For the Love of Friends(50)

Don’t you?

No way! I eat candy for breakfast all the time.

You do not.

Fine. Busted. I brush my teeth twice a day and always take an umbrella when it might rain.

I was smiling. I’ll buy you dinner if you help me set up a profile.

That’s the weirdest date request ever, but sure.



I started to put my phone down, then picked it back up. Amy’s criticism that I hadn’t made an effort with Madison or replied to Jake was still rankling me. Probably because it was deserved. But where to begin with Madison?

Ugh, I thought.

I started a new text to her. Hey future sis! Just checking in and saying hi. How’s all of the wedding planning going?

I hesitated before hitting “Send.” I wished I had something to ask about other than the wedding, but I honestly didn’t know what else she liked, other than my brother, which led me to believe her taste was questionable overall. We were friends on Facebook and Instagram, but her posts were infrequent and bland. And she didn’t have a Twitter, so I couldn’t even see who she followed or retweeted. So with nothing else to work from, I sent the message.

The three dots appeared and she replied a minute later. Hi. I’m good. Everything seems to be coming together pretty well.

Not exactly effusive. And not much material to get a conversation going. I was contemplating what else I could say when she replied again. I hear you’re coming to the shower with your mom and Amy?

Yup. Booked our tickets this week. We’re looking forward to it.

Me too. She added a smiling emoji.

I thought about just telling her I wanted to get to know her, but that sounded creepy. And what on earth would I reply if someone said that to me? Was it better to just send little texts every once in a while and hope a conversation would eventually grow organically?

As I debated my next move, my phone vibrated again. But the text wasn’t from Madison, it was from Jake.

Thank you was all it said.

For what?

For making an effort, you jackass.

I rolled my eyes. Yeah yeah yeah. What else is going on?

We’re buying a house. I already knew that, from my mother’s nonstop commentary on my siblings’ lives, which, now that I thought about it, was probably why I never felt the need to talk to them.

Cool. Send me a link?

Mom told me she showed it to you already. Just say congratulations, like you’re supposed to.

I started to type something snarky about how he was just fishing for compliments and rubbing it in when I was still renting, but I took a deep breath and deleted what I had written. Congratulations.

Thanks. We’re excited. It’s got a nice guest room if you ever want to come visit.

Okay. He didn’t reply and I didn’t say any more. But it was something. I made a mental note to text him the next time my mother updated me on anything major, and, feeling somewhat absolved, I put my phone down to get ready for bed.





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO


Alex waved to me and I weaved toward his table, unwinding my scarf as I went, then sat heavily in the booth across from him. It was two weeks after we had set up my Tinder account. And an hour into my fifth Tinder date, I texted Alex to see if he wanted to meet up as soon as I could ditch the guy.

“Drink?” He had already gotten me a martini.

“Can you just get the bottle of gin and pour it directly down my throat?”

He laughed. “Went that well, huh?”

“I swear my siblings only said I could bring a date to their weddings to torture me.”

“I told you I could be your date.”

“And I told you, they said actual romantic prospects only. No ‘random friends.’”

“Do they actually need to know the difference?”

“Please don’t start. As much as I’d love to have you there for moral support, I don’t want to lie to everyone at the weddings. Because every single person there would ask us when we were getting married.”

“And you’d rather bring a random guy who you’ve been on a couple dates with?”

I shook my head and took another sip of my drink. “No. If I had found someone awesome, that would have been cool. But I’m done trying. I’ll just go and be single and when anyone asks, I’m going to say I was engaged for a while, but he kept asking me when I wanted to get married, so I murdered him with a pickax.” Alex laughed again. Mental note: use that in the blog.

For a split second, I considered telling him about the blog. Actually, I had debated telling him about it many times since I started. It would be nice to be able to share the small successes when they came. But the more anonymous I kept it, the better. And I had talked about Justin—I refused to think about the implications of why I didn’t want Alex knowing about that, assuming he hadn’t already heard, but I didn’t.

“How was your date?”

He shook his head. “I cancelled it.”

“Really? Why?”

“She was too—I don’t know—I got the feeling that I checked all the boxes by being a lawyer, so she wanted to seal the deal immediately and lock me down. Possibly literally, in her basement.”

I leaned my head on my hand, scrunched up my nose, and smiled. “Probably for the best then. You don’t want to end up in a hole, putting the lotion on its skin.”