Page 20

Chapter 20

Moxie

T he parking lot at Fork and Spoon is completely full. After circling several times, I give up and pull into a neighboring lot, conveniently at the same time as Hannah.

“What on Earth? I should have made reservations.” We both stare at the line that extends out the restaurant door and well into the parking lot.

“They must have a special event going on, maybe trivia or something. We might have to switch to another restaurant.”

I pull out my phone to text the guys a change in plan and find a text from Wyatt already waiting for me.

Wyatt: I got here early to get a table. I’m in the middle of the room. You can’t miss it.

“Oh. Never mind, we’re good. Wyatt is already seated.”

“Excuse me!” A frantic young woman sprints past us while tying a serving apron around her waist.

“They must have called in more staff to handle the crowd,” I say. It’s unusual to see a packed house here ever, but especially on a Thursday night.

Hannah’s pace slows as she inspects the line. “See those two couples? They’re from Eagle’s Landing, my parent’s neighborhood.”

“That’s perfect. Now we don’t have to count on your parents seeing the posted pictures because we’ll have witnesses.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s a good thing.” Hannah doesn’t sound so sure as we approach the neighbors. “Hi everyone,” she says with cautious politeness.

An older woman with frizzy brown hair and glasses reaches over to shake Hannah’s hand. “Good to see you, dear.”

A blonde woman with the classic may-I-speak-to-the-manager haircut jumps in. “I was worried we were late, but you’re just getting here too.”

The whole group giggles.

“Is there trivia here tonight?” Hannah asks.

The foursome breaks out in laughter. “No, but I think there will be a show of sorts.”

I look to Hannah, but she looks as perplexed as I feel.

“We’re going to head in. I hope you have a good dinner,” Hannah says.

“I’m sure we will. See you inside.”

We take a couple of steps in silence, and as soon as we’re out of earshot, I ask, “Have you ever seen any of those movies where a whole town has been taken over by aliens?”

“It was weird, right?” she whispers in a rush, her hand clamping onto my arm.

Just as we approach the door, Hannah points out three more people from the neighborhood.

“Hi, Mr. and Ms. Wong, Ms. Hayworth.”

“Hello there Hannah. Is this your girlfriend?” Ms. Wong asks.

“No Lin, that’s Wyatt’s new girlfriend. We saw her at yoga.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s nice to see you two.”

Mr. Wong smiles at us both but looks like he’d rather be at home in sweatpants watching TV.

“Enjoy your dinner,” I say and pull Hannah inside before any further conversation with the folks from her parents’ neighborhood can give me more extraterrestrial vibes.

“There are so many people I know here,” she hisses. Hannah looks not exactly like she’s going to vomit but like her stomach is considering its options. She wasn’t thrilled about this date to begin with, despite having Wyatt and me as buffers. Now, with all these people she knows here, I’m afraid she might bolt.

“This is just a weird coincidence. Let’s get to the table and everything will be fine.

As if on cue, heads swivel and fingers point in our direction. A panicky feeling builds in my chest as people lean in to whisper to their companions all around us, and I swear I hear Hannah’s name whispered down the line.

We push past the crowd, and I don’t think I'm imagining that all eyes are on us. The hostess brightens when she sees us approach her stand.

“I went to high school with her. Hopefully she knows what’s going on,” Hannah mutters.

“Hannah! It’s so good to see you, and on your special night! I can take you to your table. We put the guests of honor right in the middle of the room so everyone can see!”

So everyone can see what? My stress level builds. I’d be catastrophizing right now if I had a clue what I should be panicking about.

“Stacia, what’s going on? Why are all these people here?”

The hostess shrugs. “I was kind of hoping you could tell me. Your assistant called about an hour ago saying you and Wyatt needed a table for four tonight and that she needed a table for six nearby.”

Hannah blinks. “You know I don’t have an assistant.”

Stacia goes on as if she hasn’t said anything. “I was like, cool, I hadn’t seen you or Wyatt in a few years. Your assistant then got very chatty and said that it was going to be a big night for you guys so could we set you up with a special table, preferably in the middle of the restaurant.”

“This is so embarrassing,” Hannah mumbles.

“Anyway, the next thing we knew, droves of people were showing up, most of them asking if you all were here yet.”

Hannah and I look at each other and Stacia covers her mouth.

“Oh no! Was this supposed to be a surprise? I would feel terrible if I ruined an engagement surprise.”

I stumble. “I’m out of here if I see a ring.”

“I don’t think that’s the case,” Hannah assures us.

“That’s a relief.” She claps a hand over her mouth. “Oh, I didn’t mean it that way, I’m sure there will be a ring in your futures. I just didn’t want to be the one who asked you. That didn’t come out right either, what I meant was—”

“The hole is already deep, Stacia. Stop digging it,” I say.

Hannah elbows me.

“Ouch,” I mutter, and rub my side. “What was that for? I was helping her.”

“Be nice,” Hannah chides.

Stacia’s face goes beet red. Hannah can elbow me all she wants, but Stacia was going to keep talking herself in circles until she passed out.

“Right. Sorry. Follow me.” Stacia escorts us into the room, and Wyatt wasn’t kidding about being dead center. I’ve only been to this restaurant a couple times, but if memory serves, the tables have even been rearranged for optimal viewing of ours.

Wyatt fidgets with his hair. He seems uncharacteristically nervous.

“You said the other day you would drop a hint that we’d be here tonight. You wouldn’t know anything about the mosh pit close to forming out front, would you?” I ask.

“About that. Turns out, subtlety isn't my strong suit. I mentioned something to one of my mom’s friends, and I think she made up flyers and activated the emergency phone trees,” Wyatt says.

“All this time I thought it was just your parents and my parents that were bonkers, but now I think there’s something in the water in Eagle’s Landing,” Hannah says to Wyatt.

“Sorry about all this,” he says to me.

“You know, I think I’m starting to embrace the unexpected.” I attempt more nonchalance than I feel as I wave at several tables peeking at us over their menus.

Stacia escorts a confused Quincy to our center-stage table. Quincy was a one-night stand who removed all his clothing and folded it into neat piles before approaching the bed, then proceeded to dive in with zero foreplay and lasted about thirty seconds before carefully putting his clothes back on, saying goodnight, and heading out the door. He was friendly and we hit it off at the bar, but his bedroom performance was anticlimactic. Hannah has no intention of going further than a good night kiss so I wasn’t worried about her being disappointed. For one dinner and no long-term commitment, Quincy seemed like a good choice.

“Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find anywhere to park.”

“No worries. It’s packed. This is Hannah, and my boyfriend Wyatt. Wyatt, Hannah, this is Quincy.” The word boyfriend bounces around like Pop Rocks in my mouth.

They all exchange greetings, and our server comes to take our drink order. Hannah, Wyatt, and I get our order placed quickly while Quincy plays a game of twenty questions about the wine list while our server keeps anxiously glancing at his other tables. They have a full house, apparently thanks to us, and he doesn’t have this kind of time to spend with one guy’s drink order. I can only imagine how long he’ll take with the food menu. This identity crisis of a restaurant’s menu is seventeen pages long, featuring an alarming amount of different cuisines. The kitchen setup must be absolute chaos. I’m about to take pity on the server and suggest he give us a minute when Quincy decides.

Hannah and Quincy are just starting to look comfortable talking to each other when a teenager wearing a manager’s nametag taps on a microphone.

“I want to thank everyone for joining us here at the Fork and Spoon. We are honored that you have chosen to spend your special evening with us.”

The restaurant is officially packed to the gills and it erupts in applause. The four of us awkwardly join in as a woman named Myra, whom Hannah explains in hurried whispers is the self-appointed reporter for the neighborhood, comes up to our table with her phone held out in front of her.

She speaks into her phone as if we’re exhibits in the museum. “First there were the Hatfields and the McCoys, and now there’s the MacGregors and the Nelsons. For years, the battles have waged on, from harmonicas tied to mufflers to shoveling snow onto porches. It all comes down to tonight, when the offspring come face-to-face. Can these two sweet kids bring harmony to Eagle’s Landing? Only time will tell. Sit back and enjoy the show.” Myra fiddles with her phone and turns her attention to us. “Hi kids! So nice to see you here.” She shakes hands with Quincy and Moxie.

“What’s going on?” Wyatt asks.

“You and Hannah are the talk of the neighborhood, so of course I need to report on it. Since it’s so popular, I thought I’d do a podcast. Won’t that be a hoot?” Myra says.

The giggle starts out slow. I try to stop it, but it quickly erupts into a fit of laughter. This is too much. My gut reaction was to run, but now I think I might need to join her podcast to document this absurd neighborhood’s antics.

Hannah eyes me with concern. In fact, they all do.

“Thanks Ms. Leibowitz. We’re going to get back to our dinner now,” Hannah says.

“Of course.” But instead of going back to her table, she slides over to Quincy. “I couldn’t help but notice you spent some time with the wine list. Are you a connoisseur?”

Quincy looks at Hannah as if for approval before he answers. “I enjoy a good wine, and it doesn’t hurt to show your interests on a first date.”

“Oh, right you are. Well, good luck, honey. I’ll leave you to it.” She backs away giving thumbs up to several other tables.

“This is a nightmare.” Wyatt holds his head in his hands.

Hannah sighs heavily. “Quincy, I apologize. This was supposed to be an average, everyday date, but it has turned into mating season at the zoo. If you want to reschedule this, I totally understand.”

“No!” I shout, surprising myself with my own vehemence. The absurdity of this evening has me cracking. We’ve come this far; it needs to work. “We can’t walk away now. It will go through the neighborhood like wildfire. Quincy, your dinner is on us. We’re going to do our best to ignore all these people. We can block this out.”

“Can we, though?” Hannah asks skeptically with a wince. It’s like we’ve swapped roles.

“I didn’t say it would be easy. We just need to act like we’re movie stars,” I say, grasping at straws.

“You’ve got a point. Celebrities go through this all the time.” Wyatt jumps to support me. Bless him. That earned him some brownie points I’m very much looking forward to granting later. I try to communicate this plan to him nonverbally with a covert, intense look and lick of my lips. His eyes widen, and while Quincy and Hannah debate the merits of various celebrities, he mouths, “Yeah?” I mouth back, “Later.”

Quincy pulls out his phone and taps away at it. Hannah meets my eyes, and I shrug. He passes the phone around. “I searched for fun ways celebrities have dealt with paparazzi.” When Hannah takes it, he grabs his napkin off the table, pokes eye holes into it, and throws it over his face like a mask. I have to give the guy credit for going with the flow and making the most out of a weird situation, even if he now looks like a bargain basement ghost.

“You might have to bail on that one when the food comes,” I say.

“Yeah, but I’m going to enjoy the weird looks I get until then,” he says.

“Dibs on hiding behind things that are obviously too small to hide behind,” Wyatt says.

“Oh! That lady looks like she’s taking a picture of us.” I nod across the room, pull my phone out, and aim it at her for strategy number three: the “camera duels” tactic. Wyatt holds up a salt-shaker and very seriously hides behind it.

Hannah giggles. “I like the Emma Stone and Andrew Garfield method.” She pulls out her ugly notebook and tears out a piece of paper. She writes down instructions to give attention to something more deserving and lists the local food bank and animal shelter.

It turns out Quincy’s wine choice is pretty good and we all share a second bottle. Wyatt gradually scoots closer to me, and my heart thumps away in my chest when he holds my hand under the table and runs a thumb over the palm.

By the time we get to dessert, half the restaurant has come up to say goodbye. I don’t know that Quincy will be looking for a second date with Hannah, but he certainly didn’t act like he was being held hostage.

“Quincy, I hope this evening wasn’t too much of a train wreck for you.” Hannah, bless her heart, is genuinely concerned about her date.

“It was unusual. Do these people follow you around everywhere you go?”

“Not usually, but I can’t say it’s out of the realm of possibilities.” Poor Hannah looks a little sad.

Quincy gives her a chaste hug and heads out. Hannah looks relieved.

“See, that wasn’t too bad for a first date,” I say.

“It was a disaster, but being famous was kind of fun.” Hannah giggles.

A woman grabs my arm as we make our way to the exit. “You and young Wyatt here make such a lovely couple.”

“Thanks?” I answer and continue pushing my way forward.

Another woman comes up to Hannah. “I know I took Ms. MacGregor’s side in this mess, but it’s nice to see you two getting along. I’m hosting the chili cook-off this year. I hope to see you and your family there.”

“Thank you, Ms. Sweeney,” Hannah says.

The three of us break free into the parking lot. It’s pouring rain, and our clothes are instantly drenched and plastered to our bodies.

“Holy shit, it worked,” Wyatt says.

“It actually worked!” Hannah squeals, and the three of us dance in the rain until I slow to a stop.

If it worked, my time is running out. My heart drops. If the feud is over, will he still spend time with me? Wyatt is my best shot at pulling myself out of my boring life and experiencing more, but I also don’t want to lose him. I put on a fake smile to dance with Wyatt and Hannah in the rain. These questions haunt me as I say goodnight to Wyatt, who has to work early in the morning, and while I towel off in my car. They haunt me all night while I stare at the ceiling above my bed in a fitful failure to sleep.