“Yes. And guess what? There’s no plus one.”
“That’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you. So you’re wearing your red dress…”
“Yeah. Well…”
“Wait. You don’t want it? It’s nice. It’s sexy.”
“It’s all that, but I put it on, and, um… It looks great, but it’s too much. It looks like I’m trying too hard. And it’s not only about us. He might not have a memory of me and how I look at my job, but my coworkers know me. It’s way too much, and I’m afraid I might not be able to pull it off. Besides… What if I don’t even get to talk to him? And I’m all stiff and overly sexy with no one to talk to. I’m sure people will dress nice. But not nice as in a fashion magazine cover kind of nice if you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean. Trust me… I’d feel the same. So what do you want to do?”
“Other than canceling my plans and staying home?” she says seriously, and I bite.
“No. You’re not staying home.”
She laughs.
“I was joking, silly. Of course, I won’t stay home. I’ve waited for this party for like, forever. I was wondering if you had taken all those pretty dresses to Miami.”
“Oh… Uh. No. Well, almost. Let me think… No, there is one, “ I say in an upbeat voice. “The only reason I left it home was that I wore it at work once. It’s sexy and demure. It doesn’t look like you’re trying too hard, and trust me, I got a lot of attention at work. Okay… Okay,” I say, all excited. “Let me see. I might have a picture of it on my phone.”
I find a photo and send it to her. Her excitement makes me gleeful.
“I’m happy that you like it. Well, I guess you have to fetch it,” I say. “Do you know how to get there?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Cool. Go now.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“It’s dark outside.”
“So? Go get it tonight. You only have tomorrow to get ready. You need to try it on, see if it fits, and find something else in case things don’t work out. Maybe you want to clean it or freshen it up. I only wore it that one time and I didn’t have the chance to take it to the cleaners.”
She laughs like it’s a good joke.
“Shut up. When was the last time you took something to the cleaners?”
I smile.
“Never.”
“Exactly. Don’t worry. I’ll steam it. And it will look like new.”
She looks away.
“Wait a second. I need to get some clothes,” she says, disappearing from the video frame.
I look away at the ocean and suck in a long breath, making a mental note to ask Giana to go shopping with me when I return.
Even better, I can buy her Christmas gifts. This way, she won’t protest, and I won’t need to tell her that I’m loaded.
Loaded.
I laugh. And roll my eyes.