CHAPTER 1 LIKE EDMUND HILLARY CONQUERED MR. EVEREST
“Gonna need to go home early.”
I look up from the cash register–it’s almost three and it’s not unusual for Maggie to want to go home early, but–
“You okay?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going into labor.” Maggie gives me a lopsided smile and then shakes her head. “Not everything is related to my sex injury.”
“Most people say pregnancy.”
Maggie rubs her belly and gives a dramatic sigh. At 37 weeks, she could (and maybe should?) already be resting. But she’d agreed to work an extra two weeks so Walter, my only other server, could preemptively have time off.
Maggie leans in, lowering her voice to a loud whisper. “If it wasn’t an injury, the government wouldn’t offer disability.”
I look around, but I don’t think anyone else heard: There are only three people left, the Sexy Tourist and the Shepards, an old retired couple who always linger over their late lunch/early dinner in the run-down corner booth that’s more duct tape than vinyl at this point.
“Sure. I can close up on my own.”
Maggie comes a little closer and takes the two unsold cookies. “I’ll be taking these as payment considering I’m only leaving to give you alone time with the Sexy Tourist.”
She raises her eyebrows and against my better judgment, my eyes follow her gaze.
With 13,000 people, Lake Arrowhead isn’t big enough to be considered a city or town. Instead, it’s an unincorporated community where we all went to elementary, middle and high school with each other. Thus, it’s a pretty safe bet the stranger sitting across from the register is, in fact, a tourist.
We’d both watched when he’d come in and folded himself into the rickety center booth I’ve yet to finish repairing.
He’s well over six feet tall, with the type of chiseled features most men (and women) only dream of: strong clean jawline, long-lashed blue-green eyes and tousled dark-brown curls that fade into an undercut.
He looks Latino, or mixed, with the slightly darker skin that doesn’t come from tanning beds and a form-fitting cotton shirt that does little to hide the musculature underneath.
I turn my head in an effort to not stare. “He can hear you.”
“He’s got Airpods on.” Maggie waves her hand dismissively. “I saw him bopping to a song.”
“Still.”
“My only request–made in my physically and emotionally delicate state–is for you to have some vicarious sex.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “That’s not how intercourse works. If I had the sex, you’d be the one living vicariously.”
“Did you really just say ‘the sex’?” Maggie gives me her crazy eyes.
“I cannot with you sometimes. After years pining for a reconciliation that’s never happening, this is the perfect time for revenge sex.
” She squeezes my hand and I know we’re both thinking about my ex-husband’s soon-to-be engagement.
“I haven’t been pining. I’ve dated–”
“For five months. You let me babysit Sebastian, after copious begging, and he was barely talking meaning it’s been close to seven years. My goldfish brain has already forgotten his name.”
“Liar. You called him Tyler 2.0, which you thought was cute–”
“I changed my mind; we can’t both be married to studs named Tyler. Look, if you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. My vagina is about to be obliterated by my sexual–”
“Pregnancy.”
“--I may never have the sex again. From here on it’s all diarrhea diapers and Fast and Furious erotica. Which means that as my best friend, you’re going to have to Step. It. Up.”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Maybe make new friends.”
Maggie leans forward and gives me a hug. “You know I love you. You know I’d throw myself in front of at least a mountain bike for you.”
“Wow.”
“Pre-pregnancy it would have been a motorcycle. But I can’t leave Tyler with a little orphaned baby.”
“Technically, to be an orphan–”
Maggie waves away my explanation. “Focus, sweetie. I checked last night and your dry spell has lasted four years.”
Sexy Tourist coughs and I swear he’s reacting to Maggie, but he’s still got his Airpods on, still vaguely swaying to music.
“Why did you check on that?”
“Too constipated. Couldn’t sleep. Picked a random argument with OG Tyler, and of course we had to go through text receipts–”
“You promised to stop talking to Tyler about my sex life.”
Maggie points to her belly. “Pregnancy pass. Either way, The Mistake was four years ago.”
My cheeks are flaming as I wave bye to the Shepards, who are shuffling out in that graciously slow and regal way of theirs. “You promised to stop harassing me about The Mistake.”
“It’s not harassment when it’s the truth and if I don’t shame you into action, no one will.
You’re twenty-eight. It’s time to stop pining and start living.
” She gives a meaningful glance towards Sexy Tourist, who is studying his phone intently.
“That man is both fiiiiiine and interested. Two for two.”
I shake my head again. “You can’t know that.”
Maggie laughs. “He finished his food over an hour ago, before the Shepards even got here. Then, he ordered an extra coffee and three cookies–one at a time. He always made sure you were the one taking the order and also, have you seen his body? That’s not a body that consumes cookies.
That’s a stomach you bounce cookies off of.
” Sexy Tourist clears his throat and I check, again, that he isn’t listening, while Maggie absentmindedly rubs at her neck.
I reach out, kneading her shoulders until she sighs with pleasure.
“Massage or no massage, I will never forgive you if you don’t climb that man like Edmund Hillary conquered Mr. Everest.”
“Please stop watching so many documentaries.” I rub at a particularly bad knot, which silences her for a moment.
“Your future niece won’t let me sleep without the Discovery Channel.” I step around Maggie to open the register so I can start on our closing procedures, but Maggie trails after me. “Can you at least admit that man is fine?”
I focus on straightening the bills in our old-fashioned bank deposit bag. “Yes. Objectively fine.”
Maggie claps a happy little hand over her mouth, “Fiiiiiine.”
“I hate you.”
In response, Maggie saunters away, mouthing do him as she exits, the little bell jingling above.
Even though I smile back, I can’t help feeling the gap between our lives is growing. She’s five months younger, but it feels like five years. Single motherhood will do that to you, I guess.
After I clean up the Shepards’ table and split their modest tip into my Now and Future purses, I wipe everything down one last time. Vera will pick up Sebastian and keep him until it’s time for us to eat dinner together, but I try to get home early when possible.
I have zero intention of following through on Maggie’s suggestions. It’s not just that I’ve never had a one night stand–it’s that Tyler 2.0 is the only person I’ve slept with outside of Jesse. It had felt so wrong, I’d been almost nauseous, afterwards. No need to go through that again.
When I’ve stalled as much as I can, I stop by Sexy Tourist’s table. “Anything else I can get you?”
He looks up at me and grins. It is a devastatingly handsome expression, all dimples, gleaming white teeth and confidence. He doesn’t bother to hide his amusement. “Four years, huh?”