My feet are killing me, and I swap all of my weight to my left foot, hoping to give my right a break as I place the 200th foil in my client’s hair. She and her bestie popped in here an hour ago, right at closing time, and begged Jessie and me to squeeze them in for last-minute highlight appointments. I wanted to laugh in their faces, but then she tucked some hair behind her ear, and her SUV-sized diamond ring raised its eyebrows suggestively at me. Jessie also saw the dollar signs hovering over these ladies’ heads, and we both became the world’s most accommodating stylists. Would you like a glass of wine? A foot rub? Need me to do your grocery shopping? Socks mended? SURE! Don’t forget to tip, and no, I don’t have change for a hundred.
But believe me, we are more than working for this money. They wanted highlights, lowlights, dark roots, and to talk nonstop until my ears bleed and my brain oozes out of my nose. You’d think they’d want to talk to each other, but no.
“How far along are you?” the girl named Sasha asks Jessie—which is honestly a bold move because Jessie’s baby bump is still small enough to potentially be an undigested burger.
“Five months.”
“Cute. Who’s your baby daddy?”
Jessie falters with her foil, though I doubt anyone noticed it but me. It’s an invasive question (one I’ve never had the guts to ask) and I’m sure not one Jessie appreciates. “Like his name? You wouldn’t know him.”
“You never know,” the girl says with a cheeky grin that no one appreciates. “I get around.” Just for that, Sasha is going to leave with slightly brassier highlights than she’d like. “I’m kidding, girl! So, did he bail? I noticed you don’t have a ring on.”
Jessie gives a tight smile in the mirror. “Yep. Bailed.”
My heart tugs. I know exactly what that feels like. I know how it feels to have to answer those prodding questions, and I know what it feels like to not be wanted. If it wasn’t weird, I’d go wrap my arms around Jessie, snuggle her right here in the middle of the salon, and tell her she will get through it.
“Ugh, too bad. Men suck,” says Sasha’s friend Carrie. “They NEVER do what they say they are going to.”
This triggers something in Sasha, and her jaw drops as she sharply turns her head to Carrie. “Did he seriously still not add you on Snapchat?!”
Carrie abruptly whips her head toward Sasha, ripping a foil from my hand that I had just perfectly placed. Yeah, don’t mind me, I’m not doing anything important back here. “No! And he, like, promised he would before he left town today.” She plops back heavily against the chair again and pouts at her reflection. “Why is it so difficult for men to follow through and contact us like they say they will?”
“You’re telling me!” I say, shocking myself that I said that out loud.
Jessie looks even more shocked. She paints a little lightener onto a strand of Sasha’s hair then slowly moves her gaze up to me with sassy lifted eyebrows. “Is this about Cooper? Do tell.”
Carrie gasps with joy and completely turns around in her seat, knees tucked up to her chest and clapping with excitement. “TELL US!”
It makes me laugh how eager these women are to jump into my drama, but I also kind of love them for it. Besides, who else am I going to talk to about this? My only other friend is Drew, and I definitely can’t discuss it with him.
“Okay, well, yeah. So, there’s this guy…my brother’s best friend—” The girls oooooh collectively, and Jessie just gives a guttural laugh. “Anyway. He’s the best-looking man I’ve ever seen and definitely has women fawning over him at every turn. I thought there was no way he would be interested in me, but then…”
“YEAH?!” They are way too excited to hear this story.
“Well, he sort of started flirting with me. And texting me. And…sneaking me off on secret late-night pool adventures.”
“Shut up. I’m so jealous of you right now. Keep going.”
“And then…I tried to kiss him. And he rejected me.”
“Ouch,” says the choir of women.
“Yeah. But here’s the really confusing part: he was still super touchy-feely with me the rest of that night, even sent me a sweet goodnight text. AND THEN, about two weeks ago, he came down with food poisoning and called me to come over and take care of him.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, of course I did. And he was so adorable and sweet and laid his head in my lap and slept the entire night snuggling my thighs like they were his favorite stuffed animal from childhood.”
“And then?”
“And then nothing.” My eyes catch on the droopy, wilted bouquet of flowers on my station that I refuse to throw away despite the mold now creeping up the stems, and I correct myself. “Well, not nothing. The next morning, we had a stilted goodbye where he almost seemed to regret the night, so I hightailed it out of there, ready to write him off forever, until this gorgeous—well, it was gorgeous—bouquet showed up here at work with a thank-you card for taking care of him. The card also mentioned that he’d be happy to return the favor next time I’m feeling bad.”
“When was all of this?” asks Sasha. I think she’s about to pull out a notepad and pen. Before the night is up, there will be pictures and maps and red strands of twine connecting clues all across the salon walls.
I sigh and wince a little. “Almost two weeks ago. That’s bad, right? That means he’s not interested?”
Carrie pipes up. “Not necessarily. You said he’s your brother’s best friend?”
“Yeah.”
Both women look at each other and give one affirming nod before saying in perfect harmony, “Bro code.”
“Bro code?”
“Yes, grandma. Even I know what they’re talking about.” Jessie wants to act like she’s not into this gossip, but she’s just as invested as I am. One minute ago, we thought these girls were ridiculous and an insult to women everywhere, and now we are sitting at their feet, begging to be inducted into their super-special club. “Part of the bro code is not dating a friend’s sister, and I’m pretty sure if she’s a baby sister, it’s doubly enforced.”
My shoulders sag because, somehow, I know they are right. Drew even told me to stay away from Cooper. Did he tell Cooper the same thing? That makes me feel both thankful that I’m so loved, and like I want to dismember my brother for thinking he has any sort of say over my life.
“How do I know for sure?”
“You text him.”
“And ask him?”
“No. That will make you look desperate, especially if that’s not the real reason he’s ghosting you.” I take back everything I ever said about this woman. She’s brilliant. Scholarly. Should be teaching a course at a university, because what she’s explaining right now is a way-better life skill than algebra. “Instead, text him first—something flirty but innocuous.”
Now I’m the one who needs a notepad. SOMEONE GET ME A NOTEPAD! “Okay, flirty and innocuous. Got it.” I don’t got it—and Sasha suspects as much.
“Just say Hi with a little smiley face.”
“That’s it?” I ask with wide, frantic eyes. My chest is constricting. My breath is too short. How do I know if I’m having a heart attack?
Carrie laughs and takes over. “Yes. That’s it. And then if he responds, go from there. Keep the conversation short and minimal. Don’t give away too much that you’re interested in him. And whatever you do, do not respond right away. Oh, also, it’s best to ghost him after four texts, especially if he asks what you’re up to so you can leave him wanting more. Don’t respond for two days.”
“Two?!”
“Two. Don’t mess it up,” Sasha warns, turning back to sit properly in her seat.
Thirty minutes after we close the door behind my new BFFs, Sasha and Carrie, I stare down at my phone and type out exactly what I was instructed to send.
Jessie hovers over my shoulder, breathing on my neck and making me even more nervous. But there’s no going back. I’ve decided in my head that Cooper is worth it. Plus, I’ve already embarrassed myself in front of him several times. Really, I’ve got nothing to lose.
Lucy: Hi 🙂
“Oh gosh, I did it!” I say, dropping my phone onto the counter like it suddenly morphed into molten lava.
“Yep. Now we wait.” Jessie puts her hands on her lower back to ease the ache. It’s hard enough being a hairdresser when you’re not pregnant, but with the added weight in the front, it’s total death to your back. Even so, I know Jessie is touchy about this subject, and she would rip my head off if I asked if she’s feeling okay because, for some reason, she doesn’t like to show any signs of weakness.
I swallow down the lump of regret in my throat as I stare at my phone again. What if he doesn’t respond? “I guess we don’t have to hover over my phone like the Grim Reaper until he responds. I’m going to go sweep up.”
I get two steps away and then hear it ping. I race back and snatch it from the counter before Jessie gets the chance.
Cooper: Hi back 🙂
“UGHHHH. Hi back?! Sasha didn’t prepare me for that reply!” Of course he would respond like that—with way more game than anyone should ever have. Why didn’t I get Sasha’s number?!
Jessie’s eyes are wide too, and she puts her hands out in front of her in the classic settle down gesture. “Okay, let’s just take a breath. She said not to respond right away anyway. Let’s harness our inner rich goddess and see what reply pops into our heads.”
“I don’t have enough self-tanner in my bloodstream to fully harness mine.”
“Oooh, I know!” she nearly shouts. “Say…Sup?”
I gawk at her. “Sup?! What am I, a frat guy in a salmon shirt and little shorts with anchors printed on them?”
“Well, do you have any better ideas?”
“Yes. I’m going to the cell phone store and changing my number. Problem solved.”
Jessie is about to tell me I’m stupid when another text comes through, and we both scream like someone just jumped out of a closet and yelled BOO!
Cooper: What have you been up to?
“Okay, okay, okay, that’s good. He’s interested. He’s keeping the conversation going. Now, do exactly what Sasha said and ghost him.”
“Too late. I sent a reply while you were talking,” I say, trying to angle my phone away so she can’t judge.
“You didn’t.”
“I did.”
She shakes her head, looking exasperated. “What did you say?”
I reluctantly show her my text.
Lucy: Nothing. Been super bored.
Her face is so disapproving. She thinks my response is garbage. “Oh great. Now he knows you’re pathetic and desperate.”
I gasp. “Hey! I’m not pathetic and desperate.” But I totally am, and now I’m itching to correct myself. Jessie sees the look in my eyes and turns her head to the side so she can shoot me an effective side glare.
“Don’t text anything else—”
She doesn’t get to finish before I’ve shot off another gem.
Lucy: But not like super bored. I mean I’ve been doing stuff.
Not just sitting around thinking about you.
The second after I hit send, I feel in my bones that it was a mistake. Yep, so bad. I groan. “What have I done! I’m a disgrace to single women everywhere! I have to fix this.”
“No! Lucy, don’t you dare text one more thing. Hand over the phone.” Now she’s looking at me like I’m holding my thumb over the trigger of a bomb detonator. She’s inching forward, and I’m inching away, fingers poised to fly across the keyboard at record speed. “Lucy,” she says, dragging out my name.
I hold her gaze and whisper, “I’m sorry, Jessie. I have to.” And then I bolt across the salon, pregnant Jessie hot my heels. My thumbs mash the screen in ungraceful movements as I zigzag around furniture, trying to outsmart Jessie by doing a spin move when she corners me. “HA! Pregnant sucker!” I yell while pressing send on the best text I’ve ever concocted.
Jessie slumps over into a chair, trying to catch her breath. “You’re beyond help. If Cooper doesn’t ghost you after whatever terrible thing you sent him, marry that man.”
I look down and reread what I wrote. The moment the tag under the text moves from delivered to read, I want to enter the witness protection program.
Lucy: What I’m trying to say is, I have done the appropriate amount of things since we last saw each other. Not too much, not too little. And I have thought about you. But also an appropriate amount. Some might even say a friendly amount.
Cooper surprises me and doesn’t ghost me. He doesn’t even make me wait for a response.
Cooper: That’s too bad. I liked it better when I thought you were pining for me.
“Wow, those are some top-notch flirting skills,” Jessie says, appearing over my shoulder like the blonde genie in that old TV show.
Seeing his name on my screen has done something to me, further ignited the same flame I usually feel in his presence, but intensified it. For some reason, I’m willing to risk my dignity for this man, because I miss him. And I can’t remember ever caring about a man enough to miss him this much when he’s not around.
I take a deep breath and type out a message. Jessie doesn’t fight me this time.
Lucy: Hey, so, Drew left last week for his medical trip, and I was planning on taking Levi to the park in the morning to fly his kite. Drew usually goes with us, but since he’s not around, I was wondering if you’d want to come? I know it probably doesn’t sound very exciting, but if you’re free, we’d love to have some company. I mean…if you don’t have any hot dates to go on. If you do, no worries, I totally understand.
I try to swallow my heart back down from my throat while I wait for a response. I also decide that if Cooper says no to this, I’ll be done. I will find a way to force this crush out of my heart because it would be nothing but a waste of time to pursue a man who doesn’t want to fly a kite with me and Levi. My son and I are a package deal, and I will always choose Levi over a man.
Levi is the reason I picked up my pride and carried it back home with me to live with Drew after I failed to pave my own way in Georgia. He’s why I’ve sat through unbearable meals with Brent and every single one of his girlfriends over the years so I can get to know the women who will be a presence in my son’s life. He’s why my favorite jeans will never fit me again but I still refuse to throw them away.
So, if he doesn’t want me AND Levi, I’ll let any hopes I have of Cooper falling for someone like me go.
But…maybe I won’t have to.
Cooper: Pick you guys up at 9?
