Page 16

Chapter 16

Wyatt

I pull into my parents’ neighborhood armed with muffins from Penny’s. I wave to folks I’ve known since I was a kid. Thankfully, they either have short memories or hold no grudge against me for possibly being involved in some childish law-bending activities. Everyone, that is, except for Hannah’s parents, who live right next to Mom and Dad.

They are bent in their yard, surrounded by an assortment of gardening equipment. A few feet away, on the other side of a half-built fence, are some blindingly-bright tiger-striped spandex pants that make my mom impossible to miss. She surveys a complex grid of string that has taken over the back yard.

The fence is a saga in and of itself. Years ago when the feud was raging, Dad and Mr. Nelson got into an argument over who-knows-what that it ended with an epic Easy Cheese versus Whipped Cream battle.

Mr. Nelson started building the fence, and Dad stormed out with a pie tin full of whipped cream aimed at Mr. Nelson, who immediately ran inside and armed himself with a can of Easy Cheese. He charged the fence while shooting a line of cheese at Dad. As a result, Dad slipped, staining his new pair of sneakers and pieing himself, and Mr. Nelson laughed so damn hard he tweaked his back. Dad gave him a ride to the doctor, and for a brief period of time, there was a lull in their arguments. The partially-built fence remained.

They could have taken it down or finished it, but then they wouldn’t have something to argue about with the homeowners association. I’m not about to encourage them to take care of it, either, because they could use the common enemy to keep them off each other’s backs.

“Hey, Mr. and Dr. Nelson. Good to see you,” I call out as I cut across the grass toward my mom. Ever since the breakup with Hannah they usually ignore me, so I don’t really expect an answer.

Dr. Nelson stops digging in the dirt and stands up with her arms folded. “From what I saw at yoga, it looks like you have yourself a new girlfriend.”

I stop in my tracks. Either hell has frozen over or maybe we’ve made some progress. Last I'd heard, Dr. Nelson was still threatening to move in with her panicked daughter. “Yes, Ma’am. Her name is Moxie, and she’s friends with Hannah. It’s still new, but she’s nice.” Damn, I should have talked to Hannah about this possibility. Being the queen of contingency plans, she would have known the best way to handle it.

“How nice for you,” Dr. Nelson says without sounding happy for me at all. On second thought, maybe we only stoked the fires of hell.

“Marge, let’s just drop this.” Mr. Nelson prefers a cold war to active aggression. Maybe he’s worried he’ll end up with another back injury.

I take the hint and say my goodbyes before it gets ugly.

I lean over to give my mom a one-armed hug. “It looks like things are progressing with the hot tub.”

“You were supposed to help talk him out of this.”

“I tried, but like you said, I think he was hot-tub-or-die from day one.” She was kidding herself if she thought I wasn’t pro-hot-tub from the beginning, too.

Mom rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you tried really hard.” She puts air quotes around “really hard.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Mom, it’s a hot tub. It’ll be awesome.”

“Well, thanks to all your help, your dad and a couple of his buddies are at the pool store checking out options right now. As you can see, he spent most of the morning measuring out his elaborate plans for his backyard oasis.” Mom shakes her head.

“It won’t be so bad. Maybe you can change your parties from Stitch ‘N Bitch to bubble and whine. Think of having all your friends in the tub, soaking in that mountain view while you discuss your favorite books or the latest gossip about Ms. Kowalski’s nephew. Your friends will love it.”

She eyes me and studies the backyard. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound so bad at all. How’s that girlfriend of yours?”

Mom grabs my arm and pulls me to the patio table.

“She’s great. I like her a lot, but we’ve only gone out a couple times, so don’t get your hopes up too high.” There’s also the slight problem of her wanting to avoid feelings and deciding the dates aren’t real, but that’s not something I'll be sharing. I’m still clinging to the hope that she’ll change her mind.

Mom leans closer and whispers, “It was nice that you came to yoga so Marge could see that you’ve moved on. It’s been… what, five years since you and Hannah dated?”

I shake my head. “It’s been like ten years Mom, more than enough time for all of you to move on because Hannah and I have. We keep trying to tell you guys that it was no big deal. We were better as friends than dating. It just happened at a bad time that summer after my shoulder.”

“I always liked Hannah, but I think she should have stayed with you. You were in a dark place after all of that.” My mom’s body droops as she remembers.

I guess I didn’t really think about how difficult that time must have been for her and my dad.

“No, she shouldn’t have. I wasn’t in any shape to be dating anyone then. I needed to figure out my life.” I was a miserable person to be around, but Hannah called or visited every week just to check on me, even when I told her to get out. Then sophomore year I met Noah, and together he and Hannah reminded me there was more to life than baseball. Once Hannah saw I was going to be okay, she moved on.

“But it was a challenge for so long,” Mom pleads.

“None of that was Hannah’s fault, and if things hadn’t worked out the way they did, I’d never have opened up Shred and Tread with Noah. Please don’t blame Hannah for any of that. You couldn’t ask for a sweeter person.”

Mom sighs, “I know she is. It was a bad time, but we’re all past that now, aren’t we?” She gives me a hug.

“Yes we are, but the feud is still alive and well. Don’t you remember when you guys were good friends with the Nelsons? All those happy hours, weekend barbecues, and helping each other out? They drove me to a fair amount of baseball practices when I was little. Wouldn’t it be nice to get back to that?” I plead with her.

“It isn’t just me, honey. They refuse to give in. They think you broke Hannah’s heart, but it's beyond that. They’re always annoyed with every little thing we do. I know this hot tub is going to be a problem for them.”

“Hannah is fine. You saw her at yoga. She, Moxie, and I all get along. I think you should try to mend the fences, so to speak. Maybe have them over as soon as the hot tub is up and running.”

My suggestion is met with silence. I shoot her a pleading look and she scowls.

“What do you care anyway?”

“Moxie and Hannah are friends. You wouldn’t want a fight with the Nelsons to cause me to lose my girlfriend, would you? What if she’s the one?” The manipulation of it turns my gut sour. I can’t lose her when I don’t even have her. Though she did open up yesterday and even kissed me out of the blue. Maybe my hope isn’t entirely unfounded.

“Promise me you’ll think about it and talk it over with Dad. I’ve got to get going.”

Mom hugs me goodbye and I grasp at a growing belief that she might try to talk to Marge.

On my way out I hear arguing from next door.

“I thought Hannah told you she was fine with Wyatt dating someone else.” Mr. Nelson sounds exasperated.

“Well of course she said she was fine; she doesn’t want us feeling sorry for her. But they were at the class looking so happy together. You should have seen them. Hannah was chatting with Moxie, but you know how friendly she tries to be. I don’t believe it. I’m worried she was crying inside. Wyatt and this girl were the picture of young love.” Dr. Nelson’s anger comes in clear over the fence.

I thought I had been playing it cool with Moxie, but even Dr. Nelson could tell that I’m falling for her. I can only hope I'm less transparent to Moxie.

I climb in my car and call Hannah.

“Hi, Wyatt. What’s up?”

“Hey, I was just at the old homestead. I saw your parents, and I don’t think goat yoga helped calm the situation.”

“Donkey donuts. My mom left me a message earlier, but I was at work. She wants to know the scoop about you and Moxie.”

“I think the whole thing just made her mad, like I went there to show off that I had a girlfriend.”

“I’m calling Moxie. I think we need an emergency strategy session. Why don’t you get some pizza and come over to my place in an hour? We need to plan.”

“You’re just excited for a chance to use your whiteboard.”

“Maybe, but you have to admit this is the perfect situation.”

“I guess, but I’m bringing some beer. That’s the only way I can face all your graphs and flowcharts.” Between her and Noah, everyone in my life is pushing spreadsheets on me. It’s like high school algebra all over again.

“Trust me, it will help. Hey, as long as I have you on the line, what do you think of Moxie?” Hannah asks.

Now I feel like I need one of her charts to get me through this conversation. One wrong comment and I’ll be in poison ivy. I want to thank Hannah for the introduction, but Moxie’s mixed signals have my head spinning.

“I like her.”

“Is that it? You like her with no enthusiasm at all? Are you trying to tell me you don’t think she’s the best thing since ice cream-covered brownies?”

I sigh heavily. “I’ve been having fun with her, but she’s made a point of this being just for the pact. It’s complicated. My mom flipped out after the casino party. You can imagine her in full mama bear mode. It was over the top, and Moxie saw it all. I know she wanted to hightail it out of there and never look back. I’m on very thin ice with her. I appreciate you introducing us, but I feel like I fell into this pretend affair when what I want is something real.”

I hear a gasp from my phone. “Oh, Wyatt.”

“Noah suggested I take it slow, so I’m trying to change up my usual game, but there’s no third base coach to help me on this one. Sometimes I think she’s coming around, and others I think she’s going to bolt at any minute.”

A high-pitched squeal comes through my phone so loud I’m surprised it doesn’t blow the speaker.

“I knew it! I’m a master matchmaker. I just knew you would like her. This is fantastic! You have a coach. It’s me!”

“Chill. You can’t tell Moxie this or she’ll run. You have to act like we’re all just friends and that’s it. We are just friends. Didn’t you hear what I said? She wants this to be fake.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t say a thing about it. Go get a pizza and get your love-struck butt over here. I’ll get Moxie here and we’ll come up with a master plan to get our parents together before your wedding.”

“Hannah!”

Her laughter echoes in the background before she hangs up.

I run my hand through my hair. I should not have admitted that. Hannah can’t play poker to save her life.

* * *

I shut Hannah’s front gate behind me, a pizza balanced in one arm.

"Wyatt’s here!" Hannah says while holding the door open. She throws me an exaggerated wink.

“Anyone care to fill me in on why we’re here?” Moxie asks, coolly leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Hannah didn’t tell you?” I ask.

“She texted me SOS and politely suggested I bring a dessert.”

“Did you?” I ask.

“She brought brownies and ice cream!” Hannah takes the pizza from me and sets it on the counter next to a stack of red plates and cloth napkins with hearts on them. “Wyatt, why don’t you fill her in while I turn on some music.”

My eyes roll back in my head as I ponder how Hannah got out all her Valentine decor in the hour since I talked to her on the phone. She’s amazingly productive but not the least bit subtle.

“I’m all ears,” Moxie says.

“It sounds like our attempt to show that you two are dating wasn’t received as well as we’d hoped,” Hannah calls from across the room.

“I thought I was telling the story.” I fold my arms across my chest.

“Oops.” Hannah mimes zipping her mouth shut, then busies herself with lighting a candle and carefully placing it on the table.

I glare at her.

She mouths, “What?”

I quickly recap my visit with Mom and my run-in with the Nelsons while we each grab our plates and move to the romantic kitchen table.

“Long story short, they’re not about to let this thing die, and we may have only stoked the flames.”

“Now that everyone is up to speed, let’s press pause while we eat so I don’t get my markers greasy,” Hannah says.

“We wouldn’t want that,” Moxie teases.

We talk about TV and books and laugh about the goats while we eat. When we’re all finished, Hannah disappears to her room.

“Have you been here before?” I ask Moxie.

“Nope, first time. What is she getting?”

“You’ll see.”

Moxie raises her eyebrows at me, but I don’t want to ruin the surprise of just how extra her new friend is. I’ve been experiencing the phenomenon of Hannah Nelson for a long time.

There’s the sound of wheels rolling on hardwood as Hannah guides a classroom-sized whiteboard into the room.

“Wow. That’s... a lot,” Moxie says.

“I know. Isn’t she a beaut?” Hannah’s voice is full of awe.

Moxie meets my eyes, and I shrug. She clears her throat. “Yep, ‘she’ is sure something.”

Hannah uncaps a purple marker and writes “Problem” and “Solutions” in big bold letters across the top of the board.

“Okay, what’s our problem?” Hannah asks, her marker poised to write.

“Our parents are worse than kindergartners and won’t get along,” I say.

She points at me with the marker, really getting into her teacher role. “Excellent, Wyatt. But that’s been going on for years. What is the current problem. Moxie?”

Moxie straightens in her seat, and I chuckle. “They aren’t convinced that either of you is happy, and they think you both screwed each other over.”

“Yes.” Hannah writes, “Not sold on happiness” on the board, and Moxie shoots me a look that says, Ha look at me! I'm the teacher’s pet. Under normal circumstances this might strike a sore spot for me, but she’s cute taking Hannah’s absurdity so seriously and getting competitive about it.

“How do we fix it?” Hannah asks.

“We could keep going on dates in front of them,” Moxie suggests, her eyebrows dance as she grins at me.

I’m all for this, because I want to win Moxie over even more than I want to convince our parents, but for the sake of playing devil’s advocate, I add, “But if what I heard today is any sign, that could make things worse”.

“An adverse effect is likely, but we’re in brainstorm mode, so there are no wrong answers. I’ll add it to the list.” Hannah writes this on the board.

“I changed my mind. I’m getting another slice. Does anyone else want one?” Moxie asks.

“Sure, thanks,” I say.

Hannah taps the back of the marker on her chin. “If they’re not taking you two seriously enough, we could do something to show you’re really serious.”

If she’s going where I think she is, this is very dangerous territory. I glance at Moxie, who doesn’t seem to have heard in her single-minded focus on more pizza. I don’t blame her. I find cheese distracting too.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well, you could temporarily move in together,” Hannah says.

There’s a strangled sound behind me, followed by the plop of a pizza slice hitting the floor and sauce splattering everywhere. Moxie is frozen like a deer in the headlights.

Seeing her panic, Hannah backtracks. “Or not! We’re just brainstorming. You have to have terrible ideas to get to the good ones.”

I frown as I pick up the downed slice and wipe up the sauce from the floor. I don’t know if I'd call moving in with me a terrible idea. I can’t be that bad.

Moxie jumpstarts herself, having forgotten about our slices as she sits back down. “Yeah, let’s keep thinking.”

I grab myself a slice and pass one to Moxie, who stares at it bewildered. I think we’ve broken Moxie’s brain.

“The funny thing with them is that none of this fighting actually stops them from spending time together. They go to neighborhood parties, Stitch ‘N Bitch, and more just to glare at each other across the room,” Hannah says.

Frustration swells within me. Hannah may have just scared off the ever-skittish Moxie, and we’re no closer to resolving this. I throw my hands in the air. “Here’s an idea. The three of us can go over there and tell them we’re all cool with each other and that they don’t have to stick their noses in our business anymore.”

“You know they won’t listen. We’ve been saying that since we were in college. They don’t believe it.”

The three of us sit in silence. The only sounds in the room are occasional chewing, and the quiet hum of Hannah’s air conditioner.

"There is one other solution,” Moxie says tentatively.

Hannah and I both turn to her, Hannah’s marker at the ready.

“The pact,” Moxie says.

Hannah writes the words down, but hesitates on the ‘t.’ “Wait, what about the pact?”

“Our pact was to date each other’s exes, so we need to get you a date.” Moxie folds her arms and leans back in her chair as if she's just explained the means to bringing about world peace—or at least neighborhood peace. She may be confident in this solution, but I see lots of holes.

“I wasn’t there when you made the pact, but Hannah’s been dating since we split, so I don’t know if having her go on a date will do it.” I look to Hannah and she nods.

“I agree. Besides, I told you that I’m not quite ready to get back out there yet. There must be another option.”

“You said you haven’t gone on many second dates, so to them, it looks like you’re still broken-hearted while Wyatt is happily moving on.” Moxie persists.

“Okay, harsh,” Hannah says.

“Sorry. I don’t think that. But in their minds that’s what’s happening. But if we all went out together someplace public near the neighborhood, they wouldn’t be able to deny it anymore. If what you tell me about the gossip channels are true, they’ll definitely hear about it.”

I don’t particularly love the idea of meeting someone else Moxie’s been with, but I push that insecure thinking out of my mind. She sees me around Hannah all the time without it bothering her.

“That might work. I’m sure I could subtly plant a seed within the neighborhood to make sure word gets back to both our parents,” I say.

“I’m not ready for something serious, though. I’m a mess,” Hannah protests.

“Neither am I, but here we are,” Moxie says, and I'd be lying if I said that didn’t sting a little. “I can set you up with someone horrible so you don’t have to feel bad if he’s not the one. You just have to smile through an evening.”

“I don’t know that we need to jump straight to horrible,” Hannah says.

Moxie waves a hand. “Middle of the road then.”

Hannah groans. “Fine.”

“So we all agree?” I ask.

“We do. I’ll set it up for like a week from now. In the meantime, I didn’t see any more rain in the forecast.” Moxie turns toward me and it feels like Hannah, her board, and all of her planning fall away.

“Blue skies for days.” I grin. I finally get to take her out to the mountains, and I know just the place. Two more planned times to spend time with Moxie. Two more chances to win her heart.

"Adventure tomorrow? I believe you promised a date I’ll never forget,” she teases. Behind her, Hannah gives me a thumbs up.

“It’s a date,” I say.

Moxie bites her lip but doesn’t argue. Hope lives to see another day.