Wrong Number, Right Woman

by Jae

  Denny clicked on the photo to enlarge it.

  It was indeed Ms. Burkhart, Bella’s school bus driver. “Oh my God! You won’t believe this! She’s the woman I nearly asked out the day we first exchanged texts!”

  “Um, you did?”

  “Yeah. Salem tried to talk me into it, but I, um, chickened out at the last moment.” Denny couldn’t stop shaking her head. “What a strange coincidence that we’d both be on No More Frogs.”

  “Don’t freak out, but it’s not a coincidence.”

  For the very first time, she and Eliza didn’t seem to be speaking the same language. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s the one who told me about No More Frogs, and I nudged you to use it, so…not really a coincidence. At least not that part.”

  “She told you…? Wait, you mean you know Ms. Burkhart?”

  “Yeah. Her first name is Heather.”

  “H-Heather? Wait, you mean…your Heather is Ms. Burkhart?” Denny moved the phone away from her ear and stared at it, then stared at her laptop and the message. A few words jumped out at her: Number neighbor. Heather. Eliza’s friend. The bed seemed to rotate around her as if she’d had a few too many beers.

  “Denny? Denny?” Eliza’s muffled voice came from the phone.

  Denny moved it back to her ear. “Still here. I think. Wow. What are the chances?”

  “Well, there are six hundred thousand people in Portland and about fifty kids on Heather’s bus. If I had paid better attention in math, I could tell you exactly what the chances are.”

  Grasping mathematical formulas was beyond Denny’s capability right now. Her head was still spinning. “How long have you known?”

  “Just since Heather found your profile on No More Frogs last Saturday. I would have told you, but I figured it was up to Heather to do that.”

  Both were silent for several moments.

  “You’re not angry with me, are you?” Eliza sounded uncharacteristically timid.

  “No, I just… It feels like someone is playing a prolonged April Fools’ Day prank on me.”

  “No prank, I swear,” Eliza said. “Just one of life’s strange coincidences. Like me sending a text message to a stranger—and ending up with a friend. This isn’t going to interfere with our friendship, is it?”

  Denny sat up. “No. It was just a bit of a shock. But I’m over it now. I think. How did Heather take it?”

  “She was stunned, but only for a second. There’s not much that could throw Heather for a loop,” Eliza said. “But she nearly gave me a heart attack when she burst into my apartment to show me Butch Auntie’s profile.”

  “Butch Auntie?”

  “I hope that doesn’t offend you,” Eliza said. “Heather couldn’t figure out an inconspicuous way to ask Bella for your name, so that’s what she called you.”

  “I am butch, so why would that offend me?” Denny paused. “So…does that mean she wanted to ask Bella about me? Like, she noticed me?”

  “Oh yeah. I don’t want to break any confidences, but yes, she did notice you. Didn’t she say so in her message?”

  Denny slid her glasses higher up on her nose. “Um, I didn’t read past her big reveal.” She pulled the laptop closer and read the rest of the message.

  The last paragraph said: So, if all this hasn’t sent you screaming for the hills, never to be heard of again, would you be interested in going out with me sometime? If you are, give me a call. I think you’ve got my number. No pun intended. It’s the same as yours, just with a nine at the end.

  “She asked me out,” Denny said out loud.

  “Will you? Go out with her, I mean.”

  Was she imagining things, or did Eliza sound hesitant? Probably just wishful thinking, right? It wasn’t as if she was jealous. “I guess so.”

  “You don’t sound very enthusiastic,” Eliza said.

  “No, no, it’s not that. I mean, I wanted to ask her out six weeks ago, so…of course I’m enthusiastic.” That wasn’t a complete lie, more of an exaggeration. Maybe Denny would have been more eager two months ago, but now…

  She clicked over to Eliza’s profile, which she had added to her favorites, and stared at the photo of Eliza doubled over, laughing, as her chestnut-brown hair flew everywhere. God, she was hopeless.

  And that was why going out with Heather was a good idea. Dating another woman would help her get over that silly crush.

  “Great,” Eliza said. “That’s really great.”

  “Yeah.”

  For once, silence stretched between them until Eliza said quietly, “Um, I have a favor to ask.”

  “Anything,” Denny said without a moment’s hesitation. “What is it? If you’re worried that I’ll be a total douchebag toward Heather…”

  “No, that’s not it. I know you couldn’t be a douchebag, even if your life depended on it. It’s got nothing to do with Heather.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “Okay, this will probably sound silly, but…”

  When Eliza hesitated, Denny’s heartbeat picked up. She scolded herself. This wasn’t one of the rom-coms she watched with Salem. Eliza wasn’t about to confess a crush on her. But her heart didn’t listen. It continued to pound, each heartbeat vibrating in her ears, nearly drowning out what Eliza said next.

  “Um, do you think we—you and I—could meet first? Before you and Heather do.”

  Good thing Denny was already sitting because her bones and muscles melted into a puddle of goo. “God, yes.” She mentally slapped her forehead, cleared her throat, and tried to sound more casual. “I’d like that.”

  “I know it’s silly and probably makes me sound like the spoiled youngest child who wants to keep her friend to herself, but…”

  “I said I’d like that, in case you missed my reply.” A grin tugged on Denny’s lips. It was nice to have Eliza be the one who rambled on for once—and it was nice how important this was to her.

  Eliza’s mouth snapped shut audibly in the middle of what she’d been saying. “Oh. Are you sure? I know you weren’t quite ready to—”

  “I’m sure,” Denny said. “I mean, it’s a first get-together between friends, not a date, right? So no reason to be nervous.” And if she kept telling herself that a thousand times a day, she might believe it by the time they met.

  “Right. No reason at all.” Eliza’s breathing reverberated through the phone. “So…when and where?”

  Denny’s mind scurried in a hundred different directions at once, but none of her ideas were special enough. Not a date, she firmly repeated to herself. But that didn’t make meeting Eliza in person any less special. “You pick.”

  “The Rose Festival opens next Friday,” Eliza said. “I don’t know if you’re fine with a bit of a crowd, but if you are… Would you like to go down to the waterfront, then watch the fireworks with me?”

  Denny bit back a sigh. “Sounds perfect.”

  A beautiful fireworks display on the waterfront, lights reflecting off the shimmering river, and the crowd around them forcing them to lean close to talk. She grimaced. Yeah, that sounded like the perfect meeting place to get over her crush.

  “Eliza Louise Harrison,” she muttered, staring at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, “what the hell was that?”

  Why had she asked Denny to meet her first? Despite her jokes about having been terribly spoiled as a child, she wasn’t an entitled brat. That “I became friends with her first, so I should get to meet her first” attitude so wasn’t her.

  But then why was she behaving like a jealous teenager? If she didn’t know any better, she’d think she had a crush on Denny.

  She chuckled, then stopped abruptly. No, that couldn’t be…could it?

  Eliza stared at her flushed cheeks in the mirror. That was just from gulping down the red wine too fast, right?

  She splashed some water onto her face, then looked back up into her own eyes.

  Okay, time to be straight with herself. She smiled at her mental choice of wor
ds. By tomorrow morning, the red-wine flush would be gone, but she knew without a doubt she’d still want to be the first to meet Denny.

  Maybe she did have a girl crush on her.

  So what? No big deal. It happened, even to straight women. Denny was so incredibly sweet; who wouldn’t develop a crush on her?

  Next week, they would finally meet, and while she had no doubt she would find Denny just as adorable in person, there would, of course, be no physical attraction.

  Her crush would mature into a deep friendship, and maybe one day, she would be the bridesmaid looking for a hookup at Denny and Heather’s wedding.

  Okay, she probably wouldn’t, since she wasn’t the hookup type. But she hoped the friendship part of her prediction would come true, and she and Denny would be in each other’s lives for many years to come.

  Chapter 12

  The six days leading up to the Rose Festival passed in a blur—way too fast and incredibly slowly at the same time.

  Denny’s nervousness grew with every hour that brought her closer to meeting Eliza. She wasn’t half as nervous regarding her date with Heather, which they had set up for the weekend after she met with Eliza.

  Maybe it was a good thing she was still off work. She was so distracted she probably would have handed back the wrong amount of change to customers or accidentally locked herself in the cooler room.

  At four o’clock on Friday afternoon, Denny pulled outfit after outfit from her closet, trying to decide what to wear.

  Should she wear the gray chinos? They might be overkill for the festival, but Eliza had thought she looked great in them when she had shared the photo.

  You’re not trying to impress her, she firmly told herself. This is not a date.

  But she reached for the chinos anyway. Nothing wrong with wanting to look good for a friend, right?

  She studied her choice of shirts.

  The weather had turned warmer, and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. Maybe something with short sleeves would make sense. She didn’t want to be sweaty before she even arrived.

  Finally, she decided on the baby-blue, short-sleeved button-up Salem had given her for her last birthday. Once she had the shirt on, she ran a hand over the fabric to make sure her breasts didn’t strain it. The last thing she needed was to pop a button.

  She turned sideways in front of her mirrored closet door, sucked in her belly, and craned her neck to study her butt. What are you doing? She’s not going to check out your butt!

  Denny untucked the shirt, then shook her head and tucked it back in. Her gaze went to her arms, usually one of her best features. But even after a week off work, small cuts and scratches from the boxes she handled still covered her forearms. Jeez, she looked as if she’d had a run-in with an aggressive cat! Should she wear a long-sleeved shirt after all?

  Before she could decide, the door to her room opened, and Salem stuck her head in. “Hey, why does your bathroom smell like a perfume store?”

  Denny froze. Oh no. Had she put on too much cologne? She sniffed herself. Yeah, she had overdone it a little, but it would dissipate by the time she got downtown.

  “Oh, I see. First-date jitters.” Salem stepped inside with an indulgent grin.

  “It’s not a date,” Denny repeated her mantra. “I’m meeting Eliza.”

  “Yeah, you mentioned that a time or two…hundred.” Salem flopped down amid the clothes on Denny’s bed.

  “Careful! Don’t wrinkle that shirt! I might want to wear it.” Denny pulled out the red chambray shirt from under her sister.

  Salem tilted her head. “Why? The one you have on looks great.”

  “Really?” Denny tapped her arms. “Even with all the scratches?”

  “Jeez, Denny! Didn’t you say Eliza makes bird toys for a living? Don’t you think she has a nick or two?”

  She hadn’t thought of that. Well, that solved the shirt problem. Denny turned back toward the mirror and smoothed her hand over the back of her head, trying to tame her cowlick.

  Salem hopped off the bed and stepped up behind her, studying Denny’s face in the mirror. Finally, she caught Denny’s hand and pulled her around. “Stop worrying so much. I guarantee she’ll like you, scratches, cowlick, and all.”

  “I know it’s silly. I just…” Denny gestured as she tried in vain to find the right words to explain.

  “I know.” Salem wrapped her arms around her in an encouraging hug.

  Denny hugged her back, even as she protested, “Don’t—”

  “Wrinkle the shirt, I know.” Salem gave her another squeeze, then let go.

  Bella shoved the door open and walked in with total disregard of the sisterly bonding she was interrupting. “Ew. Why does it smell like a perfume bottle exploded in here?”

  Christ, was it that bad? Denny sniffed herself again.

  “Your aunt is meeting Eliza at the festival,” Salem said.

  “Awesome, can I come?” Bella directed pleading puppy-dog eyes at Denny, who stood frozen.

  “Not today,” Salem said.

  Bella’s bottom lip quivered the way it had when she’d been a toddler being denied another cookie. “Please!” She glanced back and forth between them. “All my friends are going too.”

  For once, Denny wasn’t tempted to give in. “I’ll take you tomorrow, if you still want to go.”

  “But I want to meet Sneaker Woman too, and she’s not going to be there tomorrow.”

  No way. Wanting her to meet the family was what had made Eliza run from SongBoy77. Denny wouldn’t make the same mistake. “You will get to meet her, but not today.”

  Bella folded her arms across her chest. “When then?” A smile chased the pout off her face. “Oh! I’ve got a genius idea! She can come to my birthday party!”

  Denny wasn’t so sure Eliza would consider hanging out at a kid’s birthday party a genius idea. “I’ll ask her if I get a chance. But right now I’ve got to get going, or I’ll be late.”

  They had agreed to meet by the entrance at six. That gave them nearly four hours to explore the festival, check out the carnival rides, and sample the food at various booths before the fireworks display.

  Four hours. Denny swallowed. What would they be talking about for that long? Would there be awkward silences? Would Eliza grow bored spending so much time with her?

  She tried to tell herself it wouldn’t be any different from talking on the phone, but she knew it was a lie.

  After one last glance at her reflection, she decided the cowlick was as tame as it was going to get. She grabbed her wallet and favorite jacket and walked to the door.

  “Good luck,” Salem called after her.

  “Thanks,” Denny called back.

  The last thing she heard before the front door closed after her was Bella asking, “Why does she need luck if she’s only meeting Sneaker Woman?”

  Her niece had no idea. For Denny, there was no such thing as only Sneaker Woman.

  Eliza had been on four dates with four different guys in the past seven weeks, but her hands had always been steady when she had applied some makeup and mascara. Now, she was jittery, as if she’d chugged a gallon of coffee.

  She paused with the mascara brush raised halfway to her lashes. Why did she even need makeup and mascara? It was supposed to be a fun evening at the festival with a friend—a friend who would like her the way she was, no makeup needed.

  After hesitating for a moment, she turned on the water and scrubbed her face clean.

  No need to try on half the contents of her closet either, even though the urge to do so was strong. Normally, she would have narrowed it down to her top two or three choices and then sent Denny the selfies to pick for her.

  Not today. She didn’t allow herself to obsess over the decision as she picked her second-favorite pair of skinny jeans—black, so if she spilled anything on them, it wouldn’t show as much—and a short-sleeved, formfitting sweater that emphasized her slim waist.

  Oh yeah, you’re not obsessing over yo
ur outfit at all. She mentally chastised herself.

  At least her choice of shoes was easy. She put on the yellow sneakers with a smile, grabbed her jacket and purse, and locked the door behind her.

  Unlike Denny, she didn’t live far from the waterfront. She hoped a brisk walk would allow her to get rid of her nervous energy.

  As she walked up Park Avenue, she wondered how Denny was doing. Was she nervous too?

  It’s Denny. Of course she was nervous—Denny always was when she was meeting new people, while Eliza usually wasn’t. They were far from strangers, though, and maybe that was what made Eliza as nervous as she was excited. When meeting new people, she wasn’t usually invested in the outcome. If they got along, great. But if they had nothing to talk about, it wasn’t a big deal.

  This time, however, it mattered. If that connection she felt to Denny whenever they texted or talked on the phone wasn’t there in person, she would lose a close friend, not just fail to make a new one.

  She took a right onto Yamhill Street without focusing on where she was going. The Ferris wheel rising over the waterfront guided her in the right direction.

  As she approached the park, a light rain began to fall.

  Eliza peered at the sky. Of course. Rain on the opening day of the Rose Festival was practically a tradition. Couldn’t the weather gods have made an exception this year?

  Loud music from a stage drifted over, mingling with the screams and laughter from the people on various carnival rides.

  It was the first day of the festival, so people crowded around the entrance. Some of them—probably tourists—carried umbrellas, blocking Eliza’s line of sight.

  Would she be able to make Denny out in the crowd? Would she even recognize her right away, or would Denny, like some of her dates from No More Frogs, look nothing like her photo?

  She pulled her phone from her purse and texted Denny. What are you wearing?

  Once she had sent the message, she realized it sounded like a clumsy attempt at a sexting session. I mean, are you wearing anything that stands out so I can spot you more easily? she added. It’s pretty crowded.

  Are you here already? Denny texted back immediately.