I don’t think she even stopped to breathe through any of that. I squeeze her back really hard, “It is so good to see you too, May! It’s been too long since I’ve been home.”
May looks lovely. Black slacks, a cream blouse with a skinny belt around the waist, and 3-inch heeled dress boots. Simple, but attractive, jewelry adds just the right amount of accent to her outfit. She doesn’t look her age of forty-nine at all. I only hope I age as well as she does. Or that I have a great plastic surgeon.
“What the hell? Don’t worry about saying hello to me! I’m just your daughter, no big deal!”
May immediately lets go of me and with a smile, pulls Pyper into a hug as well. “Hush with that mouth now, dear. You know I’m happy to see you too.”
“I know. I just couldn’t resist giving you a hard time.”
May links arms with both Pyper and me, and we stride in through the entrance. I look up from her smiling face and see Pyper’s dad, Ted, standing there with a smile on his face, while looking at his wife. The look that passes between them is so full of love. It just pours out of their eyes in a way that almost makes me want to look away from the intensity. He looks to me and smiles, his eyes sparkling.
“Olivia, it’s so good to see you. It has been far too long, my dear.” He hugs me as well, then turns to his daughter and hugs her too. “Hi, sweetheart. How’s business?”
Pyper let’s go of her mother, gives her dad a hug too, and says, “It’s great daddy, I was just there this morning and the place was hopping!”
“Come on in girls. We have everything ready. I hope you’re hungry!” May leads us through the house to the kitchen.
We walk inside the front double doors and enter the foyer. There is a glass table directly in front of us, and a huge chandelier hanging overhead. The floor tiles glisten and are so sparkly, I’m sure you could eat off of them. To the left of the front doors is a curving staircase with black iron railings on either side of the stairs in a beautiful scrolling pattern that lead to the upper floor. Maneuvering around the table and passing the staircase, we walk straight ahead and come to the living room, but take a right and start walking through their chef’s caliber kitchen until we get to the dining room. The dining room is beautiful. Decorated in a dark blue and white, there is a large oak table smack in the middle of the room that seats no less than twelve people. One wall is nothing but glass windows with double doors that lead out to the garden. We walk toward that end of the table and take a seat.
We are barely seated before Mrs. B, who has worked for the Lexington’s forever, but still manages to look exactly the same age, comes out of the kitchen carrying our salads and drinks. She kisses me on the head as she sets my salad in front of me and whispers, “Good to see you dear.”
I smile at her and say, “You too,” and start digging in. I’m famished!
After we finish our salads, we are served broccoli quiche, with fresh fruit, and rolls that Mrs. B no doubt made that morning. My favorite part is the honey butter she makes to go with the rolls. To. Die. For. Everything tastes wonderful, and I’m having a great time catching up, filling them in on the Deacon drama, most of which they already know from Pyper, when May says, “Guess who I ran into the other day?”
“No idea mom. The possibilities are endless.” Pyper smiles slightly at her mother but looks at me and rolls her eyes.
I smile to myself until May says, “I saw Luke Easton when I was coming out of Water Tower Plaza. He looks marvelous. I told him about your return Olivia and he seemed very interested! Do you plan to see him since you’re back?”
I choke on my lemonade. Pyper starts pounding my back in assistance, sending me a look that oozes with apologies. The food in my belly suddenly feels sour. May knows of my history with Luke, why would she think I would want to see him? Do I want to see him? NO! I don’t want to see him. Right? Dammit!
“MOM! Why would you ask her that? Of course Olivia doesn’t want to see Luke.”
“Oh dear, I’m sorry. It’s just that so much time has passed, I figured maybe things have changed. It’s water under the bridge. I just remember how he tried desperately to find out where you had gone all those years ago, and…oh I don’t know…it would be nice if you two could reconnect and maybe work things out.”
“That is a nice thought, May, but I’m not interested in taking steps backward. Luke and I…” I feel kind of choked up and I don’t know why. Man. May’s revelation is really doing a number on my emotions. Pyper is staring at me and I know I’m going to be asked some questions later. I can just feel it. “Well, what I mean to say is that Luke and I were a long time ago, a lot has changed. I know I’m a different person now, and I’m sure he is too. I’m not interested in reconnecting.”
May just smiles at me, and Ted changes the subject by asking me about the magazines I’m writing for right now. Have I mentioned Ted is awesome?
Except for the unexpected, and momentarily uncomfortable conversation at the table, we had a nice time visiting, and before we know it, we are out the door with containers full of leftover food from May and Mrs. B, with promises that we will be back again soon to visit.
“It was really great to see them. It makes me miss my own parents, though. I hope you don’t mind if I just borrow yours until I see mine again!”
“Are you kidding? They would love that.” Pyper hesitates and then she says, “So, about what my mom said…”
I interrupt her before she can continue, “There’s nothing to talk about. You know that was all a long time ago.”
“I know it was, but there is something you aren’t telling me. I saw your face. You were surprised by her running into Luke, obviously, but at the same time, you weren’t shocked. I can’t explain what I saw in your face, exactly, but I know you well enough to know something is going on there. So what gives? What aren’t you telling me?”
Sometimes I wish she didn’t know me so well. I sigh. “It’s just since I’ve been back here Luke has crossed my mind a lot. I’m sure that being back has allowed all the thoughts and feelings I suppressed to reemerge. I don’t think you ever forget your first love, or the person you thought was going to be your lifemate, you know what I mean? I know you don’t ever forget your first heartbreak either. I still remember it all, Pyper. I remember his face, his kisses, his touch, how he made me feel like I couldn’t breathe, because I was so overwhelmed by the mere existence of him. He was all consuming. I know some would say I was so young, and what do I really know about that, but it was real. I felt it. It mattered.”
Tears start gathering in my eyes. Shit. “I guess what I don’t understand is why it still hurts. It’s painful, and I think that is what bothers me. It has been seven years, Pyper. Seven years! Why does it still hurt? Why do I still remember it in such vivid detail? I can’t help but wonder what the hell is wrong with me!”
“Nothing is wrong with you, Olivia. It makes sense that you would think about him, especially with you being back here. You’ve rarely visited Chicago since the day you left seven years ago. Other than the time you came and visited me for the spa grand opening, you’ve only been here a handful of other times. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“It isn’t just that. I mean, what is wrong with me when it comes to men? The two men I’ve had serious relationships with in my life, both broke my heart. The sad thing is, I was married to Deacon, yet thinking about Luke, and what happened between us hurts more. I guess I should just be happy that I quit being blind where Deacon was concerned, and be grateful I divorced his ass for his complete douche-baggery.”
“Douche-baggery?”
“Yep. Douche-baggery. Own it. Use it. Love it.”
Pyper laughs at my comment but turns serious again as she says, “There isn’t anything wrong with you. The problem is with them. Luke is the one that is to blame for your break up. Not you. All you are guilty of is giving him your heart and loving him. As far as Deacon goes, he’s a controlling asshole that couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. Y
ou didn’t do anything wrong there either. Don’t take on their ‘douche-baggery’. Make them own it. The problem is all theirs.”
“You are right, but while the problem is theirs, the fact is, the effects touch me, and I’m still feeling it all again and again, although I wish I wasn’t.”
“Well I know just the thing to help with that you know! The answer is right in your grasp. “
I just look at her and she nods towards my phone that I didn’t even realize I was holding in my hand. “As soon as we get home, time to pull up those messages! Time for you to go on a date.”
yper and I have barely stepped inside the front door of the condo before she instructs, “Go grab your laptop.”
When I walk inside my bedroom to grab my laptop, I take a minute to kick off my boots and put my handbag down before joining Pyper in the living room. I join her on the floor, side by side, with our computers propped on the coffee table once again.
I pull up my email program and just stare at the screen full of unread emails from ‘Date Me’ and blink.
I bite my bottom lip, “I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten even more responses since the last time I looked. I’m feeling overwhelmed. I’m just not sure about this.”
“Oh chill out, it’s okay. Let me take a look.” Pyper grabs my computer and starts going through each one and I hear her mumbling to herself, “No. No. Oh, hell no. Hmm. Maybe. Cute. Oh! Nice.”
I can’t help but giggle at her. This is crazy.
Whatever she’s doing takes time, so I admire the magnificent view outside the window while I’m waiting for her. After several moments, she turns my computer back towards me. “Okay, out of all those emails you had a welcome email from ‘Date Me’, another one reminding you of their rules and guidelines, a few asking you to answer various questions that can be posted on your profile, and then there were several emails notifying you that you received a kiss.”
“A kiss?”
“Yes, a kiss. If someone views your profile and likes it, he can send you a kiss.”
“Okay. That’s interesting. How do you even know about these virtual kisses?”
“Because unlike you, after we completed our profiles, I took some time to read about how it all works.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Anyway,” she sounds a bit exasperated with me. “I left ten profiles for guys that sent messages to you that I think look promising. Take a look at their messages and their profiles, and narrow it down. Whomever you think you might be interested in, message them back! That’s what I’m going to do too.”
I’m skeptical about this whole thing, but I will humor her. I read their messages and then pull up their profiles and read through them, taking note of their likes and dislikes and what they tell me about their personalities in general. I delete one because he’s a smoker, and I’m not a fan. I delete another because he’s a big horror movie fan, and I’m way too much of a wimp for that, even previews on TV for horror movies freak me out. A few guys have horrible quotes on their pages that just make them look like they are trying way too hard. No thanks. That leaves five promising possibilities.
“Oh. Pyper. Umm. Look at this one.” A gorgeous blond-haired, blue-eyed man is smiling at me from his profile picture. “His profile name is NoahA and he is beautiful.”
Pyper laughs at me. “What else does it say?”
I laugh. “I don’t care. Does it really matter? He’s beautiful.”
Pyper laughs again, “Yes it matters and you know it!”
“I could just go on a date with him and stare at him the whole time and be happy.”
Pyper sighs this time and turns my computer towards her, “Well his likes are reading, playing flag football, painting and it says his occupation is a landscape architect. Hmm interesting combination, he’s artsy and athletic. Well, message him back and ask him about getting together.”
“Aye, aye cap’n” and when I salute her she laughs.
I message him back and over the next few hours Pyper and I laugh as we go through our matches and read our messages. I’ve narrowed it down to four men that I am interested in and message them back. Aside from NoahA, I also reply to a JaketheSnake, Ethan, the man I saw when we made our profiles, and another named DanielCubsFan. I’ve chosen them based on their interests and some of the questions they’ve answered. It appears that we could be good matches. And they’re pretty to look at. I admit it. Lame screen name for Jake aside.
“Okay, how many do you have it narrowed down to, Pyper? I’ve sent responses to three that I would consider meeting if they get back to me.”
“I have five that I’ve responded to. Their profile names are Dale90, JayH, BlakeE, SethBearsFan1, and Cooper88.”
I admit, I’m surprised because Pyper is damn picky! Feeling accomplished and pretty proud of myself for taking the leap back into the dating world, I prepare to shut down my computer. Before I get far into the shutting down process, a blinking on the far left side of the screen catches my eye. Looking closer, next to my profile avatar, I see that a blinking light notifying me that I have a new message. I click on it, and find a response from DanielCubsFan.
“I got a response!” I squeal slightly in my excitement. Aw hell. What is wrong with me? I may have to admit that I’m actually enjoying this and even a bit excited.
“Well, open it!” I feel somewhat better about my reaction when I hear the same excitement in Pyper’s voice.
I open the message and read out loud, “Hi Olivia. I’m so glad you responded to my message. I would love to meet you. Perhaps we could save time and meet in person instead of spending unneeded hours on the phone. Would you be available to go out to dinner some night this week or next? If so, please message me your phone number and we can make arrangements. I look forward to hearing from you.”
Pyper, who is looking over my shoulder points to my screen, “Look, it shows that he is active right now, which means he is online. Click this button and you can chat with him right now to make plans.”
“What? No! I’ll just message him again!”
“No way, Olivia! You are not going to chicken out on me! Live chat!”
“Damn you, Pyper Lexington!”
I click the button that allows me to private message Daniel and I start typing, ‘Hi I just got your message. I would love to arrange a day and time to meet; my calendar is pretty open, as my work allows for a flexible schedule. What night works best for you?’
“How’s that Pyper?”
“Good! Send it.”
I push the button that reads send, and within seconds I get a response. Ah, I’m giddy!
“He says, ‘Hi Olivia. I’m so glad to hear from you again. How about this Thursday night at seven o’clock?’ What do I say?” I ask Pyper, my voice sounding high pitched due to my nervousness.
Pyper laughs at me! “Tell him you are game.”
I start typing a response, “Sure, Thursday night would be perfect. Do you have a specific place in mind you’d like to meet?”
We message back and forth a couple more times, making arrangements to meet at Maggiano’s, an Italian restaurant in Little Italy that is one of my favorites, and exchange phone numbers.
“OH MY GOD, PYPER!! I HAVE A DATE ON THURSDAY NIGHT! WHAT THE HELL AM I GONNA WEAR?!” I screech.
Pyper laughs really hard at my reaction, which only serves to aggravate me. “Don’t laugh at me! Can you not see I’m freaking out and panicking here?!”
“You have plenty of amazing outfits you can wear. We will get it all figured out!”
I just sit and stare at my computer for a little bit. Once I’m over the original shock of having a date so soon, I tell Pyper, “Okay, now let’s get a date scheduled for you too!” And just as I say this, Pyper is chattering excitedly because she has received a response. Admittedly, I’m distracted.
Holy hell. I have a date.
Thursday night has arrived and I am REALLY nervous. There are butterflies on steroids in my stomach. I mean, why did I let Pyper talk me into this? Can I ple
ad temporary insanity? Peer pressure? But then, I think about standing Daniel up or cancelling last minute and I know I can’t do that. I’m sure once I get there, I will be fine. I just wish the nervous feeling in my stomach would go away. I feel like I could be sick.
I look at myself in my floor-length mirror. Maggiano’s is a very nice place, so I am dressed up to suit the atmosphere. I’m wearing my cranberry, silk, sleeveless dress by Marc Jacobs that I bought at an off-the-rack department store last year. It has a full skirt, a sweet bow on the front on the left side and a round neckline that shows just a hint of cleavage but is still rather chaste. I have a black, cropped cardigan with embellished roses around the collar to go over it, and my black satin peep toe heels to match the cardigan. My makeup is done nicely, with a smoky eye, cheeks that look barely flushed and a nude gloss on my lips. My long, dark hair is down, flat ironed, and is laying nice and smooth down my back.
I look pretty, I think. I’d want to date me.
I walk into my bedroom, grab my leopard bag, and quickly pull everything out and place it on my bed, grabbing only what I need for the evening and stuff it into my black Kate Spade handbag, a gift from my mother. As I’m doing this, Pyper knocks on the door and I tell her to come in.
“Hey, can I borrow….” She stops speaking when she gets a good look at my appearance, “Wow, you look great!”
I look at Pyper and smile, checking her out in return, because she has a date tonight too. Cooper is taking her to Ambria, an amazing French restaurant. I wish we were going to the same place and could make it a double. That would help with my nerves tremendously, but I’m not a baby, I don’t need my hand held. I think.
Pretty Little Lies Page 7