Thirty-Three Going On Girlfriend (The Spinster Series Book 2)

by Becky Monson

  The music switches to a slow song and the dance floor fills with couples, holding each other and swaying together to the music. Perfect.

  “May I?” A hand reaches out in front of me. I look up to see my dad.

  “Sure,” I say, standing up and following him to the dance floor.

  “You don’t seem like yourself lately, Julia,” my dad says once we are moving in slow circles on the dance floor. My dad knows about my two left feet and is keeping it simple.

  I give him what I’m sure is a very vacant smile. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

  “Is it anything to do with Jared not being here?” he asks.

  I look down quickly, not wanting to make eye contact, which is pretty much a non-verbal way of telling him that I’m about to lie. Hopefully he’s not that astute and doesn’t pick up on it.

  “No, everything is fine, I’m just tired,” I say and look up at him again after I get the lie out. It’s not entirely a lie. I’m really tired.

  He gives me a closed-mouth smile. I think he knows I’m lying, but he doesn’t press further, which I’m grateful for.

  The rest of the night, I’m able to stay in the shadows, avoiding as much as I can. Jonathon asks me to dance with him and we only make it through half of a song before Anna cuts in. I’m left out on the dance floor without a partner only momentarily before Lennon steps in.

  “So I guess we are now related to Jonathon,” I say to Lennon as we make our way around the dance floor to the slow song that is playing.

  “I guess so,” he raises his eyebrows high on his head.

  “And how do you feel about that?” I say, knowing that Lennon wasn’t a fan either and wondering if like me, he’s changed his mind.

  “I think he’ll fit in just fine,” he says, smiling slightly. “He just needs to remember to stay away from you when you’ve had champagne.”

  “Hey!” I protest and then slap him on the shoulder with my hand. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” I concede quickly. It’s the truth after all.

  Soon after dancing with Lennon, the DJ announces that it’s toast time, so I make my way over to the microphone to give my speech—the speech I so lovingly prepared for my baby sister, for her wedding day.

  The speech I forgot about until just now.

  I would totally freak out, only there is no time to freak out, so I’ll have to do what my speech professor in college told me never to do (not the class, just me). I’ll have to wing it.

  Heaven help me.

  “Um, hello, everyone,” I say nervously, after the DJ hands me a cordless mic. The entire room’s attention is turned to me.

  I can totally do this. Not really, but I’ll delude myself into believing it, and maybe it will actually happen.

  “So, Anna, Jonathon,” I say, motioning toward them. “Here we are. Your wedding day.”

  Crickets. Chirping. Seriously, no one is even talking. Everyone is paying attention to me, waiting for beautiful, melodious words to come from my mouth, and not only do I have nothing prepared, but I have nothing coming to me.

  Think, Julia, think.

  “Anna,” I start, “you look so beautiful today, and you too Jonathon. I mean, you don’t look beautiful, you look handsome . . .” I trail off with a nervous laugh. Someone in the crowd of people surrounding me stifles a giggle.

  MAYDAY! MAYDAY! Abort! Abort!

  But I can’t abort. Everyone is holding their flutes of champagne, waiting for me to say something poignant, so they can say “Here, here!” and drink.

  Anna gestures at me with her facial expression that I need to say something - anything better than what I’ve said.

  I take a deep, obvious, breath. Here goes nothing.

  “When Anna came to my apartment just three months ago and announced that she was going to marry Jonathon, she definitely caught me off guard. They had only been dating for just over three months at that point. I was a little in shock and because of that, I don’t think I gave her the proper congratulations that a big sister should give to her baby sister when she finds out she’s getting married. So I’m going to make up for that now.” I take a deep breath and pause for dramatic effect, and also to buy me some time to get my words straight.

  “Anna, I’m so incredibly happy for you. You have truly found your soul mate in Jonathon, and I know that he will make you happier than you have ever been because I see how you look at each other. I don’t need to tell you to cherish one another or to be there for each other because I know you will be. You have found in six months what some people search a lifetime for.” I pause to swallow the large lump that is forming in the bottom of my throat and my eyes well up as I see Anna’s doing the same. “I love you both,” I finally choke out.

  “So here’s to Anna and Jonathon!” I say as I raise my glass, and everyone in the room joins me.

  I walk over to my sister and her new husband after my toast and give them each a big hug, to which an audible “ah” runs through the crowd.

  I hug Anna just a little longer than Jonathon because it’s a rare moment when we allow this kind of thing to happen, and I want to cherish it and remember it forever.

  “That was perfect,” she whispers in my ear before we let go.

  In your face, college speech professor! I can so totally wing it. In fact, that was probably the most perfect off-the-cuff toast ever given. Well, it was for me, at least.

  At the end of the night, we light sparklers and line up, holding them out as Jonathon and Anna run through them to their car and then drive off. It was a fairytale ending to a fairytale wedding, I’d say. The rehearsal may have been full of drama, but the wedding itself went off without a hitch.

  I made it. I made it through this day without taking anything away from Anna or burdening anyone with my drama. Now I just have to make it home so I can curl up with Charlie and have a good cry. I think I’ve earned it.

  CHAPTER 27

  “This is so exciting,” my mom says as she sits down on the couch in my parents’ living room.

  My parents decided that it would be fun to throw a big party for the premier of my stint on Cupcake Battles. I tried to warn them that they could end up mortified, but they didn’t believe me, and my contract forbade me from giving them details. At least they can’t say I didn’t warn them when the phallic display I created shows up on their very large-screen television.

  They’ve invited neighbors, and Lennon is here with Jenny and Liam, of course. Anna is still on her honeymoon and won’t be back for another few days. Brown was going to come but couldn’t make it. I was hoping she would so I could get her alone and tell her about everything that has happened with Jared. As it stands, I haven’t even seen her since she got home a couple of days ago. She’s been so busy catching up with work and newlywed life that she hasn’t had a second to spare. I guess I’ll just have to wait for Anna. Thank goodness, because of Jonathon’s loyalty to the firm, they were only able to get away for a little more than a week. No month-long European vacation for them.

  I desperately need to talk to Anna. I feel like I might explode at any moment. I haven’t even told Patti and Debbie, for fear that they would lecture me on my stupidity. They would never see that this was the right thing to do. I’m not sure I even see it. The last thing I need to do is follow their crazy romantic advice, only to have it blow up in my face.

  Speaking of Patti and Debbie, I wanted them to come to my parents’ party tonight, but Patti decided to have a party of her own and Debbie wouldn’t say where she would be. I’m willing to bet all of my worldly possessions that she’s with George. She has still not admitted to seeing him romantically and I haven’t had the nerve to ask her about it because she will know how I found out. She seems very content these days, which does make me happy for her, even though in my heart of hearts I hate everything about love and relationships right now. But that’s probably just my problem.

  “It’s starting!” My dad says loudly, and everyone comes in and takes a seat. The couche
s are filled, and they have brought in chairs from the kitchen and dining room for extra seating. I look around the room as everyone sits down. I guess I didn’t realize how many people were here. It’s pretty crowded.

  “Welcome to Cupcake Battles,” Franky Jackson croons with his sexy made-for-television voice.

  Well, ready or not, here we go.

  ~*~

  My mother is in tears. She can’t stop crying. “Oh, Julia, you won! How did you keep that a secret from us?” she says as she’s hugging me. Everyone is cheering and gathering around to congratulate me. My mom stands back and everyone starts taking turns shaking my hands and giving me hugs.

  I feel like a superstar. And for one night, I sort of am. Seeing myself on the screen was both exhilarating and horrifying. Parts of it, I was actually proud of myself for how I looked on screen and how I handled the tasks given to me. But during some parts, I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. Like the part where I lost my Rock Star drink in the trash can - that was a super bad part. Well, at least for me, it was. Everyone else was delighted and laughed hysterically at my expense. But that’s what the producers wanted people to do. So I gave them a good show, I suppose.

  The other parts that were not so pretty were the portions of my audition tape that they chose to use for the show. I cringed until I couldn’t cringe any more. It was, in a word, excruciating. Somehow though, everyone in the room found it to be delightful and well done. I guess hopped-up-on-Percocet makes for a more interesting Julia? I thought I was annoying and I was totally slurring my words. Regardless, I won’t be trying that again to find out. Not any time soon, anyway.

  The phallic cupcake display wasn’t half as bad as it was in the studio. They edited so that only parts of it were shown and rarely the full display. Although a sidebar interview from Josef had him in hysterics as he said it looked like a cupcake-filled penis to him. Nice.

  As suspected, Patti was the star of our duo. At least I thought she was. She was clever and down-right-Southern adorable. Every time she was on the screen, giggles would start even before she said anything. They just knew it was coming.

  It was very interesting (and enlightening) to see what the other competitors were saying about me behind my back during their interviews. Of course, Cool Cakes had nothing good to say, and at the end, they were so devastated by the loss that they both kept crying during the final interview. I don’t think this was good advertising for them. Or maybe it was the best advertising ever. People love a good train wreck, and they were definitely a train wreck. They might be evil geniuses, actually.

  “Good job, Julie-Bear,” my dad says as he hugs me. Since he’s invested in the bakery, this is a win for both of us. I’m really interested to see the kind of business it brings in. I hope it was all worth it.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out and see that I have text from Jared. My stomach drops immediately and my heart starts pounding. This is the first I’ve heard from him since the rehearsal dinner nearly a week ago.

  With shaky hands, I click on the text to open it up.

  Saw the show. You did a great job.

  I quickly text back.

  Thanks. It wasn’t half as embarrassing as I expected. :)

  My phone quickly sounds again. Another text from Jared.

  I miss you.

  Oh, gosh, my heart seriously aches when I read those words. I don’t know if I’ve ever missed someone so much in my life. To say it back to him is an understatement for how I’ve been feeling. Why did this long-distance thing have to happen?

  I miss you too.

  I text it to him anyway.

  I stare at my phone hoping for it, or rather willing it, to beep again, but it’s silent. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of something. We could be friends. I seriously hate that word, especially if it has to do with Jared, but if it keeps me in touch with him, then I’ll take it.

  ~*~

  The next morning, I finally get to post the sign in my window that says I’m a Cupcake Battles winner. A winner! That’s not something I’ve been able to say much about myself. That sounds pathetic and sad, but honestly, it just makes me appreciate this win all the more. If I won at everything, then this would be just another win and not as huge as it is.

  I walk back into the kitchen and tell Debbie and Patti that I’ve just put up the sign. They both clap and cheer, and Patti proclaims something Southern that I’m pretty sure meant happy.

  “Since we are declaring such happy things, I guess I should admit something to you,” Debbie says. The red immediately starts creeping up her face. “I’ve been seeing George.”

  “So? We see him every day,” Patti says, sounding confused.

  “I mean George and I are dating,” she rephrases and then smiles sheepishly.

  “Well, it’s about darn time!” Patti says, walking over and throwing her arms around her, careful to keep her flour-covered hands away from her hair. She stands back. “See? I’m always right.” She puts a hand on her hip and pops it out, a very know-it-all stance.

  “Congratulations, Debbie,” I say and mean it. I’m glad she’s happy. She deserves it. “Now, if you could just find a different meeting place to get together, other than my bakery,” I say and cock my head slightly to the side, pursing my lips together as I out her for doing naughty things in my store.

  “Oh,” she declares, putting a hand over her mouth.

  “What?” Patti asks, not understanding.

  “The sock? The hair-clip? I found them in the bakery because Debbie and George have been meeting up here after hours.” I raise my eyebrows as I tilt my head briefly, gesturing toward a now beet-red Debbie. Mortification would be an understatement. She looks positively sick. I suddenly feel horrible that I’ve embarrassed her so.

  “Debbie!” Patti yells her name, but then admiration washes over her face. “Well, well. I didn’t know ya had it in ya, ya old bag.” She laughs lightheartedly.

  “Oh, you . . .” Debbie trails off, batting a hand at her.

  I put an arm around her. It’s the least I can do after causing her so much trauma. “I’m happy for you,” I say and grin at her.

  “So how did it happen?” Patti asks Debbi.

  We all get back to work as Debbi tells us how she and George came to be. After Patti had told her to go for him, she started thinking about it, and then it was like the universe had heard and brought them together because the very next day, George asked her out for coffee. They hit it off from there. Apparently, both of them have adult children living at their homes (I knew this was the case for Debbie, but obviously not about George), and so the bakery was the best place for them to meet up where they could hide out and be alone, much to my grossed-outed-ness.

  “I’m sorry, Julia,” she said, her eyes lowering to the floor sheepishly.

  “Don’t worry,” I said, putting her mind at ease. I’m not that upset by it, justslightly uncomfortable. “I’m just glad you’re happy. Anyway, now that you’ve outed yourself, can’t you finally tell your kids?”

  “I guess we probably should. I just don’t know how mine will take it, since this is the first time I’ve dated someone since Roger died,” she says, somberly.

  “Oh, they will be happy for ya,” Patti says. “You’ll see.”

  The morning goes quickly as we work. Patti and I throw out a few jabs about Debbie and George, and Debbie acts insulted even though I know she’s loving it. New relationships are so fun. But once the honeymoon phase is over and reality starts settling in, then one person moves across the country and everything is ruined. Okay, well that may only be my experience. But still, the honeymoon part doesn’t last forever.

  The front of the shop is much busier today. I think we are already seeing the effects of Cupcake Battles, which is exciting and slightly overwhelming. If the pace keeps up, I’ll have to hire someone else for sure. It will take a strong person to make us want to turn our trio into a quartet. The thought of adding someone to our group makes me kind of s
ad. We have a good thing going, Debbie, Patti and I.

  “Hello, Julia,” a sappy-sweet voice says.

  “Oh, hello, Lia,” I say, willing my aura to appear bright and happy. I’m not sure that’s even possible, but I don’t need her reading my aura or bringing any more of her bad juju into my life. Just because she’s usually right doesn’t mean I have to like it.

  “I had a dream about you,” she says, slightly raising her eyebrows.

  “You did?” I question. I don’t really want to know the details of her dream. I’m sure it will be off-putting no matter what.

  “Yes. You were with a tall, dark, and handsome stranger.” She gives me an insinuating stare. It’s unsettling, actually.

  “Oh,” I say, not quite as put-off as I thought I’d be. “What was I doing with this tall, dark, and um, handsome stranger?”

  “I’m not sure, exactly. I think you were on a date or something,” she says matter-of-factly. Obviously, she thinks this dream is going to come to pass. I highly doubt it. I do not see any tall, dark, and handsome strangers in my future.

  “Well, thank you for telling me,” I say, wanting to be done with this so she doesn’t tell me anymore of the dream. I’m worried that the rest of the dream consisted of this tall, dark, and handsome stranger killing me in some way.

  “What can I get for you today?” I ask, signaling to the line of people that has been growing behind her.

  She places her order with no more words about her dream or my aura or anything thing else that’s hocus-pocus-y, thank goodness. I don’t even have the time or the desire to dwell on the tall, dark, and handsome stranger dream.

  Later in the afternoon, Patti, Debbie, and I all sit down in the front the bakery and I let out a loud sigh. What a day. It was one of our busiest ever, and people actually wanted to take pictures with me! Pictures! I felt like a star. I didn’t even care that there are probably lazy-eyed pirate pictures of me now floating out on the Internet.