by Dylann Crush
CapGuard90: I think that when we do that, when we open ourselves up like that, we’re going to end up getting hurt. It’s just how the world works. But if you stop doing it—if you shut yourself off from another person who might have that power—then you basically stop living. At least, that’s what I believe.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: I guess you’re probably right. It’s easier sometimes, though, to stay shut off. Safer.
CapGuard90: There are some people who might say that having a sort of relationship with someone you only talk to through a computer is safer, too.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Are you trying to psychoanalyze me here? I’m not gonna lie. That sounded kind of patronizing.
CapGuard90: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like that. I was talking about myself as much as you. Us, I guess. Here we’ve been chatting to each other for over six months and we don’t know anything real about each other. I like you a lot. I think about our chats all day. But we haven’t even told each other our names. Doesn’t that frustrate you sometimes?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: I guess maybe sometimes, but . . . to be honest, I feel like you know more about the real me than almost anyone else. Maybe that sounds strange to you. Maybe you have a ton of people in your life who you can talk to. Maybe I’m just one of many. But for me—you’re it. I know that might sound embarrassing, but I don’t lie to you.
CapGuard90: I don’t lie to you, either. And you’re right—you do know me well, maybe better than if you knew me IRL. I don’t tell the people around me some of the shit I share with you. So forgive me, please. Sometimes I wish I could actually talk to you because writing is not my strong point.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: I think you do fine with writing. I understand you. And no apology necessary. Maybe we need to make this an apology-free zone—a place where we start at the assumption that the other person has the best of intentions.
CapGuard90: I like that idea. Okay, you asked me a question earlier—now I’m going to ask you one. If you hurt someone, even if you did what you thought was right at the time, do you think it’s possible for that person to forgive you?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: That’s an interesting question. I guess it depends on if the person agrees that it was the right thing to do. Like, if you smacked me on the back real hard, I might initially be annoyed, but when you show me you were killing a mosquito, then I’d forgive you. But if that person doesn’t agree . . . also I think you have to question your motives. It’s been my experience that sometimes when someone says he’s doing something for another’s own good, he stands to gain from it, too. Maybe not consciously, but in some way.
CapGuard90: Interesting theory. Please expand.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Okay, well, let’s look at an example we both understand. In that one movie, Tony comes up with the idea of an artificial intelligence . . . why? To save the world, right? And that’s true. But OTOH, he has a secondary motive, too.
CapGuard90: Ah. Fear. He’s afraid because of the vision Wanda gave him.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Bingo. So Tony would say he acted for the overall good, but he was also thinking of himself, even it wasn’t consciously.
CapGuard90: Very astute. I like it—for Tony. For me—it makes me kind of squirm because I think you could be on to something.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Don’t beat yourself up. Whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll make it right. But I’m gonna have to sign off for now.
CapGuard90: You worked overnight last night?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Yeah. Why?
CapGuard90: Oh . . . nothing. Get some rest. Sleep tight. And thanks for chatting.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Will do. Night, Cap.
CapGuard90: Good night, Peggy. Sweet dreams.
4
“Darcy, I made a few changes to Donnie Crew’s diet plan last night, based on a talk the two of us had yesterday. I wrote out the explanation in his chart. Can you go over that with him this morning?” Emma picks up her phone, scowls at it like it’s her enemy, and glances up at me. “I’d do it myself, but I have to go to another stupid meeting.”
“Sorry about that,” I sympathize. “But sure, I can do that. I like to spend time with Donnie. He’s a hoot.”
“He sure is,” Emma chuckles. Her smile fades as she studies me, taking in my dress and heels. “Oh, crap, you had another ball meeting today, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” I struggle not to grimace. I’m trying to make the best of this insane situation, and that includes not making Emma feel bad for giving me the assignment. “Actually, it was fine. The meeting didn’t last as long as it took me to drive over to the coast.”
“Was Jackson there?” Emma lowers her voice, and this time, I sigh. Thanks to a girls’ night that included bottomless margaritas, Emma and Jenny both know the story of my ill-fated romance with Jackson Carmichael. So when I came back from the first meeting and told them about my surprise, they were both supportive and filled with righteous indignation on my behalf.
“He was,” I tell Emma now. “He didn’t say anything to me before we started. I ducked out early before the meeting ended—I told them I had to get back to work—so he didn’t have a chance to corner me again.”
“Good thinking.” She nods. “You wouldn’t want a repeat of the day you two went out to meet with bands and deejays.”
She’s not wrong. I dreaded that day for two weeks before it happened. Because each sub-committee only has two members, it was just Jackson and me, spending an entire afternoon at the hotel, meeting with deejays and band leaders. I was secretly relieved that he did the lion’s share of the preliminary work, weeding out those who had bad reviews or who were already booked for the night of the Jingle Balls Gala.
But still, there we sat next to each other at a small table while a variety of people paraded in and out, each claiming to be the perfect fit for our event.
“The tough part about this is finding someone who can present the right balance of music. We can’t have hard-core rock n’ roll, because some of the more senior guests might not be down for that.” Jackson stretched his arms over his head during a brief break in the action.
“We could look for a band that only plays music from the 1940s,” I suggested, thinking of my Cap vibe. I waited for him to make fun of my idea.
To my surprise, Jackson cocked his head. “I could live with that. But since the ball isn’t themed that way, we might have to add a few more contemporary numbers to pacify everyone.” He paused. “Remember when we went to the summer hop in the square at Harper Springs? They only played songs from the fifties and sixties. We had a blast.” His hand came down to the back of my chair, his fingers almost touching the bare skin of my shoulder. “I’ve missed that for a long time—the good times we had when we were together.”
I bristled. “Sure, you did. You missed the good times so much that you flew across the country just to make sure we didn’t have too many of them, huh?”
Jackson had the good grace to look pained. “Darcy, it wasn’t like that. If you would just let me explain—”
I held up my hand. “Don’t even bother. I wouldn’t believe you, no matter what you said, so save your breath.”
He glowered at me. “You never used to be so hard, Darcy. You weren’t bitter like this. That was one of the things I loved about you—no matter what was happening, you found a way to put a positive spin on things. What happened to that girl?”
I couldn’t believe he was asking me that question. “She met a boy who lied to her. He led her on, he left her alone, and he broke her heart. After that, she had a tough time believing that everyone else wouldn’t do the same thing.”
“Darcy, can we just talk about this . . .” Jackson blew out a long breath. “It won’t matter, will it? Because nothing I say can change me from the monster you built in your head seven years ago.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but it was at that moment that the next deejay came in to pitch
his services to us. He was the last appointment of the day, and as it turned out, he was also the best one we’d met. After we shook his hand and promised to be in touch, Jackson and I looked at each other and nodded in agreement. We’d found our music.
I was more than a little surprised when Jackson stood up to leave. “I’ll take care of getting this dude’s name and info to Mrs. Lockhart so she can send him a contract.” His tone was brisk and business-like. “If you can begin putting together the suggestions for his playlist, I think that will wrap up our job as a sub-committee.”
And then before I could open my mouth again, Jackson was gone, rabbiting out of the office with incredible dexterity. Since running away from a chat with him was usually my role, I was slightly nonplussed.
“So now you’re, what? Just taking off?” I didn’t mean to say it, but the words came pouring out of my mouth, anyway.
“Yeah, Darcy, I am. I think we’re done here, don’t you?”
I square my shoulders. “I guess we are.”
Jackson rolled his eyes, muttered something under his breath and stomped to the door. He hesitated for just a moment then, not turning around, but speaking loudly enough that I could hear him clearly.
“You need to decide what it is you want from me, Darcy. If you want to punish the two of us for something that happened seven years ago, something that you won’t even let me begin to talk about, then that’s your choice, and we both have to live with it. But don’t expect me to keep begging for your time and attention. I’m not going to be your whipping boy for the rest of our lives. So . . . you think about it. You know where to find me.”
I did think about what he said all the way home that day. When I talked to Jenny and Emma later, I left out his parting volley and only told them that Jackson had tried to get me to talk about the past. I don’t know why I didn’t share what he’d said, except that it made me oddly uncomfortable in a way that I couldn’t explain.
Then there was today’s meeting when Jackson acted like a polite stranger around me. After months of his ardent pursuit, the change was abrupt and unsettling. The fact that it bothers me so much is making me second-guess myself.
And I don’t like that feeling one bit.
5
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Hey, Cap. How are you tonight?
CapGuard90: I’m in a shitty mood, since you asked.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Aww, I’m sorry. What’s going on? Is it work?
CapGuard90: No, work is actually going really well these days. This is personal.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Want to talk about it?
CapGuard90: Probably not. Nothing’s going to change the past, you know? Maybe it’s just time to move on.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: I don’t want to pry. Is this a romantic past thing? I know we don’t usually talk about that kind of stuff.
CapGuard90: No, we don’t, but maybe we should. I don’t have anyone else I can discuss this with. If you don’t mind, I mean.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Of course, I don’t mind. I’m happy to listen. In a virtual way, you know. Just pretend I’m sitting next to you, wearing an expression of utter concentration.
CapGuard90: I’d have to know what you look like to imagine that. Care to clue me in?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Uh-uh, bud. You know the rules. No names, no details, no physical descriptions.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Unless we’re changing the rules. Are we?
CapGuard90: No, you’re right, Peggy. Thanks for keeping me on the straight and narrow.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Someone’s got to do it. So tell me your troubles, soldier.
CapGuard90: I feel like I should be bellied up to some bar. Okay, here’s the thing. A while back, I was in a serious relationship with a woman I loved. I did something that I’m not proud of. I thought I was doing the right thing. People I trusted told me that I was. It cost me her love. But I’ve realized lately that maybe in this case, right and wrong are a matter of perspective. Realizing that, though, doesn’t change the past. I’m not sure if anything can make it better.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Hmmm. That’s not a lot to go on, but I’m going to say—all we can do is our best. If you’ve done everything you can to make amends, then it’s out of your hands.
CapGuard90: I guess. But I don’t think it’s going to be enough. What if forgiveness isn’t an option?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: I can’t imagine someone not forgiving you—but then again, I can’t imagine you doing anything so bad that you’d need it. Give it some time. I bet the person you’re worried about will come around.
CapGuard90: I’m glad you feel that way. I wish I was as certain as you are.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: I’m sure enough for both of us. You know, it’s funny. I’ve been thinking about forgiveness lately, too. For a long time, I’ve been holding onto my hurt and anger over something. I’m beginning to think maybe I need to listen to my own advice. Maybe it’s time for me to let go and move on.
CapGuard90: Did someone hurt you, Peggy? Do I need to beat up that someone?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: It was a long time ago, Cap. Save your punches! I trusted my heart to a guy who I thought I knew. Turned out I was really wrong—like in a big way.
CapGuard90: That sucks. I’m sorry it happened to you. Are you still in touch with this guy? Has he apologized? Has he said he’s sorry?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: He’s recently come back into my life. Apologize? Not in so many words.
CapGuard90: Let me tell you . . . if the woman I lost would give me a second chance, I’d tell her exactly how I feel. I’d let her know that I still love her. I’d do anything to make it up to her. And once I had her back, I’d never let her go.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: That’s so beautiful. I wish she could see this and know what she lost.
CapGuard90: It might not matter. She isn’t ever going to get over what I did.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: I’m sorry, and I’m sending you a virtual hug.
CapGuard90: Thanks, Peggy. Okay, enough of the deep stuff. How was your day?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Great. I spent the day shopping with my girlfriends. It was fun!
CapGuard90: Oh, some early Christmas shopping?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: No, we have this big formal event coming up, so we drove to the city, tried on gowns and shoes and had lunch together. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time!
CapGuard90: Big formal event, huh? Is it a wedding or something?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: No, it’s a charity ball. Kind of funny, actually—it’s a gala to benefit research into a cure for testicular cancer, and they call it the Jingle Balls Gala. Get it?
CapGuard90: Yeah. When is this big event?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: The beginning of December—the 5th. So we still have about six weeks, but today was the only time all three of us could take off work at the same time. I’m on the planning committee, and I want to make sure I look perfect. To tell you the truth, the guy who I was talking about? The one who broke my heart? He’s going to be there. That’s really why I care about how I look.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Cap?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Cap, are you still there?
CapGuard90: Sorry, I have to go. Talk to you later.
CapGuard90: Peggy, you around?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Yeah! Hey! Everything okay? You disappeared fast the other day, and then I didn’t hear from you . . . I was worried you’d been kidnapped.
CapGuard90: Nah, I’m all good. I just found out I have to be in Florida at the beginning of December, so I was figuring that out.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Really? Where in Florida?
CapGuard90: St. Pete Beach. The first weekend in December.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: You’re kidding me.
CapGuard90: No, why?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Wow. Um, I’m going to break like a dozen of our rules here, Cap, but this is just spooky. I live in Florida. Less than 2 hours from St. Pete Beach.
CapGuard90: Huh. That’s wild!
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Yeah, it is. What’s even crazier is—that ball I’m
going to attend? It’s in St. Pete Beach. The first weekend in December.
CapGuard90: You’re right, that’s crazy.
CapGuard90: Uh, Peggy, I have an even more insane idea. Since we’re breaking rules here . . . it feels like this is the universe telling us it’s time to meet. What do you say?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: You mean, like in person? Face to face?
CapGuard90: Face to face, baby. Let’s do it.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: OMG. I don’t know. What if you’re really disappointed when you see me IRL?
CapGuard90: That could never happen. You’re my friend, Peggy. That’s all that matters.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Of course, you’re right. We’re friends. Okay, then. Wow. We’re doing this?
CapGuard90: We’re doing this.
SteveNPeggy4Eva: OH! I don’t know if you’d want to do this, but . . . as a committee member, I’m allowed to bring a plus-one. I wasn’t going to use the extra ticket, but—would you want to come to the Jingle Balls Gala?
CapGuard90: For real?
SteveNPeggy4Eva: Absolutely.
CapGuard90: Baby, I’ll be there with bells on.
6
“This may be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in real life.”
The three of us—Jenny, Emma and me—are in the hotel room that we’re sharing for the night. None of us wanted to drive all the way back to Harper Springs after the ball, so we emptied our piggy banks for this—the rooms aren’t cheap. But they’re beautiful, and what I spent is worth every penny, since we’re having so much fun getting ready together.
Jenny presses her hands to her cheeks and gives a little squeal. “I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on us, not saying a word about your on-line hottie, and tonight you’re going to meet him in person. It’s like a Nora Ephron movie. Like Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle.”
“Only they’re meeting at the ball, not at the top of the Empire State Building.” Emma is a strict literalist when it comes to rom coms and chick flicks.
