CHAPTER 17
“Night before the election. Want us to come over and hang out?” Lainey asked as she shelved a book.
“No, I’ll be okay. The commercial is running three times: twice tonight and once tomorrow. Was that smart? With that donation I got, I was able to put all the money toward that, and I chose twice today, but maybe I should’ve run it three times tomorrow.”
“I think it’s good. Twice today means you’ll get to the people who vote early tomorrow morning, and once more tomorrow means you could reach the ones who haven’t yet.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. But I’m second-guessing everything today, including this shirt. Is this shirt okay?”
Maisie was behind the counter, so Lainey turned to her, looked at her shirt, and gave her a quizzical expression.
“It’s just a white shirt, Maise.”
“I know. But is it okay?”
“For what? You’re working in a bookstore. I think it’s fine,” Lainey told her. “Hey, where did that donation come from, again?” she asked before she returned her attention to the bookshelf.
“It was anonymous, but I can make a guess.”
“Yeah, me too,” Lainey replied.
“Mr. Barnard,” Maisie said.
“India,” Lainey said at the same time and turned around to look at Maisie in surprise. “What? Mr. Barnard? That’s your guess?”
“He’s been in a lot more than usual recently and actually asked me about the campaign right before the donation came in. He’s an old guy with some money, and he had a big crush on Grams. I thought… You think it was India?”
“Uh… Yes. It was obviously India. Mr. Barnard? Come on.”
“She wouldn’t have just donated to my campaign. She’s been helping, but she wouldn’t just drop that kind of money on someone she hardly knows.”
“Someone she’s dating,” Lainey said, stopping with the shelving and walking over to the counter. “And it’s not that kind of money to her. She’s rich. That might have been pennies to her.”
“She didn’t say anything,” Maisie replied.
“She might have thought you wouldn’t take it coming from her. You are still dating, right?”
“I think so. We have a date planned for after the election, but I’ve been so focused on that recently that she and I haven’t really talked. We’ve texted a few times, but I haven’t seen her since the night of the soccer game.”
“When she wore the heels?” Lainey laughed. “It was nice of her to come, though. Hey, do you think she can come to the next one, too? She might be good luck.”
“I don’t know. I can ask.”
“Make sure you tell her to wear jeans and a sweater or something. Oh, and tennis shoes. I bet she had to throw out those expensive shoes.”
“It was fun, though, right? At the restaurant after.”
“Yeah, I had fun. Paige likes her, too.”
“Can you see us…” Maisie started and sighed. “I don’t know; together? Are we too different?”
“Hey, I think I stressed you out before when I shouldn’t have,” Lainey said.
“India’s great. Yes, she’s rich and dresses like it, but she’s not as pretentious as I thought she’d be, and I don’t think she’s anything like that other rich person you’ve been dealing with recently.
If you like her, just go for it. Don’t let that stupid shit get in your way. ”
“She gets these looks on her face whenever she doesn’t really want to do something, and I can see it every time. Like, when I invited her to the game, her face showed me just how much she did not want to watch high school soccer.”
“Not many people actually want to watch high school soccer. I have to because it’s my job, and the parents go because their kids play.
We’re lucky my team is good, and it’s better than some other teams that just kick the ball around, but I can’t blame her for not wanting to go on a date in the bleachers. ”
“It wasn’t meant to be a date. It was just a chance for us to have some time together. I wanted to see her again, and I had plans already.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“No, because I saw her face, Lainey. It was like she was doing mental math or something.”
“Mental math?”
“Yes, like weighing all her options, thinking about those bleachers, what she would wear, how uncomfortable she’d be, and deciding that she didn’t want to do it. God, I wonder if that was what Finley saw all the time.”
“You know who you could ask about that?”
“Who?”
“Finley,” Lainey suggested with a laugh. “She works next door.”
“I can’t just ask her that.”
“Yes, you can. If you feel like you need to know, ask. But I’d also suggest telling India how it felt and that you wanted to spend time with her.”
“She knows that. We’re dating.”
“You’re infuriating,” Lainey said, laughing. “I’m going back to work.”
“You and Paige just do that, huh?”
“Do what?”
“Work. You just work.”
Lainey shrugged a shoulder and said, “Yeah, we do.”
“I don’t know that India and I do,” Maisie shared.
“And I don’t know that you’ve really given it much of a chance yet,” Lainey replied and walked back over to the shelf.
◆◆◆
“Hi,” India said with a smile.
“Hey,” she replied. “Come on in.”
They hadn’t planned on seeing each other tonight.
India was going to be working late, and Maisie was too nervous to spend time with anyone, given the looming election.
After talking to Lainey earlier that day, though, Maisie had texted India and asked if she could come over to hang out.
India had replied right away, and now she was standing in her doorway, holding a bottle of wine in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.
“Are those for me?” Maisie asked.
“They are, yes,” India said. “We’re pre-celebrating tonight. I also ordered us some food. It should be here in about ten minutes.” She held out the flowers for Maisie and walked into the apartment. “I got two options.”
“Options?” she asked, breathing in the red, white, and yellow roses.
“For food,” India replied and closed the door behind her. “Where should I hang my coat? It’s raining out there.”
“Oh,” Maisie said, just noticing that India was wearing a black knee-length coat that had raindrops all over it and that, on the arm holding the wine, an umbrella was hooked over it. “I don’t have a coat thing. Maybe just the chair?”
“Sure,” India said.
Maisie walked over to the kitchen and set the flowers down on the counter while she found something to put them in. India removed her coat, hung it over the back of the chair at Maisie’s kitchen table, and then brought the wine bottle over to where Maisie was standing.
“Corkscrew?”
“Sorry?”
“Maise, corkscrew for the wine. It should breathe.”
“Oh. Drawer,” she said, pointing to the drawer nearby. “And what did you mean, we’re pre-celebrating?”
“Your victory.”
“We can’t celebrate. I haven’t won anything.”
India grabbed the corkscrew and replied, “Regardless of whether or not you win the election tomorrow, you’ve already won something, Maise.
You have fought for something you believe in, and I think that’s a victory.
Most people, myself included, just sit back and let people like Colter Stone win. You didn’t.”
“But he’s still going to win.”
Maisie watched India open that bottle of wine like she’d done it a million times before, and damn it, if that didn’t turn her on.
“You should trim the stems,” India said.
“Huh?” Maisie cleared her throat.
“On the roses.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.”
India smiled at her, and that smile told Maisie that India knew where her mind had gone.
“Wineglasses?”
“Um… I have some.”
“And where might I find them?”
“Oh, cabinet behind you. They’re the kind without the stems.”
“The roses?”
“No, the wineglasses,” Maisie said, laughing.
“I know, Maisie. I was teasing.”
India smiled at her before she turned and reached for two glasses in the cabinet by the refrigerator. She didn’t pour them wine, though. She placed the glasses next to the bottle and looked over at Maisie, who still hadn’t moved.
“Scissors?”
“Oh.”
Maisie pulled her old scissors out of a drawer that she’d had for over a decade and wondered if they even worked still.
Then, she watched as India pulled out the dozen roses individually and neatly trimmed the stems while Maisie filled a vase with water.
It was the only vase she had in the place, and she had no idea where she had gotten it.
India arranged the flowers for her and stood back, checking out her handiwork.
“Okay. Well, the wine should breathe longer, but you don’t have a decanter, I’m guessing.”
Maisie shook her head.
“Then, we’ll just drink it when the food gets here and hope for the best.”
“I won’t know the difference, anyway,” Maisie pointed out.
“Do you want me to teach you some stuff?” India offered. “I love a good wine.”
“How good is this wine?” Maisie asked, peering down at the label.
“Are you asking me how good it tastes or how expensive it is, Maisie?”
“I just don’t want you to waste the good stuff on me.”
“Impossible,” India said. “And it’s a good wine. I took it from my own wine rack.”
“You have a wine rack?”
“I do. It’s in the hall closet. Well, it was a hall closet. I converted it to a wine room and moved the hall closet when I bought the place. It’s temperature-controlled, and I’m a big fan of red, but I have some good whites in there, too. They’re chilling in the refrigerated compartment.”
“I think I’ve maybe bought one bottle of wine ever in my life, and it was from the grocery store,” Maisie shared.
“What kind was it?”
“No idea. I just grabbed it because the label looked cool. It had a duck on it.”
“They put a duck on a wine label?” India asked, looking offended.
“Yeah,” she said, laughing a little.
“Wine should not have a duck on the label.”
“So, I shouldn’t pick up a bottle for our next date?”
“You can. You’ll just be drinking it alone,” India said, and her face didn’t do the mental math this time.
“And if I wanted you to try it, would you?”
“In this scenario, am I already drunk?”
Maisie laughed and asked, “What food did you order?”
“I got pizza since I knew what you liked, but I added a pasta just in case you weren’t in the mood for pizza again. Is that okay?”
“Pizza with this good wine?”
“I know… I’m breaking all my rules for you, Maisie Lincoln.”
Maisie knew it was a joke, but there was something inside her that squeezed a little bit when she heard those words coming out of India’s mouth.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” India said.
“Were you my anonymous campaign donor?”
India looked down at the wineglasses and said, “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d take the money if I did,” India replied, looking up at her. “And I wanted to help close the distance a little between you and Colter. I know it’s not enough to do a lot with at this point. I wish I had met you months ago. Maybe it would’ve helped more then. But–”
“It helped now,” she interrupted. “I was able to air my commercial.”
“You were?” India asked, brightening a bit.
“Yeah.” Maisie smiled. “I don’t know if it’s going to do much, but it’ll be on TV, so maybe that’ll get me a few more votes.”
“That’s great, Maise. So, you’re not mad?”
“No,” she said. “I’m grateful.”
India seemed to sigh in relief and replied, “I’m glad. I worried you might be upset about it and wouldn’t want… this.” She motioned between them.
“I do. And I should apologize for the other night.”
India looked confused.
“The night I was at your place and invited you to the soccer game.”
“Okay. Why are you–”
“I think it was sort of a test,” she admitted. “I wanted to see what you’d say.”
India nodded and replied, “And I said no.”
“Your face does this thing where you look like you’re weighing all your options, and then, you say no to the things you don’t want to do.”
“It does?”
Maisie nodded this time and replied, “It does. I think that’s what hurts the most. It’s not just that you don’t want to do something.
It’s that I can see you thinking about all the other things you could be doing or eating, in the case of the first date thing, and then you choose something else.
It kind of feels like you’re choosing not me. ”
“What? Maisie, no. I–”
“I know that’s probably unfair, but I wanted to explain where I was coming from.”
“I’m sorry. I… I didn’t know I did that.”
“Finley never told you?”
“No, but–” India stopped. “No.”
“I wanted to spend time with you. That was really why I invited you. I asked to see how you would react, yes, but I just wanted to see you again. I had already promised Lainey and Paige that I’d be there, though, and I didn’t know how else to have both, so I suggested you join me there.”
“You did?” India asked with a slight smile.
“I did. I just wanted you to know that.”
“Well, I think that deserves the good wine,” India said and looked down at the empty glasses again just as the doorbell rang. “And pizza.”
“I’ll get it. Do you want to pour the wine and sit?”
Maisie motioned to the table.
“Sure.”
“Sorry, my junk mail is there. You can just push it aside. I tried to clean up a little, but my place isn’t–”
“You. Your place is you,” India said, looking around. “I like it.”
“But I don’t even have a hall closet for you to convert into a wine room,” she joked.
India laughed and poured the wine.