Cooper: I really thought it was a great opening statement. Deserved some love.
Making lemonade out of lemons. That’s the only thing I can do at this point. Luckily, she texts back right away, not making me sweat out a response.
Nora: How long did it take you to write said opening statement?
Cooper: Cool guy answer—off the top of my head. Real answer—half an hour.
Nora: LOL that took you half an hour? Was hearting it part of the plan?
Cooper: The hearting it was a mistake. I was hoping there was a delete option but instead I hearted it.
Nora: So, you spent half an hour working on a text message and then sent it, realized it wasn’t great, then tried to delete it—even though that’s not a thing—and hearted it instead.
Cooper: That would be the gist of this loathsome and shameful interaction.
Nora: Loathsome and shameful . . . labeling it already?
Cooper: How would you label it?
Nora: Intriguing.
The tension and nerves that have built in my chest ease as the smallest of smirks tugs at my lips. Maybe this isn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. Sure, she’s busting my balls, but I wouldn’t expect anything less.
Cooper: Intrigued, huh? Was it the hearting my own text?
Nora: It was, makes me think that even though you look like the modern-day man, you have the tendencies of an old curmudgeon which, oddly, fascinates me.
Cooper: Or a divorcé who is extremely nervous.
Nora: Oooh, interesting take. But I think I’m going to stick with the curmudgeon.
I laugh, immediately grateful for how easygoing Nora is. Not sure this would have gone as well with someone else.
Cooper: I think you just like saying that word in your head.
Nora: I’ve actually been saying it out loud and it feels nice coming off my tongue. Very pleasing to say. Try it.
“Curmudgeon,” I say, just for the hell of it.
Cooper: Hmm, it is pleasing to say out loud, but it isn’t as aesthetically pleasing as some other words I’ve come across.
Nora: Oooh, educate me, please, Mr. Editor. Dazzle me with your words.
That’s me—Mr. Editor. Not even sure how I got into the job, to be honest. I always enjoyed reading fiction, and when my plans for traveling around the world with Dealia didn’t pan out right away, I started freelance editing, something I’d done on and off in college for extra cash. Before I knew it, a nonfiction publisher picked me up, and I’ve been stuck ever since.
I only wish the material was more interesting.
But, on the positive side, I do know a lot of words.
Cooper: Splendiferous.
Nora: Sounds made up. Like someone doesn’t quite know if they’re trying to say an adverb, verb, or adjective and kind of threw them all together. Next.
I smirk and hunker down into my couch while propping my socked feet up on the coffee table.
Cooper: Cataclysmic.
Nora: Okay, Debbie Downer. I’m saying no not just because you went to the opposite extreme to splendiferous, but also because the C’s and T’s are harsh coming off my tongue. Next.
I glance up at the ceiling, trying to think of a word that would beat “curmudgeon”—which, honestly, feels jumbled on my tongue at times.
Oh, I’ve got one.
Cooper: Ephemeral.
Nora: Use it in a sentence, please.
Cooper: Palmer’s choice in cake flavors was ephemeral.
Nora: Ehhh, I know you can do better. You’ve got one more shot at this. Hit me with a good one or I’m afraid this texting conversation must come to an end, despite its brilliant and satisfying start.
I lean forward, a huge grin on my face as I stare down at my phone. One more shot, huh? Given where my head was at when I started this conversation, I have the perfect word.
Cooper: Incipient.
Nora: Please use it in a sentence.
My smirk grows even wider as I type out my response.
Cooper: Even though this energy between us is incipient, I would love to see where it goes.
Nora: I see what you did there.
Cooper: Did you like it?
Nora: You’ll have to text me tomorrow to find out. Good night, Cooper.
Hope blooms inside me as I text her back.
Cooper: Am I going to be required to dazzle you with my words again?
Nora: Possibly. We will see what I’m interested in tomorrow. It changes from day to day, after all. Until tomorrow . . .
Cooper: Good night, Nora.
I set my phone down on the coffee table and stand from my couch. Hands behind my neck, I let out a long breath of air and pace the length of my living room.
Holy shit, I can’t believe I just did that.
Looks like someone is back in the game.