chapter seventeen A Deluge of Awkwardness
chapter seventeen
A Deluge of Awkwardness
“Hey! Mind if we FaceTime?” I ask, answering Lex on the first ring when she calls for our scheduled Wednesday-evening chat
session three weeks later.
“I look like shit, but yes.”
I press the button, and a moment later Lex’s beautiful face lights up my screen. “Don’t come at me with ‘I look like shit’
and then proceed to look as stunning as you fucking are,” I chide. It’s been a long day, and seeing Lex is a balm to my soul,
even if it’s only on my phone screen. I haven’t seen her in person since our group date at the bowling alley, and without
our Tinder-fuelled bi-monthly curse-curing adventures I really miss her. Plus, she’s been busy with . . . someone else. So
have I, I guess.
Lex exaggerates an eye roll. She’s curled up in her bed with a baggy sweatshirt, her short hair wet and combed behind her
ears, no makeup at all, and still somehow she makes imperfect skin and slight shadows beneath her eyes look good. “How was
your lunch date?”
I grimace. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to cancel our plans, but Olsen showed up to surprise me and I felt bad sending him away.”
Lex shrugs. “It’s no biggie. Took Lynn out instead.”
I try to coax the bristling hairs on the back of my neck to flatten. “Is it weird working with someone you’re dating?”
“A little. We’re in different departments, though, so our paths don’t cross too often.”
I wonder if they sneak into empty offices to make out. Or hide away in the janitor closet to feel each other up. Are they
sending flirty texts during meetings, passing spicy notes, making one another blush?
“Besides, I’m not sure if ‘dating’ is the term I’d use. I’ve been seeing other people, too,” Lex says casually.
Part of me is relieved things between her and Lynn aren’t serious, but the other side is just as envious that other women
are taking up Lex’s time that used to be reserved for me. “Right, you’ve been putting all your new-found dating app skills
to good use.”
She smiles. “That’s right.”
“Look at you, taking the dating world by storm.”
“Well, you inspired me.”
I laugh. “You seriously need to rethink your life if I’m inspiring you.”
Lex tuts. “You’re too hard on yourself. Enough about me. How is everything going with you and Olsen? He seems happy so far.
You’ve been on what, three or four dates now? He talks about you a lot, and he smiles when he does, and I know he’s not seeing
anyone else. I think the plan is working.”
“Oh? Yeah, I think so, too.”
Lex eyes me. “There’s a but.”
I avoid her gaze, picking at a pill on my blanket. “No, everything’s fine.”
“But . . . ?” Lex knows me far too well.
“It’s just . . .” I sigh. “Olsen is handsome and smart and charming and everything I want, but I’m not feeling . . . sparks?
Butterflies? Like maybe we’re moving too slow? We haven’t even kissed yet.”
“Have the dates been awkward?”
“A little,” I concede. “At lunch the server flirted with Olsen right in front of me even though we were clearly together,
but it was definitely not the most awkward date I’ve had. It felt like we were platonic friends out having lunch rather than
two people trying to get in each other’s pants. He didn’t even make a pass at me, Lex! What if he’s not interested?”
“You’re stunningly gorgeous and smart and interesting and funny. Why wouldn’t he be interested?”
I nod along, her compliments making me feel a bit better.
Lex continues. “Judging by the way he talks about you, he wants to take things further—I mean, he literally took you to bed
an hour after meeting you the first time, right? But you asked to take things slow, so he’s being respectful. Falling in love
takes time.”
I always expected falling in love to be like a lightning bolt: a sudden flash, the ground shaking, your heart palpitating,
and the realization gripping you like the whole world has shifted and nothing would ever be the same. Then again, what would
I know about love? Maybe love like that only happens in the movies. “You’re right,” I concede.
“Besides,” Lex says, rolling onto her belly and resting her chin her hand. “You’ve never really been in a good relationship
or had one modelled for you. I think you’ve come to expect drama, and so when that’s not there you think something is wrong,
but in reality it’s actually healthy. Good relationships shouldn’t be triggering your stress response, which is what butterflies
are.”
“Really?”
She smirks. “I’m a scientist. I know shit like that.”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “I’m not sure if you have the right scientific background to be the authority on this subject,
but okay.”
“True love should make you feel safe,” she explains. “You should feel relaxed and comfortable and able to be yourself around
your person.”
Lex is making a lot of sense. And she knows from experience what it’s like to have a relationship like that, and then watch it shift
into something quite the opposite. “You’re right. Olsen is a great guy. He literally checks all my boxes. If anyone can break
the curse, it’s him. I just have to give it more time.”
“Exactly.”
We grow quiet for a moment, enjoying simply being together. “So, when’s your next date with Lynn?”
“This weekend. We’re . . . going over to her place.” Lex’s cheeks turn a shade of pink as she averts her gaze.
“Oh. Wow. Like, for sex?” I blurt.
Lex hides her face with her hand. “Maybe?”
“Already?” I clear my throat as Lex drops her hand and eyes me. “It just seems sudden, I guess.”
Lex smirks. “Sudden, really? Coming from you?”
Fair point. “It’s just the first time you’ve dated someone since you left your husband and you haven’t been seeing each other for very
long and you seem like such a cautious person and it’s a really big step and . . .” I inhale, trying to catch my breath.
“And . . .” Lex waits, but when I don’t say anything, she finishes my sentence for me. “You’re proud of me?”
“So proud of you.” I manage to nod, my cheeks flushing. And I’m not lying about it, either. At least, I don’t think I am.
“Maybe you and Olsen can get together, too,” Lex suggests. “The house will be empty.”
“Yeah, being alone with Olsen at his house worked out so well the first time,” I huff.
“Maybe some time alone together is just what you need to get those sparks flying.”
I twist my mouth to the side. “Maybe.”
“Mom! Wipe my bum!” Gabe’s voice calls from somewhere off screen.
Lex’s smile shifts into one of moderate embarrassment. “He’s seven and still gets his butt wiped,” she explains.
I shrug. “Better than cleaning his underwear all the time.”
“Right? Anyway. Got to go. I’ll call you next week.”
“Good luck on your—” But she’s already ended the call. “Date,” I finish, staring at my disappointed face in the black reflection
of my screen.
My phone sits on my table, open to a text I don’t want to return. I pinch my bottom lip between my fingers as I debate what
to reply to Olsen’s invitation to a romantic dinner.
The obvious answer is yes. Of course. But my mind can’t stop whirring with all the possibilities of things that could go wrong.
What if he makes shrimp and I’ve suddenly developed an allergy despite having eaten shrimp my whole life? What if I choke
on my food and he has to give me an abdominal thrust and I accidentally shit myself? What if he tries to put the moves on
me and I mangle his penis again, this time permanently?
Before I can spiral any further into cursed possibilities, my phone rings, Olsen’s contact info popping up. I consider, for
a moment, letting it go to voicemail. I could cozy up on the couch with a movie I’ve seen a hundred times, order some takeout,
scroll Instagram, and . . . wonder the whole time what Lex and Lynn are doing.
“Hey,” I say, forcing a smile so I sound cheerful.
“Hi, beautiful. Have plans tonight?” Olsen asks.
“Nope, not really. Do you have something in mind?”
“I do. You up for a night downtown?”
“Oof, like, Vancouver downtown?” I mull it over, considering the alternative once more. “Sure. Why not.”
He chuckles. “Don’t get too excited or anything. I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
“Done.”
I hang up the phone and spend the first five minutes of my getting-ready time searching for an excuse to cancel. I’m sure
most women would jump at the chance for a surprise date in the city where they don’t have to worry about anything other than
dressing up and having a good time.
There must be something wrong with me. I mean, aside from the curse.
Summoning my energy, I message Pat to make sure she’s okay to look after Winston overnight before getting all dolled up and
pulling on a tight black dress I save for fancy occasions. An hour later, right on the dot, Olsen texts that he’s here. I
take a steadying breath before heading out to greet him.
Olsen stands outside his car, leaning against it, with one hand tucked into his suit jacket like a movie star.
Damn, he looks fucking good. And he’s going out with me!
Of all people. My mind races with all the ways this can go wrong, all the things that could happen to ruin it . . . But what if everything goes right?
I stride toward Olsen and he gives me an appreciative whistle.
He holds his arms out for a hug and I nestle against him, admiring his height and his smell and his warmth.
He pulls back slowly, tilting his mouth toward mine.
My heart stutters in my chest and my belly tightens in anticipation, panic setting in.
I withdraw at the last second, taking his hand and twirling like a planned dance routine.
Olsen’s mild confusion at avoiding his kiss, like I’ve managed to do at all our other dates, shifts to amusement. Bullet dodged.
I may have taken Lex’s advice to “take it slow” a bit too far, but crossing that boundary now feels like leaping over a huge
chasm. The moment Olsen and I go from friendly outings to serious dates the curse is going to kick in, and I don’t know if
he’s ready for it—or if I am.
The drive downtown is just as it always is with Olsen and me: polite, yet safe conversation, no controversial subjects broached,