Page 72 of A Better Place

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Tess says, smiling and lifting her shoulders excitedly. “Ladies, we have a date to help plan.”

For the next thirty minutes, they give me every idea they can come up with. From the ridiculously unattainable flying to New York City to see the Christmas lights to the little bit off-the-wall snow-tubing to the boring dinner and a movie, the girls and I talk about every scenario we can come up with. I want their help, but I also want this night to come from me. I want to make sure that whatever I do on our first date is something that she feels deeply.

“Oh! Take her paintballing! Remember that one movie where the guy takes the girl paintballing to get over the fake death of her dog?” Lauren says, looking around nodding her head like she came up with a brilliant plan. But it leads to my own plan, which is perfect.

“You are a genius. I’ve got it.” I say, suddenly having the best idea in the history of ideas.

“What is it?” Christine asks.

“Paintballing?” Lauren asks, as if she won the lottery.

“Nah, close though. Your idea helped. And I want Carly to be the first to know.”

“You. Butt. Head,” Lauren says.

“Payback for getting my girl tanked last night.”

“We didn’t know!” they all shout again.

“Besides, if you really want to split hairs here, her being drunk kind of led you to her saying yes, so you should be thanking us,” Tess says.

“Thank you. Now, I’ve got some phone calls to make.”

“James? Just to say… I want you to remember you don’t need to go crazy on tonight’s date. Simple is just as wonderful as extravagant,” Tess tells me, her voice soft.

“I know. And I appreciate you saying that.” I reach over and give her hand a light squeeze.

“You’re really not going to tell us?” Christine asks.

“I’m not. But it’s not because of last night,” I assure them. “Thank you, ladies. You were a huge help. I mean that.” I stand up and discard our trash then start for the door. I turn around and walk backward. “Wish me luck!” I say with my arms wide and a smile on my face that I just can’t seem to wipe away.

As soon as I get back to my apartment, I throw my coat on the single piece of furniture that I have here. I moved the couch in a couple days ago, sleeping on it rather than continuing to stay at Tess and Barrett’s. I haven’t sold my house yet and want to keep it staged, or at least that’s what my real estate agent told me. If it were up to me? I’d have all of my stuff moved to Liberty. One step closer to making it permanent.

For now, my apartment is pretty bare. The couch, what I need in the kitchen, all my clothes, and one TV, which I barely watch because I’m busy enough with getting Balance ready and spending as much time with Carly as she’ll give me.

I pull my phone from my pocket and dial a number I became very familiar with five years ago.

“Hello?” Harrison, the owner of The Shore, a restaurant along Lake Erie that has the best view on the lake, answers. The back of the restaurant is a wall of windows and one side of the building is a deck where people can eat outside when the weather permits, which unfortunately won’t be tonight. But the food is incredible, too, which is obviously a bonus.

“Harrison!”

“James! How’s it going, man? Long time!”

“It has. That’s not a bad thing in my business,” I remind him.

“True. True. But doesn’t mean you can’t come around once in a while,” he reminds me.

“Also true.”

“To what do I owe this phone call?”

“Well, here’s the deal. There’s this girl,” I say, a joking lilt to my voice.

He bursts out laughing. “There always is, man. There always is.”

“Not in my world,” I tell him.

“Oh so it’s that girl. I gotcha.”

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