Page 7

Part C

“Unintended”

April

“Did the Brooks family send back their signed agreement?” Nate asks me at work on Monday morning.

“Yep. I put it in their folder,” I reply, turning in my chair to face him. “They said they would pay the planning fee invoice by today.”

“Great. That should be a fun one for you and they’re really nice people.”

I nod. “I’m looking forward to working with them. I haven’t worked on a National Parks trip in a while, so it will be good to do one of those again.”

Nate’s travel agency is called Nerds on a Plane, and we specialize in set-jetting—travel to locations where shows and movies were filmed—literary trips, history trips, nature trips, and more. Basically, whatever someone is nerdy about, we can build a trip for them. There are the obvious ones like going to New Zealand to see Hobbiton or Los Angeles to see… everything, but the ones I love are the more complex ones where the people don’t know quite how we’re going to make it work, then we do. Like the time we planned a three-week, self-drive trip across Europe for a couple to do a cheese and chocolate Nerdventure.

“You’re still working on the London trip for the Gazaks, right?”

“Uh huh. Should be finished with that one tomorrow. I’m really liking how it’s coming together. I found some cool activities for them I think they’re really going to like.” Nate pulls up the pages on his computer to show me. “Like this day trip to Highclere Castle. They’re gonna be so excited about that. Oh, and Buckingham Palace is going to be open during their dates, so I’ve already put that on hold for them.”

“They are going to be so excited!” I’ve met this couple, and they have wanted nothing more than to do both of those things, along with the regular touristy things in London.

We both turn back to our computers and get back to working on our respective tasks: Nate on the London trip and me on answering a few emails that came in from prospective clients through our website.

“Oh, Clare, did Isaac tell you we decided on a song for you to sing for the wedding?”

I turn in my chair. “No, but I’m intrigued. Last I heard, you were still trying to convince him that ‘Black or White’ was a good idea, even though I said there was no way I’d be able to do MJ justice.”

Nate rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. We abandoned Mr. Jackson. Then Isaac suggested ‘Love on Top’ by Beyoncé, and even though I love the song, it’s just not what I envisioned for our first dance.”

“You’re at least getting warmer with something I could actually sing, though,” I reply.

“Exactly. To that end,” he says, eyes sparkling, “we thought something more classic would work best for your more classic voice. How would you feel about ‘Only You’ by the Platters?”

“That’s perfect! I’m just annoyed I didn’t think of it myself.” I’m thrilled because I know I can do that song justice and it shouldn’t require a ton of practicing since I’ve known it all my life. “I’m so glad you found something you both love and will be happy with.”

Nate sighs. “Me too. Let’s hope the rest of the wedding planning goes this smoothly.”

We go back to our respective tasks for a while, and Nate brings me a cup of tea a little while later when he gets himself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, did you ever find out how Abby’s coffee date went with her parents on Friday?” Nate asks, handing me the mug.

I shake my head. “She didn’t tell me, and I didn’t think to ask.” I feel awful. I was so caught up in my whole emotional rollercoaster of deciding whether or not to stay with Suz that I didn’t think to ask her the entire weekend.

“It’s understandable. You had a lot going on yourself.”

“Yes, but I should have checked in since I know it’s always such a kerfuffle every time they come into town. I know she would have been there for me if my biopsy had turned out to be cancer. I’m definitely going to ask her about it tonight since we’re having dinner.”

* * *

When I get to Abby’s that evening, she’s curled up in her favorite armchair in the living room reading a paperback. Not wanting to disturb her—because I absolutely hate it when someone disturbs me when I’m reading a good book—I head to my room to drop off my things.

Abby’s guestroom, or I guess I should call it my room, looks like a tornado went through it since I haven’t had a chance to fully unpack yet. My suitcases are open across the back wall and the duffel bags have clothes spilling out of them. Shelley is currently napping on top of one of said duffels, so I know my formerly clean clothes will be covered in grey cat hair. Not like everything I own isn’t covered in her fur, but these will be particularly well coated.

I start putting things away since I have some time now, and I can’t live with this mess. Suz might have been the ridiculously neat one of the two of us—to the point of having all our clothes in the walk-in closet organized not only by type, but also in order of the rainbow spectrum—but I at least like to have my things put away.

An hour later, I’m just putting the last empty suitcase in the closet when Abby knocks on my open door. “Hey. Just wanted to see if you had thought about where you wanted to get dinner.”

I shake my head. “Nope. But I’m starving after getting all my clothes put away.”

She takes in the clean floors and the neatly hung clothes. “Nice work! I would have helped you with that, you know.”

“I know, but you looked pretty engrossed in your book, so I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She smiles. “I appreciate that.”

“I hadn’t really thought much about where to eat. Did you have anything in mind?” I ask.

Her eyes drift up to the ceiling as she contemplates. Then she grins as she says, “I could totally go for Mexican food.”

I laugh. “I mean, I’m not going to say no to that.” Abby and I both love Mexican food. Any time. Anywhere. Chips and queso, bean burritos, cheese enchiladas, tostadas, rice, the list goes on. “Let me just check Shelley’s litter box, then we can go.”

“Sounds good. I’ll grab my jacket.”

Once we reconvene in the living room, we grab our purses and head out for our favorite Mexican place: Fiesta Mexicana. Although it’s a little farther away from Abby’s apartment, it’s the place we used to go back when we were in college at North Carolina State University. Their décor hasn’t changed much in twenty years, though the dated brown booths have gotten a couple new coats of paint. The murals on the walls of Mexico are just as kitschy as ever, but they have a great menu, and the service is excellent.

“Hola, amigas!” Miguel, our favorite server, greets us as we arrive. He puts his fist out and we each bump it in turn. You know you’re regulars when the staff greets you with fist bumps. “Right this way.”

We sit down in our booth and set the menus down because we’ve long since memorized them. Chips and salsa are delivered by the owner’s niece, Daniela, and we dive right in. Shortly after, Miguel brings our iced teas—he doesn’t even have to ask anymore—and he takes our orders.

“I’ll have the vegetarian combo with a bean tostada, cheese enchilada and rice, please,” I say.

“And for you, amiga?”

“I think I’ll do the enchiladas rancheras, please. But, can I get one chicken, one bean and one cheese, please?” Abby asks.

Miguel nods as he scribbles on his order pad. “Of course.” He takes our menus and runs off to place our orders.

I take a sip of my tea. “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how did your coffee date go with your parents the other day? Is everything okay?”

Abby nods as she finishes chewing the chip she just ate, then takes a sip of her own drink. “Yeah, they were just in town and wanted to have some ‘face time.’ It wasn’t any big deal, this time. The place was actually so busy and loud that we could hardly talk at all. So, a lot less pressuring me about my job and my love life. But, they did at least try to tell me all about some friend’s kid who is a gazillionaire and married with five kids. As if I want any kids, let alone five.” She rolls her eyes.

“You know I’m with you there.” Neither Abby nor I have ever really wanted kids. I have thought at times it would be nice to have one, maybe. To know what it feels like to bring new life into the world and to get to mold and shape the next generation. But then I see people with their unruly kids in stores and that feeling quickly melts away. I wouldn’t mind being an aunt, though, if I was with someone who had nieces or nephews. “Any word on when they’re coming into town next time?”

She shakes her head, dipping another chip in the salsa. “Nothing yet. But you know them, they love to tell me the day before they’re coming to town.”

Abby’s lawyer parents technically “live” in Raleigh, but they spend most of their time at their vacation home in Florida. They pop back and forth as they please and drive their daughter nuts in the process.

“That is their MO.” I also eat another chip with the fresh salsa and savor the salty acidity. “At least they didn’t try to pressure you into any more blind dates.”

“Well, not exactly,” she says, taking a sip of her tea.

“Oh yeah? Who did they try to set you up with this time?” I ask, a little concerned about her going on yet another blind date. Not only do her parents have horrendous taste, but I’m also worried that Abby might finally like one of them herself, then where would that leave me? You literally just broke up with your girlfriend and you haven’t even mentioned to Abby that you like her.

“Some woman named Lily. Apparently, she went to NC State, then transferred to Wake Forest for law school.” Abby rolls her eyes. “God, I don’t know if I can take another stuffy lawyer—male or female—with questionable morals and terrible taste in clothes. I know they’re hoping they’ll rub off on me to get me to go into law, but c’mon. Can’t they find anyone…you know…cute and an environmentalist or something?”

I laugh. “Would your parents know what an environmentalist is?”

“Probably not,” she agrees. “Ugh. Just because I’m in my early forties and not married doesn’t mean I’m an old maid or something. This isn’t the 1800s!”

“I’ll drink to that.” We clink our cups. “So, are you going to go…on the date?”

“Yeah, I texted her and she’s got tickets to some soccer game next week. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do less than go on a blind date with a lawyer to watch sports, but at least it’s women’s soccer, so maybe there will be cute girls on the field.” She shrugs.

“That’s the spirit,” I reply. At least this Lily woman doesn’t have a clue what Abby likes, so that’s one strike against her.

“Speaking of relationships, how are you doing? You know, with all the Suz stuff,” she asks, as she takes a bite of her own chip.

Swallowing, I try to compose my thoughts. “I’m doing okay, I guess. I dunno. It’s strange. On the one hand, I feel like I should be wallowing and crying all the time because I just ended an eight-year relationship last week, but on the other, I think I know in my heart that we weren’t really in a ‘relationship’ at all.” I examine the faux-wood table and ask quietly, “Was it all in my head?”

“Pardon?”

I look back up at Abby, my eyes brimming with tears. “Was it all in my head? Was my relationship with Suz all in my head?”

“No.” Abby puts her hand on mine, and I feel a warmth there that’s more than just her body heat. “It wasn’t all in your head, and Suz was a bitch—I know you hate that word, but it’s the best word for her—for stringing you along all that time. She wanted a roommate, pure and simple, but even I thought she wanted more from you.”

“But you knew before I did.”

She shrugs. “We see what we want to, sometimes.” I think about this and wonder if she means that I saw what I wanted to or that she, Abby, saw what she wanted to. In that, she wanted Suz to not be in a real relationship with me. And, if that’s the case, what does that mean?

I look at Abby’s hand on mine and think about how comfortable it is. How Suz and I never held hands across a table like this. How much I want someone to want to hold my hand like this and mean it. Abby’s blue eyes are warm as she looks at me and I wonder if she could be feeling this too. However, she suddenly averts her gaze and takes her hand back, picking up another chip and dunking it in the salsa.

“So, there was another reason I wanted us to have dinner tonight,” Abby says, changing the subject.

I raise my eyebrows. “And that is?”

“I was thinking we should plan a surprise engagement party for Nate and Isaac. What do you think?”

I feel a hint of disappointment and wonder what I was expecting. Abby doesn’t know about these feelings I’ve been having. She doesn’t have a clue about the latest turn the dreams have taken. I mean, it’s possible she could feel something for me, but it’s probable that she will never consider us as more than just friends, especially since she’s continuing to go on blind dates set up by her parents.

I paste on a smile as I reply, “Sure, I’d love to.”