I’m sorry, I’ll need one more piece of information. Is this a fancy dress party, a casual jeans and t-shirt thing, or an ugly sweater and a Christmas top hat sort of occasion?
I started laughing so hard that the rest of the staff shot funny looks to my chair in the corner. I typed out my response carefully, then proofread it twice. My hand was actually shaking as I hit send.
Hi. I’m sorry, it’s been a really busy day. The party starts around eight, but I always go over a bit early to help Jenny set up, so I’ll meet you there. It’s at 63 Jameson Street, Apt. 1752. Buzz code 5217. It’s completely casual, and I think the food is taken care of. Maybe a bottle of wine would be nice. See you tomorrow night.
I couldn’t think of a way to make the message seem more cheerful without silly smiley faces. I hope it wasn’t stiff. But I got his reply just seconds later.
Thanks so much, Sharolyn. Looking forward to it.
Can’t wait to see you. xoxo
My hand flew to my mouth to suppress a little girlish chirp. It was so weird that he was acting like we were already a couple. Was that normal? I’d never been in a real relationship before, so all I knew was what my friends told me. Ffrom the sounds of it, a lot of guys string them along for weeks before they figure out their feelings. Nolan seemed to be all in, right now. It was bizarre.
I finished my shift and raced home, digging through every single thing in my closet to find something casual but cute. Then I realized I had absolutely no idea what kind of woman he was used to dating.
I ran a search online, and there were a few photos of him with downright scary looking women. They looked made up and styled within an inch of their lives, and obviously hadn’t eaten a cupcake during this decade. One of them was so thin she looked dehydrated. Her hair was a strange cinnamon-orange, as if she’d picked the most outrageous color to try to make a statement. If these were the sorts of glamorous mannequins he was used to, he was in for a surprise with me.
But that was okay. I just had to make it through one night. Then my friends would see that I am trying to date, and he would see that I was not right for him. Also, maybe I could just consider this practice. A learning experience. All of those self-help books insist that we have to try new things and push ourselves out of our comfort zone. This was my chance.
***
As soon as I burst in Jenny’s door, setting down the shopping bags full of cookies and cupcakes and hugging the daylights out of her, I felt better. She was always the cool girl, with lots of boyfriends. I was a bit jealous of how casual she was with guys. But she’d tell me what to do.
“Oh my God, what’s up?” she asked immediately. Sometimes it was annoying that she could read me as easily as a large print book. She stepped back, looking at me very carefully. “You’re dressed up. What’s going on?”
“Don’t freak out,” I started. “I have a date coming by later, and–”
The strange squealing noise she made was nearly deafening, clearly stating that she was happy for me. Then she snapped into analysis mode, staring at me from head to toe. “Hair down, perfect soft makeup, cute dress that’s not too sexy but makes your boobs look amazing. That dark blue looks nice on you. This is a great look for a date.” She grinned. “I’ve taught you well, apparently. Who is he?”
“Nolan Briggs. He’s a former hockey player who has become sort of a corporate motivational speaker or something. I met him at work.”
“How old is he?” she asked, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow suspiciously.
I couldn’t help giggling. “Early thirties, I think.”
“Why didn’t he pick you up?”
“I told him to meet me here. I wanted to help you set up.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Girl, you have to let men be men. They want to pick you up, show off their car, and walk in the door with you on their arm.”
“But I have work to do, obviously,” I said, looking around her living room. “You’ve hardly decorated at all.”
“I don’t have space,” she said. “But if you want, you could take my new red blanket off the bed and throw it over the back of the couch.”
I got straight to work, moving the blanket, digging out silver candle holders, and lighting some tea lights in front of the hallway mirror so I could turn the lights lower.
Jenny was busy cooking, so I arranged cookies and cupcakes on every manner of plate and platter I could find, setting them around the room as well. Soon it looked festive enough. People tended to come and go through the evening, so it always ended up packed.
When her phone began buzzing as people arrived in the lobby, we took turns hitting the entry button, not bothering to screen them.
We always voted on who got the comfortable seats, but this year the problem solved itself. Since Patricia was pregnant, she and her husband Mark got the tiny couch, and Andrea got the easy chair since she had pulled her back last week. Everyone else began finding spots on the floor, as people took turns making their own tacos, eating Patricia’s chocolate chip banana bread, and catching up on our lives.
“Oh my goodness, thank you so much,” I heard Jenny exclaim from the doorway. I turned to see Nolan handing her a huge poinsettia with a silver bow. He was wearing a
dark green shirt that stretched across his shoulders, making him look gigantic, with trim black pants that made him look like a rich guy trying to appear casual.
“Thank you so much for having me,” he said sweetly. He lifted a large box from the floor. “I have red wine to go with dinner, white wine for people that don’t drink red, nonalcoholic wine just in case anyone doesn’t drink, and two bottles of champagne for whenever it feels like the right time.”