Page 37 of British Daddy to Go

Maggie

My mother stands beside me in front of my full-length mirror. My pale blue dress is the most conservative thing I own. The Peter Pan neckline goes up so high, it feels like it’s choking me.

Mom smooths down the skirt. “You look beautiful, Maggie. Randall won’t know what hit him!”

I doubt uptight Randall will care one way or another about the dress I’m wearing. Considering the dress covers my cleavage and falls to my shins, I don’t think it’ll be knocking him off his feet. Well, maybe the nun look is what gets Randall going.

“Thanks, Mom,” I say carefully. Jenna and I had made a plan for the evening: I remain as passive as possible with my parents and regale them with the horrors of my date so that they’ll let me off the hook with Randall. It’s foolproof.

“Come downstairs. Randall is waiting.”

“Do you know where we’re going?”

Mom laughs. “Nowhere, honey. Randall is joining us for dinner.”

Okay, so maybe our plan isn’t foolproof. I hadn’t banked on my parents being crazy enough to crash our date.

“Let me just use the bathroom, and I’ll be down.”

My mom laughs and touches my hair. “Add some hairspray to the fly aways, too, Maggie. You look like a concubine.”

Only my mother would call me a prostitute while I’m wearing full body armor. “Of course, Mom.”

“Don’t be long!” she calls from the top of the stairs. I lock myself in the bathroom with my phone and dial Jenna’s number.

“Hello?” she answers. “Already looking for an escape from your date?”

“My date hasn’t started yet,” I whisper. “He’s joining us for dinner. That’s the date.”

Jenna gasps. “No!”

“Yes! My parents are going to be there. What do I do?”

“This could be good. They’ll witness firsthand how incompatible you are. This way, Randall can’t give an alternate review of the date.”

I sit down on the closed toilet lid. “Okay. You’re right. This isn’t the end of the world.”

“Deep breaths, Maggie. You’ll be fine. What are you wearing?”

I groan. “You know that blue dress my parents gave me for Christmas that I hid in the back of my closet? Mom found it and insisted I wear it. She swears Randall will go weak in the knees when he sees me.”

Jenna can’t help the laughter that follows, and I almost break down with her. Our apartment walls are thin, though, and my parents will come to investigate if they hear me laughing.

“I should go. Randall is waiting, and Mom thinks my frizzy hair makes me look like a call girl.”

“Has your mother ever seen a call girl?”

“Only in movies,” I assure her. “She’s not quite clear on the concept.”

Jenna laughs again. “Good luck, Maggie. I want to hear all about it tonight!”

“I’ll text you. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

We hang up, and I flush the empty toilet and spray half a can of hairspray to please my mother. With one last look in the mirror, I scowl and join the party downstairs.

Randall waits for me at the foot of the steps. His acne-filled face lights up when he sees me. “Maggie, you look beautiful.”