CHAPTER TWELVE
Mandy called Candace into the bedroom. “Which of these outfits do you think I should wear tonight?”
“Going out?” Candace rubbed a towel over her bald head. “Who is the lucky guy? Please, not the handsy coach.”
“Definitely not him.” Mandy held up a yellow silk blouse.
“Then who?”
“Daniel.”
Candace let out a little scream. “When did he ask you?”
“Tuesday night.”
Candace pulled a blue skirt out of Mandy’s hand. “Whoa, you got asked out by one of the most eligible bachelors in the world and you didn’t tell me? For three whole days? I thought we were friends! And I even did your laundry.” She tossed the skirt on the bed and turned to leave.
Mandy caught the sleeve of Candace’s robe. “Which is why I have clean choices, thank you. Even if you won’t tell me what he wrote.”
“Tell me more about this date or I’ll go erase it.” The green T Candace picked up was quickly discarded.
“I thought it was a joke, but he texted this morning from London and said he would be here at six thirty. And I’ve got nothing to wear!”
“And only a half hour. Girl, what were you thinking?” Candace dug through the pile on the bed and pulled out a floral miniskirt.
“Too short. I’ll end up tugging on it all evening.”
“But your legs are fantastic! Even with the boot.”
“That is not the type of message I want to send. We are old friends, remember?” Mandy tossed the skirt aside and pulled out a long black one.
“Old friends, not old lady.” Candace studied the remaining clothes in the closet before reaching to the back and pulling out a thrift-store find from last year.
“You have never worn this one.” She held out the vintage pink-and-white ’50s dress complete with netted slip.
“But it’s pink.” Mandy picked back up the yellow blouse.
“Aren’t you the one who told me that according to color theory, pink is the color that makes guys feel most comfortable and therefore attracted to the female wearing it?”
“Yes, which is why I shouldn’t wear it.”
“That is exactly why you should. Hurry up. We have enough time to do your hair something à la Debbie Reynolds.” Candace reached for Mandy’s long ponytail.
“But I haven’t showered!”
“You did this morning. Use face wipes. Hurry! I have a masterpiece to create.”
Mandy hopped into the bathroom as Candace brought up a search for Debbie Reynolds. “Don’t get your hair wet!”
Fifteen minutes later, Candace was forcing yet another bobby pin into Mandy’s hair. Mandy’s cell phone rang, interrupting them. Daniel’s number flashed across the screen.
“Hello?”
“Amanda, I’m sorry about this, but my flight got grounded due to the storm. I’m stuck in Minneapolis. Can we take a rain check?”
“Sure.” Mandy started pulling out the bobby pins.
“Would tomorrow work for an early dinner, around four? I need to get back to Chicago that night.”
Mandy didn’t want to seem like she had no social life, but she also didn’t want to put off the date any longer. “It works.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t call earlier.”
Mandy caught herself worrying her lip in the mirror. “Don’t worry about it. Things happen. And being grounded at the wrong airport is the best cancelation excuse I have ever had.” She tried to infuse her voice with laughter.
Candace slumped on the bed.
“See you tomorrow.”
Mandy set the phone on the nightstand, then stood to unzip the side zipper of the dress.
“He isn’t coming, is he.” Candace started gathering the bobby pins.
Mandy shrugged. “I knew it wouldn’t happen.”
“But he made a date for tomorrow, right?”
Mandy hung the dress back in the closet. “It probably won’t happen either.” She hoped Candace didn’t see her swipe at an unwelcome tear. It wasn’t as if she had been looking forward to the date. Had she? She pulled on a terry robe and started rehanging the mass of clothes now littering her bed.
“I’d stay and eat some ice cream with you, but my date will be here in a half hour. I’m thinking raven tresses this time. He didn’t say a word about the red on Tuesday.”
“Wow, three times with the law student.”
Candace picked her towel up off the floor. “No, only two. The first was a group thing I went to with one of the girls from the studio.”
“So, is he polite or color blind?” Mandy shook out the yellow silk blouse.
“Not sure. I could arrange to lose my wig when he kisses me.”
Mandy sucked in a breath. “That is mean, and you know it. That accountant is probably still traumatized.”
They burst into laughter. Mandy had come home to find Candace and her accountant mid-kiss. He ended it so abruptly he’d stepped away with his hands still buried in one of the longer haired wigs, revealing Candace in all her bowling-ball glory.
Candace caught her breath. “It wouldn’t have been bad, but his frat ring was caught, and he couldn’t get the wig off. ‘Hi-yah! Hi-yah!’” She mimicked him trying to fling it off his hand.
“Stop it.” Mandy sunk onto the bed, holding her sides. “I’m going to pee my pants.”
“When it hit him in the face, he screamed like a girl!” Candace threw her arms up and ran from the room. “Made you laugh!” she yelled from down the hall.
Still laughing, Mandy hopped to the bathroom. Grandma Mae called it the curse of the weak bladder. Looking in the mirror, she wiped the tears from her eyes and wondered how many of them were from laughter.