by Coleen Kwan
“See, I knew we were talking apples and oranges when it came to dud dates,” Lily said. “Nothing embarrassing actually happened to you on those dates. Not like the time I accidentally set myself on fire.”
His eyes widened. “How the hell did that happen?”
“It was a noisy restaurant, and the guy was a low talker. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. So I leaned in, got too close to the candle, and the brim of my hat started burning.”
“Holy crap. Were you okay?”
“Luckily a waiter threw a jug of water over my head and put the fire out.” She paused, remembering the incident. “It was an orange raffia hat. I made it myself.”
While the waiters and other diners had rushed to her aid, her date had just sat there gibbering uselessly. The next day he’d texted to tell her he couldn’t see her anymore because he was so traumatized by what had happened.
Sighing, Lily leaned against the headrest. “That happened two years ago, and that was the last date I went on until today. Guess my luck hasn’t changed much since then.”
All the memories of past bad dates coalesced into a dark, sour fog that pressed down on her. Usually she was philosophical about life’s hurdles, but tonight was different somehow. Maybe she’d lowered her barriers and allowed hope—ephemeral and unpredictable—to creep in only for it to be crushed. To her dismay she felt the faint prickling of tears at the back of her throat. Oh no. She couldn’t start blubbering in front of Caleb.
Blinking fiercely, she forced a brittle laugh. “Yeah, I could use some luck. A lucky genie, or better yet a dating coach. A seasoned pilot to guide me through the dangerous shoals of modern dating.” She gazed at him, her throat tight. Then a memory of his warm hand clasping hers on the dance floor eased the constriction. This man, a total stranger up until a few hours ago, had noticed her dilemma and tried to assist her. There were still some decent men in the world, and who knew, maybe he could help her further. “How about you?” she blurted out.
Caleb’s eyebrows shot up. “Me?”
She couldn’t believe what she’d just said. But the roller coaster night had landed her in alien territory. Who knew she’d end up with Caleb sitting in her car? Everything felt surreal, as if it wasn’t her saying these things.
“Yes. You seem like a man who knows a thing or two about dating, if you don’t mind my saying so.” She was babbling now, a habit she sometimes fell into when trying to recover from an awkward situation. “I’m sure you couldn’t get me a worse date than the one I’ve just had.”
Caleb shifted in his seat. “Lily—”
Before he could say anything further, a bearded man with an enormous gut banged on the hood. “Hey, sorry about that!” He pointed at the red SUV parked in front of them and grinned. “We’ll get out of your way in just a sec.”
The man was with a group of friends, all of them loud and in high spirits. With a lot of guffawing, the man and his companions climbed into the SUV and slowly drove off, leaving the way clear for Lily. She realized that while she and Caleb had been talking, the chili festival had drawn to a close, and the parking lot had come to life again, with people ambling in and vehicles revving to life.
She could sense Caleb still looking at her. God, why had she blabbed on so much about her miserable dates? A deep urge to be alone rose in her.
“Thanks for sitting with me,” she said, her face averted, “but I should be getting home now.”
He seemed to be debating what to say, but eventually he just murmured, “Good night, Lily,” and climbed out of the car.
She didn’t feel any better after he had left. She cranked Kermit up and pulled away.
Arriving home, Lily went straight to the glass tank set up in the corner of her living room and peered into it. Her bearded dragon was asleep standing up, his belly pressed against the glass.
“Oh, Noodles.” She sighed. Her pet reptile often fell asleep in awkward positions that amused her. If only he were awake so she could take him out of his tank for a cuddle, but she didn’t want to disturb his sleep.
There was only one way to deal with her dismal night, and that was her favorite Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. But when she searched her freezer, she discovered she’d run out.
“Crap.” She yanked open her fridge. A three-quarters full wine bottle sat in the door shelf. Without thinking twice, she grabbed it, kicked the fridge shut, scooped up a wineglass, and meandered back to the living room, where she plonked herself on her couch.
It probably wasn’t very smart downing more alcohol after the beer she’d had at the chili festival, she thought as she swallowed the first sips. But she deserved it, didn’t she, after tonight? Memories flashed through her brain, each one painfully vivid. She didn’t want to think about her date. But then there was Caleb. She couldn’t believe some of the things she’d said to him. Had she really told him about the time she’d set her hat on fire? And why had she asked him to be her dating coach? He must know she was only joking. She groaned aloud.
Why was she torturing herself, and why wasn’t this wine working? Taking another gulp, she reached for her cell phone to check her messages. Nothing from Nick. Well, of course she didn’t want to hear from him again, but he might at least have apologized for misleading her about why he’d really chosen her for a “date.”
She hadn’t had a steady boyfriend since her college days. The disintegration of that relationship had put her off dating for years, and when she’d eventually dipped her toe into the dating pool, she’d found it daunting and dispiriting. Not that she was desperate for a man. Not at all. She had a well-paying job as an accountant, a small but close group of friends, and her own home. Plus she had her dad, her biggest champion, though he worked too hard and refused to slow down.
“I don’t even need a man, do I?” she said. “Oh God, I’m talking to myself.” And she took another gulp of her wine.
No, she didn’t need a man to complete her life, but if she was completely honest with herself, she had always envisioned her future including a loving husband and at least two or three children. She’d thought—hoped—that her dream would simply materialize by itself, but at twenty-six and with a dating track record that was pitiful, she’d finally acknowledged that she needed a little extra help. Which was why she’d signed up to eCherish. A practical decision, she’d told herself even as she tried not to get her hopes up.
Her first date had been the very definition of dismal.
Grimacing, she opened the eCherish app, brought up the last message Nick had sent her, and jabbed on the ‘Sorry it didn’t work out’ menu option. Would she like to leave a parting message for Nick? No, she definitely did not, at least, not one using polite language.
She scrolled through the other men who had given her daisies, the tokens eCherish used for members to express their interest in someone. With Nick gone, she currently had two daisies, two potential boyfriends. But which one to choose? Oh, it was too difficult. Besides, she shouldn’t make any decisions while she was still smarting from tonight’s disaster.
She closed the app and opened Facebook. Usually she didn’t spend a lot of time on social media, but Maddie, her closest friend from college, was an active user and required constant updates from Lily. After graduation, Maddie had stayed in San Francisco and had just started a new job at a publishing company.
Reading through Maddie’s latest posts didn’t cheer Lily up. Her friend was loving her new job, she’d just gotten engaged to her longtime boyfriend, and they were planning a trip to Hawaii soon. Lily was glad for her, but what news could she offer in return? Just got back from horror date. The only reason he asked me out was to make his ex-girlfriend jealous. When he realized I wasn’t exactly jealous-making material, the jerk abandoned me. On the dance floor, in front of everyone. And then I sat in my car with the hottest guy in Pine Falls and gabbed on about my lousy dating history before propositioning him to be my dating coach. Yeah, right. She wasn’t putting that on Facebook.
Just putt
ing my feet up tonight with a glass of wine. She typed out the cheery, nondescript post in reply and hit the button.
She didn’t expect an answer anytime soon, but a few seconds later her cell started pinging, reminding her that Maddie was a hardcore addict to her phone.
After catching up on each other’s news, Lily heavily abbreviating hers, Maddie posted, Can’t wait till we see each other at the reunion! It’s gonna be soooo much fun!!!!
Lily frowned as she replied, Huh? You know I’m not going to the reunion.
A few seconds later, Whaaat??? Say it isn’t so!!! (shocked face emoji)
Lily: I told you that when we spoke last month. Reunions aren’t my thing.
Maddie: But, but, but!!! But you’re gonna miss so much fun. You said you might come????
At the time, Lily recalled, she’d said that just to get her friend off her back, but clearly Maddie had taken it to mean she’d convinced Lily to go.
Lily sipped her wine while she contemplated how to reply. After being homeschooled by her dad in sleepy Pine Falls, going to college in San Francisco had been a shock to the system, to put it mildly. Her first year had been challenging, except that she’d had the great luck of having Maddie as her roommate. Maddie, who was loud and gregarious and loveable, wouldn’t let her hole up in her dorm room like she wanted and had dragged her out to every possible social occasion. And thank God she had. Gradually Lily had learned to relax, made friends with others, and started to enjoy college life. She owed Maddie more than she’d ever know, and she missed her fun, outgoing friend. Plus the three or four other women she’d become firm friends with were now all working in different parts of the country. She’d love to see them all again, but the extra baggage of a college reunion was a major deterrent.
Her phone pinged again. Maddie was getting impatient.
I’ve already told everyone you’re coming, so you gotta come, pretty pleeeeeeezzzzze! Oh BTW there’s a private group for the reunion and I made you a member. You should totally check it out. Everyone is going, so you should, too! I insist!!!
Lily groaned, but she couldn’t get too mad with Maddie. It was her way of showing she cared. The least Lily could do was demonstrate some appreciation.
Lily topped off her wineglass. The alcohol was numbing the sharp edges of her thoughts, which was a good thing because she didn’t want to think too hard at the moment. All right, she would check out this private group that she was now a member of, say hello to people she knew, and post a sorry-can’t-make-it apology note.
It wouldn’t take more than five minutes. Then she’d go to bed and say goodbye to this special, awful night. That, at least, was something to look forward to.
Chapter Three
Shards of light burrowed beneath Lily’s eyelids, forcing her awake. She lifted a head that felt heavy and swollen. Where was she? Pain shuddered through her, pounding at her neck, her spine, and especially her brain. Ouch, that hurt… What had she done?
As her blurred surroundings slowly came into focus, she realized she was lying in a twisted heap on her couch, still in her clothes from yesterday. Brilliant morning sunshine poured through the opened curtains, making her wince.
What time was it? And, oh God, why did her mouth feel like moldy sandpaper?
She heaved herself into an upright position and instantly regretted it as the room swam around her. Ugh, how much alcohol had she drunk last night? Resting her forehead in her hands, she caught sight of the upturned wineglass lying on the carpet near her feet. Next to it, an empty wine bottle and her phone, splattered with a few drops of wine.
Groaning, she picked up the phone, wiped it on her jeans, and checked the time. It was past nine, but since it was Sunday, there was no need to rush off to work. Good thing, too, with this pounding headache.
Then, as she gazed at the phone, hazy memories of what she’d done last night after getting home began to filter back. Her phone, the wine, Maddie, the college reunion… Oh no. I couldn’t have. Please God, please make it all a bad dream.
Her fingers trembled as she opened up Facebook and scrolled through all the posts she’d read and responded to last night. Her stomach rolled like a queasy sailor’s. It wasn’t a bad dream. It had all happened. No, no, no! How could she be so stupid?
She stared at the entry she’d written, the words burning into her throbbing retinas.
Of course I’m coming to the reunion. And I’m bringing my boyfriend. He’s such a sweetie and so hot. And I mean hawt! So ladies, when you meet him, hands off! Especially you, Shari. This one’s all mine!
“No…” Lily groaned as she clutched her phone, willing the message to vanish into thin air.
She’d really written that. Used the word “hawt.” And a string of emojis that included burritos, hot peppers, and cucumbers. Burritos, really?
What had possessed her to do something so stupid? Scanning through the group posts, she soon realized why—Shari Slater, her old nemesis from college who, for reasons unknown, always had it in for Lily. In the past, Lily had tried to ignore her, but last night she’d failed miserably. Shari had made a point of telling Lily how great her life was, flaunting her high-powered job, flashy car, and amazing fiancé. It was as if she wanted to impress on everyone how superior she was to Lily.
In what must have been a moment of madness, Lily had declared she had a boyfriend, too, and a hot one at that. Shari didn’t believe her. She’d demanded a photo. Lily had told her she’d have to wait and see. Shari had just about called her a liar, which had made Lily’s friends jump to her defense. Especially Maddie, her staunchest supporter.
Maddie’s responses were so excited, so triumphant. Woo-hoo! Can’t wait to meet this hottie!!!! I told you all Lily was coming!!!
She’d sent Lily a private message, too. OMG you’ve been holding out on me!!! What have I been missing??? Honestly, I’m so happy for you, especially since it’ll shut up Shari and her clique. Tell me everything, okay? Mwah!
This was so bad… The phone slipped through Lily’s fingers and bounced onto the carpet. She pushed to her feet, ignoring the rush of pain to her head, and staggered to the bathroom. Leaning over the basin, she splashed her face with cold water until her skin stung. She found a pack of pain relief medication in the cabinet and downed two tablets with a glass of water. She scowled at her reflection in the mirror. What a fright. There were bags under her eyes, her skin was too pale, and, after a night restlessly tossing on the cushions, her hair was a crazy mop of wild curls. If she ever wanted to be a clown, she wouldn’t have to do a thing about her hair.
Then, squinting more closely, she started to delve her fingers through the matted curls. Where was her lucky barrette? She hurried back to the living room, tossed all the cushions off the couch, peered under it, behind it, squeezed her hands into every spot her barrette could have slid into. Still nothing. It must have fallen off in her car. She went outside and searched Kermit thoroughly, her unease mounting. Then she retraced her steps through the house, riffling through her possessions with increasing desperation. Eventually she was forced to face the truth.
She’d lost her lucky barrette. The one her mom had bought for her when she was ten, just a few short weeks before her mom had slipped away, overwhelmed by her illness. Lily slumped back down on the sofa, her heart leaden. She could still feel her mom’s thin fingers fixing the barrette to her hair and hear her saying how pretty she looked. At ten, she’d already known she wasn’t pretty, that she was different from the other kids in her class. Some of them called her names; most of them simply ignored her. But that barrette was one of the last sweet memories she had of her mom, and ever since then she’d worn the hairclip whenever she needed to bolster her confidence.
And now, somewhere at the chili festival or the journey home, she’d lost it. It wasn’t a particularly expensive piece; it was only gold-and-silver plated, with tiny rhinestones. No one finding it would think it worth anything. But it meant the world to Lily.
She buried her head in he
r hands, wallowing in her dejection. On the floor, her cell phone pinged. She ignored it, until it pinged again. Irritated, she picked it up, intending to silence it, but when she saw the notification on her screen, her eyes widened.
A Facebook message from Caleb Willmett. Hey, Lily. Is this yours? There was a photo of a gold-and-silver barrette.
She sucked in a breath and tapped out a quick reply. Yes! How did you find it?
In the parking lot. Saw it after you drove off.
How lucky was that, him spotting the small barrette in the dimly lit parking lot with all those cars pulling out?
Another message from Caleb arrived on her phone. I’m working today but I can drop it off after three.
He was a contractor, so he was probably working at a house. I can pick it up now, she messaged.
Great. He added the address.
She jumped up from the couch, a different kind of anxiety jittering through her at the thought of coming face-to-face with Caleb so soon after last night. She wouldn’t mention what she’d talked about before. She’d pretend she’d never said a thing about a dating coach. But what about the rash lies she’d told everyone in that college reunion group? She’d have to admit she’d lied, which would make her cringe, especially explaining it to Maddie, who’d been bursting with happiness for her. It would be excruciating…
But maybe there was an alternative.
She could turn a wish into reality and take that “hawt” boyfriend to the reunion, for real. And if she took up the challenge, with only six weeks left until the party, she did really need a dating coach. Could Caleb help her? Did she even have the guts to ask him for real this time? Her nerves jittered at the prospect of merely seeing him again, let alone articulating her need. But if she was serious about getting a boyfriend, a serious, long-term boyfriend, then Caleb might be her best hope.
