by Hilary Dartt
When she saw him pull a pizza, a picnic basket and a bottle of wine off the back seat, Delaney felt a rush of pleasure.
“There’s a blanket, too,” he said. “Would you mind grabbing it?”
Why did she always feel like swooning when she was in the company of Jake Rhoades?
The picnic spot was a good half-hour’s hike uphill. Delaney was starving by the time they reached it. Jake took the blanket, spread it on the ground and set the picnic basket on it.
“What a view, huh?” he said.
They were perched on the Western side of the mountain, and the City of Juniper sat below them, tucked neatly into the valley. She could see the downtown square, the big trees just starting to leaf out and her own tiny house just a couple of blocks up from there.
“I bet you bring all the ladies up here,” she said.
She’d meant it as a joke, but simultaneously remembered that Brittany character, the photos on FriendZoo and that she was supposed to tell him she wasn’t seeing anyone else. She wished she hadn’t brought it up. She clamped her lips together, hoping her joke hadn’t brought fresh memories of Brittany to his mind. They sat on the blanket and Jake opened the picnic basket.
“All the ladies,” he said. “Yeah, I bring ’em all. Actually, this is where my parents used to bring my brothers and sisters and me when we were younger. I’ve never brought an actual lady up here.”
Delaney was grateful he was so busy unloading plates, napkins, wine glasses and bottles of water that he couldn’t see the relief on her face.
“How many siblings do you have?” she asked.
“Seven. Four sisters and three brothers.”
He opened the wine, poured each of them a glass.
“No way,” she said.
“Way. How about you?”
“One of each.”
She took a couple of sips of the wine and felt it go immediately to her head.
“Pizza?” he said.
“Oh, yeah.”
“So what was it like growing up with all those kids in the house?” Delaney said between bites.
“Crazy. It was crazy, and fun, and exciting. All those things. You know, people worry about giving their kids enough attention, but when we were growing up my parents always had time for us. It was so much fun. Even now, when we all get together, it’s so much fun. I want a whole gaggle of kids.”
What guy says that? Delaney wondered.
“You’d have to get a lot of pizzas,” she said.
“True. We always had to get, like, four or five pizzas. When we were teenagers my parents started having pizza parties at home so we could make our own. We all liked different stuff, you know? For a while, when we still went to pizza parlors, my mom would be like, ‘We’ll get four large pizzas, please. One half cheese and half pepperoni. One half combo and half anchovy.’ And then it would get complicated. ‘The third one should have onions on the whole thing, but half of it should have bacon and sausage and the other half should have pineapple, ham and what was it, honey? Oh, right, roasted garlic. Oh. We ordered one more, didn’t we? Okay, the fourth one should have …’ You get the picture.”
Delaney pictured the chaos of a bunch of kids sitting around the table giving orders to their mom. “So do you all still see each other often?”
“Oh yeah. I mean, we’re all over the place, but we see each other often, considering.”
“Where do you fall in the birth order?”
“Second. I have an older sister and the rest are younger.”
He refilled her wine glass. In the easy silence that followed, Delaney thought, this would be a perfect time to tell him I’m not seeing anyone else.
But she couldn’t muster up the courage. Instead, she sipped her wine and listened to Jake’s stories about Allie, his four-year-old niece, and their antics at family get-togethers. Because she was an adventurous tomboy, he employed her for all kinds of shenanigans, like putting a frog in her mom’s water glass or starting an all-out water balloon fight in the middle of dinner.
The sun began to set, and the sky looked like a watercolor painting, huge swaths of wispy gray clouds on a backdrop of candy pink and fire orange. Streaks of sunlight shone through the clouds, sending out ethereal beams of light.
“This is beautiful,” Delaney said. “I’ve always missed this time of day – for so long, I was behind the bar at Rowdy’s during sunset. And when I wasn’t working, I couldn’t be bothered to actually step foot outside.”
Jake chuckled. “It is beautiful, isn’t it? Sometimes I wish I’d pursued painting instead of woodworking. But I’m terrible at it.”
“How’s that all coming? Your woodworking, I mean.”
“It’s coming,” he said. “I found a gallery space I really like. Maybe I can show you next time.”
Speaking of next time, this is the perfect opening to tell him I’m not seeing anyone else.
Instead, she said, “That’d be great.”
“How’s the job hunt going?” he asked.
Delaney cringed. “Not great.”
She explained the nobody-will-hire-you-without-experience-but-you-can’t-get-experience-until-someone-hires-you malady.
“You know, I never thought about it like that,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll find something.”
As he spoke, Delaney thought she saw a thought flicker through his mind. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it made her uneasy. Probably he didn’t want to date a long-term bartender. Someone with no prospects for a real future.
“It’s getting pretty dark,” he said then, sending her hopes plummeting. “I guess we should pack it up, so we don’t kill ourselves getting back down the hill.”
As they walked back to the Jeep, Delaney was surprised to realize that even though they hadn’t kissed or hugged or even held hands, she felt closer to him than she had to anyone in a long time. And, even though a tinge of worry had started gnawing at the back of her mind, she felt something else she hadn’t felt in a really long time: contentment.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The crowd at Umbrella Coffee was unusually chatty today, Delaney noticed as she waited for her mom. She twirled the straw in her iced tea. The shop’s buy one, get one deal made Wednesdays busy. But typically the people were quiet as they read, studied and worked on their laptops. Probably it was the weather, which had warmed to a balmy seventy-five. Delaney had trouble believing the forecast, which predicted another massive snowstorm in a couple of days.
“I ordered you a latte,” Delaney said when her mom walked in.
“Thanks, honey,” she said. “Sorry I’m late. I was at the travel agent’s, booking a trip to Australia for our fortieth anniversary.”
“Wow. Forty years,” Delaney said. “And Australia. I didn’t even know you were thinking of going there.”
“I know. It’s wild, isn’t it?” Camille sipped her drink, sat back in her chair. “It’s last minute. You know your dad, he got a wild hair and now we just have to do it.”
Delaney experienced a quick flash of envy. Her parents operated in their own world. Completely satisfied with one another, they didn’t need approval or feedback from anyone else. They were perfectly content to go about their lives together. And they’d done so for forty years. She couldn’t even maintain a relationship for forty weeks.
“So how’d your last date go with that dreamy Jake guy?” Camille asked.
“You ran into Summer again, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. So how’d it go?”
Delaney remained silent, but the look on her face gave her pleasure away..
“Say no more. It was great, wasn’t it?”
“It was. He’s great, Mom.”
“You’re all aglow.”
“Am I?”
“You know,” Camille said, “when I first met your dad, I was so smitten. He was so … different. He seemed shy, introverted. So much so that I didn’t even know he was interested until one of his students came over and told me, ‘Miss Wilcox, Miste
r Collins really likes you.’”
“I didn’t know that.”
“It was so cute. She was this precocious little thing, nine or ten, you know, fifth grade. Susie. I’d had her for first grade and I had her sister the year I met your dad. She had this awful haircut and teeth that were way too big for her face. Adorable. She had that very grown-up affect, you know. She says, ‘I think you should go in and talk to him.’ I thought, you know, he is really cute. I’ve just never heard him say more than a word or two. But the kids love him, the other teachers love him. Maybe there’s something to this guy. He later told me that whenever Susie mentioned my name, he’d blush. Uncontrollably. Susie was mature for her age, so she picked up on the cues.”
Camille shook her head.
“So, you know how it goes from there. I went to talk to him, asked him out and that was that. The rest, as they say, is history.”
Delaney loved the story of her parents’ courtship. Her dad was still quiet, a little eccentric, a little introverted. Pretty much the opposite of her mom. But when they were together, they made the perfect pair. Roger had the vision, the big ideas, the energy. And Camille had the systems, the practicality. She kept things grounded.
“And now, forty-something years later, you’re going to Australia.”
“That’s right. Beaches, snorkeling, warm sun. It’s perfect.”
“What made you choose Australia?”
“Oh, you know. It’s a whole different hemisphere. At certain points in your life, Delaney, you realize you have to turn everything upside down.”
***
The next day, Delaney parked on the street in front of her house and jogged the short distance to Rowdy’s for Happy Hour. Even as she rushed along, she noticed the bright pink blossoms on the cherry trees, the happy chirping of the little birds that had returned to Juniper for spring and the scent of newly-planted flowers in hanging pots on the street lamps. Smiling, she dashed into the bar.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said to Josie and Summer, who were already sipping on their drinks. “This job hunting stuff is killing me! I’ve been sending resumes all day.”
“It’s no biggie, we ordered you a beer,” Summer said.
Now that she was back on good terms with her two best friends, Delaney felt like her world was in balance. This week, Rowdy’s cheerful, festive St. Patrick’s Day decorations, a string of shiny green shamrocks behind the bar and green and white balloons floating near the ceiling, aligned with Delaney’s enthusiasm.
“Cheers to Summer and The Sweets. Two more days ’til the first live gig!” Josie said.
“Cheers!” Delaney said.
“Cheers to that,” Summer said. “Not quite the same, toasting with water, but still.”
“So, are you ready?” Josie asked.
“I’m nervous,” Summer said. “Really nervous.”
“You guys will be great,” Delaney and Josie said at the same time.
“And it’ll be the first of many performances,” Delaney said, “So get used to it! Stardom is just around the corner.”
“True.” She took a deep breath, inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. “Okay, I’m letting it go. Plus you guys will be there to support me. So, Josie, tomorrow’s the deadline to turn in your principal application. You’re in, right?”
Tomorrow, Josie would know who else was on the list of applicants. This meant they could start working on their plan of attack: which strengths they’d focus on, which accomplishments to play up and most importantly, which shoes to pair with her power suits for the long series of interviews to follow.
“Oh, yeah. I’m in. I was thinking about putting some ipecac syrup in Blair Upton’s coffee today during morning recess, so she couldn’t turn in the paperwork tomorrow. But I held back.”
“She’s got nothing on you,” Summer said.
Delaney narrowed her eyes at Josie. “Have you been working out? I thought we agreed you were going to. For stress relief. You still seem really stressed.”
Josie looked down at her vodka cranberry.
“Josie!” Delaney said. “You need to start working out. That is your one rule. You always do this. You take a couple of steps toward … whatever, and then you just quit.”
She knew she was being just a little mean-spirited, but it was so nice to have the attention on someone else, for once.
“I know. It’s just that I’m so stressed out, I can’t see how adding one more thing to my to-do list is going to help.”
“When you release all the tension through exercise,” Summer said, “your mind is calmer and you’re able to focus better on that long to-do list.”
“Do we need to spy on you, Josie?” Delaney said. “Make sure you’re going to the gym after school?”
“Oh, God, no. I’ll start going. Tomorrow, I promise.”
“I can go with you,” Delaney said, and then, because she couldn’t resist a little dig, she added, “Moral support, not spying.”
“Okay, already, Dee. We get your point,” Summer said.
For the next hour, they settled into their usual conversation topics. It was just like pre-Intervention times, Delaney thought.
Summer told the girls how Luke unrolled an entire roll of paper towels on the kitchen floor so he could make a telescope out of the cardboard cylinder. Delaney told them about a dog who’d peed in the front room of a vet’s office where she applied that day, creating a vast puddle that required a massive number of paper towels to mop it up. And Josie told them the stomach flu was going around her school and one of her students barfed all over her floor. The janitor had used a mop and a truckload of paper towels to clean it up, but Josie was so busy trying not to gag that she hadn’t watched.
When Summer stood up to pee for the fifth time at seven p.m., they decided to call it a night.
“I know my hormones are making me haywire,” Summer said, stretching, “but I sure love you girls.”
“We love you too,” they said, embracing her.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Delaney said to Josie. “Five o’clock.”
“Five o’clock,” Josie said. “Sharp.”
She was so lucky, she thought on the way home, to have two friends who she loved so much. She’d do anything for them. Anything.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Wednesday evening, Delaney didn’t even look at her phone as she drove to the gym. If Josie attempted to text Summer and Delaney to slither out of their workout commitment again, she would show up out of obligation.
In the gym parking lot, Josie leaned against her car, arms crossed, mouth set in a pout. Delaney, scared to be alone with her, took her time getting her gym bag and water bottle, hoping Summer would arrive soon. No luck, even after a pretty decent attempt at stalling. Delaney steeled herself and got out of the car.
“Hey,” she said, barring any trace of enthusiasm from her voice.
“Hey,” Josie responded, without looking up or changing position. Delaney had known Josie for almost twenty years, but she still hated having to force pleasantries when she was like this. So she skipped the pleasantries and went straight to the meat of the matter.
“So … is it official?” Delaney said. “Are you an applicant for the principal position?”
“No. I didn’t apply.”
“I thought you said today was the deadline.”
“It is,” Josie said.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“Josie, I –”
Josie pushed off the car and turned to face Delaney. Her eyes glittered like coal. “Look, don’t lecture me. That bitch Blair Upton is going to get that position. I can’t go through the next few weeks under her beady brown-eyed watch until she gets hired.”
“But who’s to say she’s going to get it?”
“She is. And Scott Smith. Who she’s probably going to sleep with, if she isn’t already.”
“This is ridiculous,” Delaney said, running a hand down Josie’s arm. “Numbe
r one, you want this position. And number two, you’re going to be great at it. Number three, you can’t let Blair Upton control your life. You need to go back to work and get your application in.”
When Josie didn’t answer, Delaney said, “Did you do this just so you wouldn’t have to work out?”
“Shut up, Delaney. No. I’m not applying. Why is Summer always late? Can’t we just get this over with, already?”
“Let’s go in and change.”
“Okay.”
Josie picked up her gym bag and they walked across the parking lot, but Delaney found she couldn’t let this one go.
“So when is the deadline to apply?” she asked.
“Today,” Josie said, her voice saturated with impatience.
“I know that, Josie. But I mean, what time?”
“Midnight.”
“How do they know if you turn it in by midnight?” Delaney said. “Nobody’s going to be at the office, are they?”
“It’s electronic. You do it all online. It’s the world we live in, Dee. Technology is remarkable.”
“So you could still go home and apply.”
“I’m not,” Josie said. “Stop talking about it.”
The locker room desperately needed a renovation. Cracked wooden benches stood on cracked white tile floors. Bright orange lockers, most of them covered with chipped and peeling paint, lined the walls.
“It stinks in here,” Josie said.
“It’s bad,” Delaney agreed. “Stop changing the subject.”
“You stop talking about the application. Okay?”
“What about the application?” Summer asked from the doorway.
Thank goodness. Reinforcements.
“She didn’t apply.” Delaney recapped the situation, and watched Summer’s indignation grow.
“Josefina Garcia,” Summer said. “You will apply for that position immediate— wait. Did you do this just so you wouldn’t have to work out?”
“No! Geez, you guys!” Josie said.
“Fine,” Summer said. “You will apply for that position right when we’re done here. Number one, you really want it. Number two, you’ll be great at it. Number three, you can’t let Blair Upton control your life.”