Page 9 of Sweeter Than Fiction

One thing I learned from my mom and sister is that usually, women want someone who just listens and is understanding rather than trying to fix things.

Another thing I learned is that rarely when a woman says that she’s fine is she actually fine.

Okay.

Time to go try to undo some damage.

With a bottle of wine in hand, I knock on Abby’s door and wait for a response. It takes a minute, but she finally opens it.

Her black dress has been replaced with some pajamas and a fluffy robe. Her face is still red and puffy, but now her tearful eyes are behind her glasses once again. Her hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head.

Sheer surprise covers her features. “You’re not my Chinese food.”

“Uh, no, I’m not.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Look, I know you said that I wouldn’t care about what happened tonight or what’s going on with you. And maybe I won’t understand, but I’m a hell of a good listener. Or if you don’t want to talk, I can maybe just try to cheer you up.”

She just keeps staring at me, trying to process everything I’m saying.

Holding up the wine, I add, “And I brought reinforcements.”

It just now occurs to me that I have no idea if she likes wine—or if she even drinks at all.

Maybe the wine was a bad idea.

She looks me up and down a couple more times.

“Okay, look, I’m a bit of a mess right now. I can’t promise that it’s going to get any better any time soon. But I am running low on wine.”

A wide smile crosses my lips. “Great.”

“But I have to warn you—I’m not changing my clothes, so you’re stuck with all this.” She gestures to herself. “And I’m pretty busy having an existential crisis, so you just need to jump on board.”

“Okay, deal.”

“One more question before I let you in.”

“Anything. Go for it.”

“How do you feel about Gilmore Girls?”

Chapter Five

Abby

I can’t believe that Don McDowell is in my apartment. After making a complete ass out of myself at the mailboxes, I had every intention of going to apologize…when I finally finished being a raging nut job. His showing up at my door with wine was not on my Bingo card.

Thank God I straightened up my apartment yesterday.

Taking the bottle of wine from him, I look it over as I walk to the kitchen. “Whoa. Looks fancy. Expensive?”

“No idea. I found it in a gift basket outside one of our neighbor’s doors,” he jokes.

That actually gets a laugh out of me. I’ve been so upset about my date and then in shock at Don’s arrival, that I haven’t even had time to ramp up my anxiety.

Give it time, Abby.

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