Page 16 of Not My Finest Hour

All these questions. It’s like living at home again. I turn toward Fern and look her in the eye. “Why are you so interested in my whereabouts?”

“Geez, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because the last time you went out you didn’t come home, and I didn’t hear from you until you came stumbling in the next morning?” She’s grinning, but there’s also a seriousness in her gaze.

“First of all, there was no stumbling. I was perfectly coherent. And second, I understand your concern, and I promise there will be none of that tonight. I’d be all right if I never had another one-night stand.” I turn back toward the mirror and give my hair one last fluff before sliding past Fern to grab my phone from my bed.

She turns so she’s facing me again and leans up against the doorjamb. “Why no more one-night stands? I thought yours wasn’t a bad time.”

“It wasn’t a bad time, but I think I did it more to prove to myself that I could move on from Alain. In a way, I think it helped, but I want more from a guy than just a one-time deal.”

The fact that I’m sharing all of this with Fern proves just how much our relationship has progressed in the time that we’ve been living together. A year ago, we wanted nothing to do with one another, and there was no way in hell I would’ve told her anything about my love life. There was always this underlying fear that somehow, she would use it against me. And even growing up we were never close. Honestly, I was shocked she asked me to move in with her, and I definitely didn’t make it easy on her at first. But since living with her, we’ve grown fairly close, and I see her as more of an ally than an enemy.

Fern nods and peels herself off the doorjamb. “That makes sense, and I hope tonight goes well for you.”

“What about you? Is Brett coming over tonight?”

“He’s on his way over now. We’re staying in tonight to watch a movie, and we’ll probably order pizza.”

“Yeah? You going to do anything else tonight?” I ask with a wink.

Fern’s cheeks redden, and her gaze drops to the floor. “Maybe.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to send you a courtesy text when I’m on my way home so I don’t walk in on you two.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she says. “I’ll leave you to finish getting ready. What time is Chelsea supposed to be here?”

“Should be any minute now,” I say, looking down at my phone for the time. While my screen is on, an incoming text pops up. “Actually, that’s her now. She’s parked on the street, waiting for me.”

Fern exits my bedroom out into the hallway, and I follow behind with my phone in hand. I don’t have to take a purse tonight because my phone case has slots for my driver’s license and a couple of credit cards. I don’t like using this case all the time because I have a habit of leaving my phone everywhere, but I like using it when I go out so I don’t have to keep track of a purse.

“Have fun tonight,” Fern says. She’s already sprawled out on the living room couch with her phone in hand, probably getting ready to text Brett to tell him the coast is clear. In the time that I was getting ready, she managed to put out a spread of snacks on the coffee table for their movie night. On my way out, I nab a few candy-coated chocolates from one of the bowls. She tries to smack my hand, but I’m too quick and pull my hand away before hers makes contact. I flash her a grin as I pop the candies into my mouth.

“I’ll send you a text once I know what bowling alley we’re going to,” I say. It’s the least I can do after the hell I put her through the last time I went out. I didn’t realize she’d worry so much. “And I’ll make sure to let you know once I’m on my way back.”

“Okay, now hurry up and get out of here before Chelsea starts honking.”

I shut the door behind me and head down the steps to where Chelsea is waiting for me. She’s in her luxury sports car which is most certainlynotthe same car she’s been driving since high school. Her dad bought her this car when she graduated college even though there was nothing wrong with the car she’d been driving. It’s not the first time she’s received such a lavish gift from her father. She’s been receiving gifts like this car all her life. It’s her father’s way of compensating for the fact that he’s been absent most of her life. Her father lives in San Francisco with his new wife and replacement children, as Chelsea calls them. The last time she saw her father was when he walked out on her and her mom when she was six.

Growing up, I used to be jealous of Chelsea because of all the fancy gifts she’d receive. And she was an only child so she didn’t have to share any of her stuff, and she sure as heck didn’t have to wear any hand-me-down clothes. But then I matured a little (okay, a lot), and realized that having two parents who were still very much in love was a far better gift than anything from a store.

I open the car door where the dome light illuminates Chelsea’s face. “Hey, there. Thanks for picking me up.”

“Hurry up and get in,” she says impatiently.

I plop down onto the passenger seat, and I’m not even buckled before she’s pulling away from the curb. “What’s your hurry?”

“I guess the guys are already at the bowling alley even though we agreed that we’d meet at seven-thirty.”

“Have they been at the bowling alley long?” It’s only ten after seven, so if they just got there, then they won’t have to wait long.

“They got there right around seven. I didn’t bother texting you because I was already on my way out the door to pick you up, and I was mad that they were there so early. I mean, who does that? Who shows up to a date a half hour early?”

“Maybe they thought traffic was going to be worse than it was, so they allowed for a lot more time than they needed.” As Chelsea drives, I notice that we’re headed toward State Route 520 which means we’re headed out of the city. “Where are we going anyway? Fern asked, and I realized you never told me what bowling alley we’re going to.”

“We’re going to Crossroads Bowling in Bellevue. And if traffic cooperates, we should be there in about twenty minutes.”

Traffic doesn’t cooperate, and instead of it taking us twenty minutes to get to the bowling alley, it takes us thirty, which is still pretty good considering Chelsea had to take a whole bunch of surface streets to get here. While we were stuck in traffic, she had me text the guys and tell them that we were going to be late. She didn’t want them to think we stood them up and leave without us ever getting the chance to meet.

Chelsea and I walk inside the bowling alley and find the shoe rental area. I scan the crowd with my gaze and wonder which of these men in here are our dates. Maybe it’s the two guys on the first lane who are trying to outdo one another with the most ridiculous ways to get the ball down the lane. They’re cute though, and at least these guys would be fun to be around.

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