On Tuesday, I managed to get out of work a little earlier than usual, since Julian had a meeting offsite. Rather than sit at home and overanalyze why he specifically asked me not to attend said meeting, I decided to take Graham up on his offer of a second date.

We went out the night before, and I thought it had gone well. He took me out for a movie and a burger, and I even let him kiss me good night. It wasn’t exactly fireworks and shooting stars, but it was nice. He was nice. He was respectful and kind, and he didn’t seem to notice anything was off with me, since I made sure to keep the focus on him.

For some reason, I couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

Tonight was more of the same. We met at a Mexican restaurant in Levittown, and the food was okay. Not awful, per se. But I’d had authentic enchiladas more times than I could count, so I was kind of picky about it. Graham talked a lot about himself, and I encouraged it, lost in my own thoughts about Julian, work, whether or not phthalates were truly necessary to produce a quality eyeshadow, work, the long drive home, and Julian.

We were leaving the restaurant when he asked me to go out again.

“I don’t live too far from you, you know. It’s just a few minutes over the causeway from Amityville to South Bay.” He smiled as I stopped in front of my car. “I could come pick you up.”

I smiled, but inside, I wasn’t so sure. The house I shared with Larkin was a mess. I didn’t want him to see that. I didn’t want anyone to see it, actually. I cringed every time I ran into one of our neighbors, because I just knew they were silently – and in the case of Phillip Lowenthal, not so silently – judging us. Their eyes would linger on the overgrown lawn and sagging front porch, and I would die a little inside. But yard work and I did not play well together, because getting dirty was not something I was really ever okay with. And it was really hard for Larkin to get out there and do it, too.

It was hard for her to do much of anything, now that her husband was gone.

But thinking of Larkin and Daniel did give me an idea for something that would keep this Graham thing going with a minimum amount of effort – and more importantly, something that would help Larkin out of the funk she’d been in for much too long.

“Actually,” I replied, “another date sounds great.”

Graham smiled. “Yeah?”

I nodded. “Absolutely. But how would you feel about a double date this Friday?”

Graham ran a hand through his dark hair. “That could be cool. What did you have in mind? I could see if maybe my sister is free.”

I smiled, but inside I panicked. I so did not want to meet Graham’s sister. Meeting the family was a huge step, and honestly, I wasn’t prepared to go there with him right now, and probably not ever. If this experiment had taught me anything, it was that Graham and I were just not meant to be. He was a great guy, but there was no chemistry, no spark, there.

Not like there was with a certain boss of mine. A boss who seemed completely unaffected by my continued relationship with the guy he all but forbade me to date. He hadn’t said anything to me all day, in fact, other than work-related things. And even then, he kept it to email whenever he possibly could. He was still his usual growly self, but nothing out of the ordinary.

So this whole thing had been for naught. I was wasting Graham’s time, wasting my own time, and not even accomplishing the one thing I’d been hoping to: getting a reaction out of Julian.

“It might have to be kinda late, though, since she lives in Manhattan. But I can call her,” Graham said, and I had to lay a hand on his arm to stop him reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“Actually, my roommate is single.” I widened my smile, trying not to flinch at the lie. But ‘single’ sounded better than ‘my roommate is a shut-in who can’t move on from her husband’s unexpected death,’ so that’s what I went with.

He agreed easily, as I suspected he would. We worked out the rest of the details quickly after that, and I got another uneventful goodbye kiss. Then I drove myself home.

I watched the causeway lights twinkle as I crossed the bay, their reflections rippling in the water. The sight soothed my exhausted mind. Sure, I was still tired, and frustrated, and unsure of basically everything in my life at the moment. But as long as the ocean existed, and I could be near it, then I was okay.

As I sang along with Demi Lovato on the radio, I debated how to broach the subject of a double date with Larkin. I’d been trying to get her to agree to start dating again – God, even to leave the house again – for months. But she wouldn’t budge. If anything, she doubled down, burrowing deeper under the covers to avoid everything and everyone. And it just broke my heart to see her so defeated. Larkin had always had a fiery personality, but now she was like a shadow of her former self.

I yawned as I turned onto our street. I’d talk to her after I got ready for bed. Maybe we could even have a pajama party and catch up on our shows. I was four episodes behind on Keeping Up with the Kardashians, which was just not okay.

When I finally got home, I dragged myself inside, yawning again. My mind was working overtime as I took my shoes off, thinking about all the things I had to do tomorrow. I had about fifty emails to respond to, and I needed to update Julian’s calendar for December. And it would be an early morning again, since Julian had a conference call with the Lyon office at seven. He would need me to jump in, since I spoke French and he didn’t. Never mind that it was high school French, better suited for asking where the discotheque is than for negotiating the construction of a new European production plant. And never mind, too, that our colleagues overseas spoke perfect English. He insisted that I dial in for every call.

As I took my makeup off and washed away the long day in the shower, I wondered whether he’d give me the cold shoulder again tomorrow. I wasn’t sure how long I could take his punishment – because there was no doubt that’s what it was. He knew me too well already. It was a sure bet that he knew the worst thing he could possibly do is not pay attention to me.

It wasn’t until I was snuggled deep under the covers and nearly asleep that I remembered the double date and my plan to talk to Larkin. I'd been so tired by the time I got home that it had completely slipped my mind. I sighed, glancing at the alarm clock on my nightstand. I had to be at work in less than eight hours. And I knew I would need at least an hour to get ready in the morning, since it took time to look so amazing every day. And I was really comfy right now. I let out another lusty yawn. Definitely too comfy to get up.

I would just have to talk to Larkin tomorrow. I’d figure out how to convince her to go on this date, find her a great guy, and we’d have a good time.

 

 

On Friday morning, I got a text from Graham while I was getting ready to head out for a run.

“Oh, shoot,” I muttered.

“You know you can say ‘shit,’ right?” Larkin shuffled into the kitchen, scowling at me from behind a curtain of long, tangled black hair. “Father Anselm can’t hear you from all the way across town.”

“It was never Father Anselm I was afraid of,” I reminded her. “It was Sister Mary Agnes and that yard stick.”

“‘Because a ruler is too small for God’s mighty work,’” she cackled in a perfect imitation of our math teacher’s voice.

“She persecuted me,” I complained, for probably the thousandth time. “She was constantly threatening to smack me on the backs of my thighs with that yardstick, shrieking that my skirts were too short.”

“That’s because your skirts were too short.”

“But my legs are amazing,” I argued. “It’s a sin to cover them up.”

“Pretty sure the bigger sin is wearing a skirt so short that your pussy hangs out.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Ugh, must you use that word?”

“Pussy, pussy, pussy,” she sang out.

“You live to torture me,” I accused.

“It’s my only joy in life.”

I frowned, and not just because she was being more morose than usual. “Anyway, you need to get dressed. We’re going running in five minutes. You can’t wear your pajamas.”

I neglected to point out that they were in fact Daniel’s pajamas, because I didn’t want to make her cry this early in the morning. And I totally deserved a cookie for that, so I took a dark chocolate Milano from my secret stash in the back of the cabinet. I munched on it while I watched Larkin fumble through pouring a cup of coffee. To say she wasn’t a morning person was an understatement.

“Yeah, no. Fuck running.” She frowned down at the sugar bowl like it had betrayed her, and I sighed.

“It’s just a few miles,” I reasoned as I refilled the sugar for her. “You need to move more, or your muscles are going to get atrophied.”

“Fuck that noise,” she grumbled. “I’m having a cup of coffee, then I’m going back to bed.”

“You won’t be able to sleep if you drink coffee.”

“Can’t sleep anyway.” Her reply was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.

I frowned as she shuffled around, pouring her coffee. She took a couple of cookies from my stash, too. I would normally have protested, since those were my special treat. But her appetite was so hit-or-miss lately, and she’d lost a lot of weight in the last year and a half. She could have some cookies if she wanted.

I took a deep breath before I replied. “You should try to get a nap in today, though. We have plans tonight.”

That caused her to look up. Her violet eyes were narrowed in suspicion, and her gaunt face was twisted in a scowl. “What plans?”

I gave her my best smile, hoping it would go a long way to persuading her. “Well, it’s Friday.”

She gave me a blank look for a moment. Then her cheeks paled. “No. Fuck no. Absolutely fucking not, Tay.”

I bit my lip. I knew this would be hard for her. It would be hard for me, too. Larkin, Daniel, and I had been inseparable for nearly a decade, and Friday nights were our double date night. For years, we’d go out together, the three of us and whoever I was dating that week. I had so many amazing memories of those Friday nights, and I was honestly a little scared to start the tradition with someone new.

But Larkin was miserable, and I couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to get back out there, and a double date was a good way to ease her into it. She could avoid the pressure of a one-on-one conversation, and I could keep an eye on her to make sure she was okay. Win-win.

“It’s one night,” I coaxed, using my most persuasive tone. “Just to get your feet wet. Besides, I found a great guy for you. He’s smart, and funny, and really handsome.”

Okay, so that was a big fat pile of lies. I didn’t have anyone lined up for her. I’d been working so hard all week that I’d completely forgotten about this whole thing until Graham texted me just now, asking for my address. But Larkin didn’t need to know that, or this whole conversation would be over before it started. And that was unacceptable.

“I am not going out tonight. Or ever.” Larkin’s tone was firm, but she gripped her coffee cup with trembling hands, and her shoulders were hunched in on herself, telling me she was about to cry.

I took a deep breath. “Tell you what,” I said. “Come out tonight, and I won’t bug you about dating for another two weeks.”

She looked up, narrowing her eyes at me. “How about never.”

“A month,” I countered.

“A year.” She scowled at me, and I sighed. If she refused to date, to meet someone and be happy again, then I resolved to at least get her a better moisturizer. She was going to get permanent wrinkles on her forehead at the rate she was going.

“Six months,” I replied. “Final offer.”

She huffed. “Fine. But I reserve the right to stab you at the restaurant if it doesn’t go well.”

I laughed, glad to see her weird sense of humor was still intact. “Why at the restaurant?”

The corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly – the ghost of a smile. And I smiled back, my first genuine one all morning. All week, really. She wasn’t happy, not yet. Not by a long shot. But she would be. Tonight would be fun, and Larkin would eventually be herself again.

“Because,” she replied. “You like the attention.”

I laughed, because she certainly had me there.