving me her squinty eyes.
“Indeed.” I nod my head. I will not give in. Chelsea will never know how Chase really ended up coming to the party.
Chelsea twists her lips to the side, thinking. “You don’t think he was one of those creepy party crashers, do you?”
“No,” I say, sounding offended. I feel like I need to defend Chase, which is silly. “He’s genuinely interested in getting his car wrapped.”
“Who wants his car wrapped?” Devon says, moving into my office doorway, next to Chelsea.
“Chase,” I say.
“Oh, yeah. That guy,” Devon says.
Thank goodness Devon showed up. He can vouch for Chase and then Chelsea can get off my back.
“You met him?” she asks.
“Yeah,” he says. “Nice guy … buying a Lexus.”
“LC five hundred,” I add.
“Right,” he says, pointing at me. “Why are you asking?” He turns to Chelsea.
“I saw him holding Maggie’s hand,” Chelsea says, a very tattletale tone to her voice.
Devon pulls his chin inward and squints his eyes at me. “He held your hand?”
“He was just comforting me during Dad’s speech.”
“Oh.” Devon nods, totally accepting this answer. Of course he would; he’s a guy. Men know that holding hands is not as big of a deal to them as it is to women. Not that I read anything into Chase holding my hand the way he did. It was comfort. A gesture of understanding.
“Also, his mom passed away not that long ago. So … he gets it.”
“Oh,” Chelsea says, her facial expression changing to a more sympathetic one. Maybe I should have led with this.
“That sucks,” says Devon.
“Yeah,” I agree.
Silence lands on the room. I recognize the empathetic look on Devon’s and Chelsea’s faces.
“How are we all feeling about June?” I finally say, hoping to change the subject, but also wanting to know. My dad hasn’t come in yet today, so I feel comfortable speaking freely.
Devon shrugs. “It’s … whatever.”
“I don’t love it,” Chelsea says.
“Me neither.”
There’s a knock on the wall behind Chelsea’s head. Devon turns. “Dawson,” he says with that bro voice of his.
“Just came to talk to Maggie,” Dawson says. I can barely see his face over the top of Chelsea’s shoulder.
Devon and Chelsea excuse themselves, and Chelsea gives me a look that says, We aren’t done talking about this before leaving.
“Hey,” I say as Dawson walks into my office. He’s back in his coveralls. I miss that charcoal-gray suit he wore to the party. It was a sight to behold. He looks good in his work attire too. It just leaves a lot more to the imagination than that suit did.
The image of Natasha’s arms wrapped around him pops up in my head. They left together at the end of the party. I guess they must be back together. Surprisingly, I didn’t get that sinking feeling in my gut when I saw them walking hand in hand toward the parking lot.
That’s not true. My stomach did a full plummet. But then Chase made a joke about Fluffy Barbie and I got over it.
Today, I feel almost a sense of relief as he walks into my office. I’m relieved because first, he saved me from more grilling by Chelsea, and second, I no longer have to waste my time and energy on making my feelings known to him. I’ll just get over them and let those butterflies I get in my stomach whenever he’s around fly away into the sky.
That may take some time. Right now the butterflies are fighting for space. I take a breath.
“What can I do for you?” I ask.
“Got a question for you.” He takes a seat in one of the guest chairs in front of my desk.
“Is it about Chad?”
“It … is,” he says, with a thin smile. “It’s an HR question, actually.”
“Oh, great. What’s our dear friend Chad done now?”
“Well, he thought it would be funny to wrap all my tools in vinyl.”
I nod my head. I mean … that is kind of funny.
“Right,” I say, mirroring his unamused grimace, holding in my smile. “Well, didn’t we decide it was time to let him go?”
“I asked Devon,” he says.
“What did he say?”
“He asked me to keep him around a little longer.”
“I mean, it’s technically your call, not Devon’s.”
He gives me a nod. “Okay, that’s what I thought. I just wanted to make sure with you before I do anything.”
I furrow my brow, looking down at my desk. Is it just me, or does this conversation feel … contrived? There was no real reason for us to have this talk since we already sort of did, the night before the party. And it’s about Chad. Of course.
“It was fun …”
I look up at him. “Fun?”
He smiles, apologetically. Like he didn’t mean for the words to escape his mouth. “Yeah … the party. It was fun.”
“It was,” I say. I want to add no thanks to you but decide that’s probably not my best move. Chase was the real reason I had fun at the party.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to dance more.”
Oh . That’s not what I thought he was going to say. I didn’t really have a notion of what he was going to say, but it definitely wasn’t that .
“Me too,” I say. “But, you had Natasha.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I didn’t …” He stops himself again, holding out his hand, palm up. “I didn’t invite her, just so you know.”
I shake my head. “We said you could bring a guest.”
“Well, I hadn’t planned on it. She’d called me that day and I told her about the party … and she just showed up.”
And then you walked off hand in hand as you left.
“Well,” I say. “It was … fine for her to be there. Glad you had fun.”
“I did. You?”
“I … did too,” I say. I want to throw out and so did Chad because it feels so natural to bring him back into a conversation with Dawson. But Chad had to be sent home in a taxi—he got so drunk he could barely walk. I mean, maybe that’s fun for Chad. I prefer to remember my parties .
“You seemed to spend a lot of time with that guy, Chase,” he says.
So he noticed that. I thought I’d caught him glancing my way a couple of times.
“Yeah,” I say. “We have a lot in common, it turns out.”
“Oh?”
“Uh … his mom also died recently.”
“Oh,” Dawson says, giving me a sad smile.
“So we had a lot to talk about.”
“Right,” he says.
“Well, I guess you and Natasha are …” I let that sentence trail off because why would I even say that? And because I don’t think I want to know the answer. Apparently, my subconscious did.
Dawson doesn’t seem that taken aback by it. “It’s complicated.”
Ah, yes. The old “it’s complicated” line.
“I hope it gets … un … complicated.” Oh, wow. I should just bring the conversation back to Chad. Right now.
He places his hands on the tops of his thighs and stands up from the chair. “See you later, Maggie,” he says.
M y phone beeps as I lie in my bed later that night, staring at the heart shape on the ceiling, thinking about so many things. The party, the conversation with Dawson … Chase.
I pat around the side of the bed where I’m pretty sure I set my phone and pull it up to my face once I find it. I see Chase’s name and I smile.
Chase: I have an ide a
Maggie: Should I be scared?
Chase: Maybe
Maggie: Let’s hear it
Chase: Well, I’m texting you right now, so you’ll have to read it.
Maggie: You’re an idiot
Chase: Okay, so … you need to jump out of a plane in May, yes?
Maggie: Correct. The 15th.
Chase: And I’m leaving for London on the 14th.
I send him a sad face.
Chase: Yeah. I’ve already pushed off the date. They wanted me to go last month but postponed so I could have more time with my family after my mom …
It occurs to me that I would have never met Chase if my mom hadn’t died. And we wouldn’t have gotten to know each other if his mom hadn’t. In fact, he would be in London right now, training. And I’d just be living my life here in Scottsdale. Never to even know who he was. Life is strange.
Chase: So … I want to jump out of a plane.
Maggie: ??
Chase: I want to do something daring.
Maggie: ??
Chase: I’ve never done anything adventurous. And I just feel like … I should.
Maggie: Okay …
Chase’s number pops up on my screen and suddenly my phone is vibrating in my hand.
“Hello?” I say.
“Hi,” he says.
“No one talks on the phone anymore.”
“It was too long to text. I figured since we met in person already, it wouldn’t be that weird to talk on the phone.”
“You couldn’t Marco Polo me like everyone else?”
“Do you hate the phone that much? Fine,” he says. “I’ll send you a Polo.”
“I’m kidding. But really, only old people talk on the phone.”
“I’m an old soul.”
“So … you want to jump out of a plane?”
“Yes,” he says. “I’ve been thinking since I saw those pictures on your office wall. I haven’t done anything all that adventurous in my life.”
“Well, then jump out of a plane.”
“Yes, but my plan helps us both.”
“How’s that?”
“I don’t want to just jump out of a plane. I want to try other things too. Maybe start small and lead up to that.”
“Okay,” I say, dragging out the word.
“And you need to jump out of a plane in May.”
I take a breath. I’m resigned to do it. It has to happen or Chelsea will probably wring my neck. Not probably—definitely.
“I’m not following what this has to do with me.”
“I want to do some other stuff before I take a big jump like that. And I think we should do it together. It might help you get your mojo back. Maybe you’ll remember your zest for it all. And then it might be easier to do the jump with your family. ”
“What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know … I thought you might have some ideas,” Chase says. “Aren’t you the adventure expert?”
“I mean … I did hike Machu Picchu.”
“You’re so cool.”
“I am,” I say. “Actually, it was the shortened version of the hike. But still.”
“Aw, why did you have to tell me that? You just lost some cool points.”
I laugh. I picture Chase talking to me while sitting on a couch in his place, his dog Oscar lying in his lap. I wonder what kind of home he has. Is it like a bachelor pad with sparse décor? No edible food in the refrigerator?
“I don’t have time to hike Machu Picchu. Anything we can do locally?” he asks.
“I mean, there’s plenty to do around here. I’m just not sure how this benefits us both.”
“I told you: you need a reminder of all the fun you used to have. And you get to help me have some fun in the process.”
Fun. That’s a novel idea.
“You still there?” Chase asks.
“I’m here. I’m just thinking.”
“Well, how about this: at the very least, you could come with me. It’ll give you something else to do besides work and … whatever else you do.”
“I work and I text you. That’s pretty much it.”
He chuckles. “That’s sad. I’ve only been talking to you for a couple of weeks. What did you do before that?”
“Work, I guess.”
“Thank goodness I came along.”
“It’s true. ”
“So what do you say?”
“I don’t know.”
“How about you just do it for me?”
I take a breath. “Okay, fine. I’m in.”
Chase whoops on the other end and I have to hold my phone back so it doesn’t blast my ear out.
“This will be good,” he says.
“Maybe,” I say. “What should we do first?”
“I don’t know?”
“Well, how about you figure that out and let me know.”
“Okay, I can do that. Just be prepared to do something adventurous on Saturday. With me.”
Chase asks about work, and I tell him about Chelsea grilling me about him, and then what Dawson said about Natasha.
“Does he usually talk to you about Natasha?” he asks after I finish telling him what happened.
“Never.”
“Yeah, that’s … interesting. Are they together?”
“He said, and I quote, ‘It’s complicated.’”
“Yikes,” Chase says. “I hate that status.”
“Me too.” I yawn into the phone.
“Well, I’ll let you go to bed. I’m going to watch a movie.”
“When do you work?” I ask him, wondering how we’ve gotten this far into our friendship and I have yet to hear about him going to work. Does he work from home? So many things I still don’t know about Chase.
“I … haven’t been. I go back next Monday,” he says. “They gave me an extended bereavement period because I was supposed to be in London and they don’t have all that much for me to do here until I’ve been trained,” he says.
“Oh, right. ”
“But I’m doing some virtual training on Monday. It’ll be good to get back to it. Something to keep my mind on … other than …”
He doesn’t need to finish that sentence. It sounds nice on paper that the company he works for gave him so much time, but that much time without the normal daily grind might have made that first part even harder for me. We were all back at work a week after my mom passed. None of us wanted to sit home with our thoughts. It occurs to me that maybe this whole adventure thing might be Chase’s way of coping with that. It makes me want to do it even more. For him.
I yawn again and Chase tells me to get some sleep. We hang up and I turn over on my side, now staring at the white wall in front of me.
“Miss you, Mom,” I say. I wonder if she can hear me. I hope she can.