Chapter 9 DANGEROUS
Chapter nine
DANGEROUS
“Do me a favor, Drew, and close your eyes.”
I turn away from watching a family run from one side of the busy crosswalk to another to shoot Monika a death glare, but it only manages to make her smile even wider. “Just do it. This will only take a second.”
I sigh. We have been sitting in the parking lot at LAX outside of my terminal for the last thirty minutes.
At least she had the foresight to park in the temporary lot instead of at the curb, since she has tried every trick possible to get me to exit her car with no success. When my eyes are closed, she continues.
“I want you to imagine all the bad things that might happen on this trip. Say them out loud as they cross your mind.”
I whip my eyes back open. “Are you crazy? This sounds like a great way to make sure I never get on that plane.”
“Hear me out,” she says. “Cursed Drew would ruminate on all the bad things that could happen, but Epic Drew would name all of her fears and declare that they are no match for her.”
I roll my eyes at the alter ego that she, Scott, and Gabe chose for me to go by for this trip.
They spent the entire week coming up with it, and while I am not a fan, it was the best one out of the others they came up with, so I have reluctantly accepted it.
Not without bringing them into the mix by referring to them as silly, made-up alter-egos every chance I get, in return, though.
“Well, hopefully you’ve been visualizing Bodybuilder Monika,” I say, “because if I start naming everything that can go wrong, you are going to have to physically remove me from this car and drag me inside.”
“Just do it!” she says, with another glance at the clock display on her dashboard.
“Fine,” I say, and slump down farther into the seat.
When I agreed to go on this trip last week, I secretly hoped that something bad would happen to prove my point that the plan was too dangerous, but when the week went by without a single incident, it just bolstered Monika’s claim that my curse could be broken, or never even existed to begin with.
With Scott and Gabe on board, there was no going back. They even insisted on coming out to drive me to the airport themselves, but I refused to let them miss even more work on account of me, or risk being in California when their child’s birth mother went into labor back in New York.
She is already a few days past her due date, which I’ve learned is normal for a woman’s first pregnancy, and just makes the timing of all this even more perfect in their eyes.
If I can prove to myself this weekend that I am safe enough to be around the baby, then I can come up to meet him right after the retreat, and I will already be close because North Carolina is just a few states under New York.
I consider telling Monika that I would rather go inside than do this stupid exercise, but I humor her so she can’t argue that I didn’t play by the rules if I come out the other side of the weekend feeling the same as I have for the past year.
“Okay,” I say, and start with the most obvious one.
“Either you, Scott, or Gabe gets mortally injured while I am on the plane, and you call me for help, but I don’t answer for whatever reason.
By the time I land and realize what happened, it’s too late, and you’re already gone before I get to say goodbye. ”
When I am met with silence, I crack open one eye and see that she is still as a statue. “You asked!”
“Planes have Wi-Fi so we can text you the entire time,” she says, visibly shaken. Before asking me what the next bad scenario I was imagining was, she adds, “And from what I have seen of your bad luck it doesn’t repeat. The likelihood of that same thing happening again is slim to none.”
She’s got me there. My bad luck isn’t cyclical. Instead, it likes to come up with new and novel things to darken my day. I don’t want to rehash what happened eight years ago any more than she does, so I move on to the next scenario.
“During truth or dare, someone is dared to run around the pool naked and slips, cracking their head on the side of the hot tub.”
“Truth or dare wasn’t on the itinerary, so I don’t think you need to worry about that,” she laughs. “Adults don’t play truth or dare, anyway. Do they?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I say, because Monika is the only friend I’ve had for most of my adult life. “With my luck, they might.”
“Well, if they do play, which I doubt they will, and if a guest does slip, which would be unfortunate, that would be her fault, or the person who dared them’s fault. Not yours.”
“But that’s the point. Me being there is what would—”
“Why would you being there cause them to play truth or dare? Are you planning on starting a game yourself?”
“Absolutely not!”
“Then why would it be your fault? If you don’t go, they might play truth or dare on their own accord, and the person will smack their head in your absence.
If you go, then you can tell them how dangerous it can be and stop them from playing altogether.
See? It might actually be good luck for you to go. ”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“Maybe not for Cursed Drew. But for Epic Drew—”
“How about this one?” I say, interrupting her musing. “While we sit around the table and talk about the book, someone accidentally sets theirs on top of a candle, and it catches on fire.”
“Again, this is a retreat for adults. I am sure everyone there knows basic candle safety. And I think putting a book on a candle would extinguish it, anyway, because it would take away the fire’s oxygen supply.”
I open my mouth to propose my next scenario, but Monika is done with the game. “Enough worst case. Now I want you to envision the best thing that could happen to Epic Drew this weekend.”
It takes some effort to push aside the next three worst-case scenarios I had queued up, but Epic Drew, true to her name, steps forward in my mind’s eye when summoned.
Vague images of her drinking wine, relaxing in the hot tub, and not setting the place on fire flash by in a blur, followed by the grand finale that I have been clinging to: getting a call that Scott and Gabe’s baby boy was born, and is healthy and beautiful, and since I will be in Charlotte instead of home in L.A.
, I hop on the quick two-hour flight to LaGuardia, and get to be one of the first people to hold my perfect nephew.
My breath catches in my throat at the vision of it.
“Drew, you were supposed to be thinking of the best-case scenario,” Monika chides, misreading my reaction.
I open my eyes, gather my things, and push open the car door. “I was. Now come give me a hug before I change my mind.”