by Hilary Dartt
“Great,” Delaney muttered.
Mitchell opened his menu while Delaney glared at Summer and Josie.
“I hear the cashew chicken is to die for,” Summer said to Mitchell, leaning toward him.
“You know, I need to use the restroom,” Delaney said. “Please excuse me.”
As she walked away, Mitchell cleared his throat and said, “Allergic to nuts, actually.”
***
She was still pacing the bathroom when Josie walked in.
“What are you doing here?” Delaney hissed.
“Just getting a bite,” Josie said coolly. “The cashew chicken really is good.”
“You’re spying on me.”
“You had sex with him?!” Josie said.
Delaney began pacing again. She’d known it the moment she’d invited him to come home with her. She’d known they would find out. They always did. And although she should have anticipated they’d stoop so low as to spy on her, she hadn’t expected it. She felt stupid. She felt betrayed. And she felt angry.
“I chose to. I wanted to. I wanted sex. He was nice. Is that so bad? You didn’t even go to yoga!”
“We’re talking about you, not me, Delaney. Rule Number Eight. No sex.”
“You know what? You say everything is Rule Number Eight! Three-drink limit, no logging onto FindLove.com, no sex. It’s all Rule Number Eight to you!”
Josie shrugged. “We didn’t say no kissing. No messing around. No going to third base. No having a decent orgasm. We said no sex. You don’t even like this guy. We saw the way you lit up when you met Jake at the fountain yesterday —”
“What? You saw me at the fountain yesterday?”
Josie’s face froze, mouth open, eyes wide. “Shit. I’m sending Summer in.”
In a rare display of backing down, she ducked her head and scuttled out of the bathroom.
“You have to be kidding me,” Delaney said to her reflection.
In the painting on the wall, a serene Chinese woman under a blooming cherry tree looked on. Delaney rolled her eyes just as Summer breezed in.
“Josie’s sent me in to smooth things over.”
“She realized the big guns were too much and sent in the professional mediator, huh?”
Summer nodded, shrugged. “Guilty. Anyway, we totally spied on you. Yesterday when I was driving home after Sarah and Nate’s baseball practices, I saw you. You looked really nice, by the way. But you looked too nice. I knew what you were up to. So I called Josie, dropped off the kids and we came to watch you.”
“You guys are crazy. Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Right now? Probably. Let’s see. Oh, right. I could’ve taken the kids home, cooked them dinner, sat around the table with my own family. But you know what? I didn’t. You know why? Because you need us. You need us. If you can’t see that, especially when you’re out to dinner with Mitchell Evans, Esquire, who hasn’t smiled a genuine smile, not one single time, since he saw you, then you need us even more. So if you’re mad about us spying on you, then fine! To use your favorite word, fine!”
As she stormed out of the bathroom, she yelled over her shoulder, “Rule Number Eight, Dee. We love you.”
At a loss, Delaney shrugged at the serene Chinese woman in the painting. “I have no idea how to fix this,” she said. The Chinese woman just stared. “Why can’t I be more like you?”
When she walked out of the bathroom, she wondered (not for the first time) why Chinese restaurants were always so quiet. Why didn’t anybody put on some nice music? The people seated in the back room, near the restroom, stared at her as she walked back to her table, muttering to herself.
Summer and Josie had vacated their table, and left their full glasses of water sweating on the paper placemats. Mitchell looked apologetic. Summer was right: he hadn’t looked happy to see her all evening. He just looked sorry he existed.
“Your friends left,” he said, adding an awkward, “Stating the obvious, right?”
“Sorry, that was uncomfortable,” she said. “They mean well.”
“It’s okay. That’s part of why I don’t have friends. More work than they’re worth.”
They hadn’t discussed that on top of the water tower, either. More work than they’re worth? What was that supposed to mean? She felt her hackles rising.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” she said. “They’re really great. They’re the first people I go to whenever anything happens. They encouraged me to get a new job, to stop sticking around in dead-end relationships, to want more for myself. Before I even realized I needed to.”
“Sounds to me like they just wanted to change you.”
A tiny flame of indignation caught hold in her stomach and started to grow, hot and bright. Summer and Josie just wanted Delaney to be the best version of herself. What did this Mitchell character know about their friendship? Her scathing retort died on her lips though, when a petite server in a red silk robe, black silk pants and red slipper-shoes delivered their food.
“I ordered for us,” Mitchell said. “I hope it’s okay … you’d said you were hungry and I thought it’d be nice if the food came out sooner rather than later.”
“That was thoughtful,” Delaney said quietly.
They ate without speaking. She noticed how loudly Mitchell breathed through his nose when he chewed his food. She then noticed that he had quite a bit of nose hair. Actually, quite a bit of ear hair, too. By the time she’d gotten through the hot and spicy soup and a couple of bites of the cashew chicken, she was no longer hungry. She signaled for the bill, paid it and left Mitchell Evans, Esquire at the table with three full plates of food and an empty chair.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“I, Delaney Collins, hereby officially apologize for breaking several of the rules of The Dating Intervention. I hereby agree to abide by all rules and regulations, henceforth.”
Rowdy’s was crowded tonight. As always, people came out of the woodwork when the weather warmed up. The back door was open and the patio, strung in colored lights, was packed with young people holding beers and cigarettes. Something honky tonk played on the jukebox.
“Wow. That was not what I was expecting to hear from you this evening,” Josie said. “But I’m not sure we believe you, anyway. The last time we were here, you gave us a dramatic show of tears over stomping on our plants.”
“We’re sorry for spying on you, Dee,” Summer said. “We are. It was an invasion of your privacy.”
“Maybe a necessary one, but an invasion, nonetheless,” Josie said.
“It was an invasion of my privacy,” Delaney said. The apologies took the wind out of her sails, though, and she hung her head. “But you guys were right. I needed it. My first date with Mitchell was pretty good, really. But the next couple of times I saw him, I realized we had clicked that first time because he had so much in common with the old me. He doesn’t want kids. He doesn’t have or want friends. He told me you guys just wanted to change me.”
“You know we don’t, right?” Summer said, and Josie added, “We just want you to be really, really happy. And part of doing that is living up to your potential. Which you weren’t doing.”
“Yes,” Delaney said. “I totally get it.”
A few quiet moments followed. Delaney knew the girls had her best interests in mind, but she couldn’t quite push Mitchell’s words out of her mind. Maybe they did want to change her. Was it wrong that she was okay with being a professional bartender? Was she really okay with being a bartender? And not only a bartender but one who couldn’t cook?
No, she thought. She wasn’t okay with it. It was time for an evolution, a metamorphosis. It was time for Delaney Collins the worm—er, caterpillar—to turn into a butterfly.
***
Summer’s voice broke into Delaney’s thoughts. “Okay, now that that’s settled, I have some big news of my own. Drumroll, please!”
Delaney and Josie drummed their hands on the table until Summer held up a finger
and announced, “The Sweets have a gig! Our first paid gig!”
Josie and Delaney looked at each other and then back at Summer, each grabbing one of her hands.
“Really?” Delaney said, her excitement for Summer overshadowing the residual tension from the Red Lantern incident.
“That’s awesome news,” Josie said. “Spill the details.”
“So, it’s next weekend, actually. The band that was supposed to play at The Blue next Saturday canceled. Just this morning. So Miz Blue herself, Lily Blue, called me and asked if we could get it together in time to play. I was thinking, we can’t possibly, but of course, I told her to put us on the marquee. So The Sweets are playing at 8 p.m.”
“We are so going to be there,” Josie said. “Right, Dee?”
“Right,” Delaney said. “I may even throw my bra at you.”
“Perfect,” Summer said.
Benjamin, who’d once again been snuggled up with the guy in the black t-shirt at the corner table, strode over. “Did I hear you say you’re playing at Madame Blue’s next Saturday night?”
“Yes! Will you bring your new beau?”
“Of course I will! That sounds great, Summer! Congratulations. Another round, on the house.”
“Ooh, I’m so excited,” Summer said. “And now that that’s out of the way, let’s get back to biz, Dee.”
“Do we have to?”
***
A cheer went up at the bar. Delaney watched the shot-taking competition that was now in full swing. The contestants: a pretty blonde girl with a tiny waist and a lumberjack of a guy with tree stumps for legs. A crowd had gathered and two rows of empty shot glasses glistened from the bar. Delaney’d put her money on the girl. Girls who had the guts to enter a shot-taking contest usually won.
“We’ve come to a decision,” Josie said.
Delaney looked to the ceiling. “God help me,” she said.
“We think you’ll like it,” Summer said.
“I’m sure I will,” Delaney said.
“We want you to see Jake,” Summer said. Josie added, “Exclusively.”
“Okay,” Delaney said, nodding.
“Wait.” Josie put a hand on her arm. “We thought you’d be more excited. Why aren’t you more excited?”
“I am. It’s good news. I really like him.”
“But?” Summer said.
“There’s no ‘but.’”
“Oh, there is,” Josie said. “We can tell.”
“Are you sure it’s time for me to settle down?”
“You’re not settling down, D,” Josie said.
“You’re just seeing one guy, for now,” Summer added. “You can always open up the playing field again later. We’re not saying you have to marry him or anything.”
“We saw a lot of potential there,” Josie said. “We want you to focus your energy on this one.”
“Okay,” Delaney said.
At first, she couldn’t really put a finger on her vague sense of unease. Of course, the girls nailed it right away.
“We know this makes you uncomfortable,” Summer said.
“You’re not used to having all your dating eggs in one man basket,” Josie said.
“You’re afraid that if it ends, no matter how, you’ll be left without a backup,” Summer added.
“And we get it,” Josie said. “Drop that man basket and all your eggs are broken.” She looked at Delaney, serious. “You have to trust us here.”
“Yes. You have to put it out to the Universe that this is your guy. You’re into him. You’re enjoying him. And you don’t need anyone else.”
That was it, Delaney thought. They really did know her better than she knew herself. It was like they could hear her inner voice. She knew her backup plan wasn’t truly the best thing for herself. But it provided an element of protection. With a backup in place, it stung less if a guy ended things. She wouldn’t wind up alone.
“I hate when you guys are right,” she said. “But you are. So I’ll do it.”
“Okay. So you have to tell him,” Josie said. “You have to tell him you’re not seeing anybody else.”
Oh. Seeing him exclusively was one thing. Talking about it was a whole different matter.
“I do? What if he says he wants to keep dating other people?”
“I have a feeling he’s not going to say that,” Josie said. “But if he does, you move on. It’s simple.”
“Is it?”
“Yep,” Summer said. “Yep, it is. There are lots of other fish in the sea.”
At this, she gestured grandly around Rowdy’s. It was true. The place was packed with good-looking, Wrangler-clad men in scuffed boots and work shirts. Plenty to choose from. If Jake didn’t want to be exclusive, she could move on.
It was simple. Right?
“Right,” Delaney said.
Another round of cheers from the bar as the lumberjack slid off this chair and onto the floor. His friends did their best to scoop him up and he suddenly came to, slurring, “I’m all right, give me another.”
“See?” Josie said, sounding wicked. “Other fish in the sea.”
***
It was official: Delaney’s options for a job were now dwindling. She’d dutifully applied for every open local job on the Internet and had even snooped around town looking in the windows of the veterinary offices she found in the phone book.
Time skipped quickly by, as it had a habit of doing just when she wanted it to slow down. Her final two weeks at Rowdy’s were coming to an end. She knew she could probably stay on there until she found a job, but if she were being honest with herself (and that was the point of this whole exercise, wasn’t it?), she had to admit she didn’t want to drag it out any longer than necessary.
A few months ago, Delaney had spotted a large animal clinic on the outskirts of town. She’d been on her way to meet Josie, Summer and Summer’s kids for a hike on the granite boulders near Cottonwood Lake. It was a route she rarely traveled and the big building stood out right away: Lazy L Large Animal Clinic.
The clinic, a mud-colored stucco job with stone siding and real log pillars, sprawled low and wide in the middle of a huge gravel parking lot. Delaney could hear her car’s tires crunching over the gravel as she pulled in.
The solid wood door was heavy, and the spring breeze worked against her as she put all of her weight into opening it. The wind followed her inside, twirling a stack of papers off the receptionist’s counter. Delaney watched them flutter to the floor. The door whooshed closed, forcing another gust of wind to blow another stack of papers into the air. Delaney clenched her teeth to keep from making an exasperated sound.
“I need to invest in a good paperweight.”
Delaney looked up to see a wrinkled face smiling at her from behind the counter. The man’s shock of white hair stood straight up and his blue eyes stood out beneath bushy eyebrows. He came around the counter and squatted down to help Delaney pick up the papers. His knees cracked loudly as he straightened up again.
“I’m Doctor Baker,” he said.
“Delaney Collins.”
As she drove home a few minutes later, Madonna blasting from the speakers, she wondered if she should have introduced herself as Doctor Collins. She wondered if she should have gone in on a less windy day. She wondered if she should have worn her doctor’s coat. Any one of those things may have swayed Doctor Baker’s opinion in her favor.
But once she’d told him why she was there, he told her—with unerring kindness—he wasn’t hiring.
“You’ve got to get some experience, sweetheart,” he’d said after looking over her resume. “No one who is hiring will hire you unless you get some experience in an office.”
Close to tears, Delaney shrugged. “And therein lies the problem. I can’t get experience if nobody will hire me. Somebody’s going to have to take a chance on me, here.”
Doctor Baker’s expression softened then. “You’re right,” he’d said. “And I’d probably do that myself if I had e
nough work to keep us both busy. But the fact is, I’m getting old. I’ve been decreasing the size of my practice the past few years and I just can’t justify putting another body in here.”
“I understand,” Delaney muttered.
They shook hands again, and Doctor Baker made a show of holding down the papers on the counter while Delaney opened the door to leave.
Now, the flood gates wide open, Delaney bawled and sang along with “Papa Don’t Preach” as she sped home.
***
As Delaney prepared for her third official date with Jake Saturday evening, she marveled at how much she enjoyed having something to look forward to in terms of the manhunt, especially since the job hunt situation felt so dire. If she weren’t a slave to The Dating Intervention, she thought as she put on fresh mascara and lip gloss, she would invite Jake over for a pizza and a movie.
But pizza and a movie always included wine. And pizza, a movie and wine always led to the bedroom. Or the couch. Or the kitchen counter. Once, it had even led to the coat closet. Knowing this, her two best friends had banned her from inviting Jake Rhoades to anyplace within one hundred yards of her house.
So, she’d get out. Jake had asked her to meet him in front of the gallery where his furniture was on display. She arrived at five p.m., as instructed. He thundered up to the curb in an ancient Jeep.
He jumped out, jogged up to her and folded her in a long hug. She inhaled, drooled, wished for the living room couch. Or the coat closet.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.”
“I have a surprise for you.”
Within thirty seconds, she fell in love with the Jeep. It had everything: the old car smell, a good rumble and fresh air. She could feel the evening sun on her skin and the spring breeze in her hair.
“This is awesome,” she said as he drove them out of town and toward Pine Mountain.
She watched in the side view mirror as the houses fell away below them.
“Here we are,” Jake announced a few minutes later as they rolled to a stop at the Pine Mountain trailhead. “Hop out.”
