Page 64 of More Than Pen Pals

“Love you, too, Mom.”

My intercom buzzes as I hang up the phone. I’m afraid it’s Glenn again, because I don’t think Wendy could be here yet, but I cross over to the panel by the door and answer in case it’s her.

“Buzz me up,” my friend orders.

I hit the button to unlock the front door. Then I open the apartment door a crack so she can let herself in, and I head back over to the bed.

Less than a minute later, Wendy enters. She’s wearing a skintight electric blue dress with hot pink stilettos. Her hair is teased to within an inch of its life, and there’s more makeup on her face than in the Marshall Field’s cosmetic department.

“Holy cow,” I say. “You look bangin’, but I hope you don’t expect me to look like that.”

She holds up a duffel bag. “Along with snacks and booze, I brought another outfit in case you weren’t feeling up to clubbing tonight.”

I sigh in relief. “I love you, Wendy O’Halloran.”

She’s strangely silent as she opens a bottle of wine and pours us each a glass. Then she hands me one, kicks off her shoes, and plops herself onto the bed next to me. “I’m guessing things didn’t go so well with Glenn?”

“No. Give me snacks.”

Wendy pulls a two-pack of Twinkies out of her duffel bag and tosses it at me.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” I tear the wrapper open and hope she doesn’t want me to share.

“About two minutes ago. Now tell me what happened with Glenn.”

I bite off a chunk of Twinkie, moan in appreciation, and mumble around the sugary goodness, “He’s here.”

Her gaze darts around the apartment, as if Glenn could possibly be somewhere in the minuscule space. I don’t even have a couch someone could hide behind.

I swallow. “Notherehere. But he was waiting outside when I got home from work.”

“No.”

“Yes. So I took him to the diner down the street.” I take another bite. “And then he proposed.”

Her eyes bug out. “He what, now?”

“He asked me to marry him. Had a ring and everything.”

“Okay, I need all the details. But I also need a Twinkie.”

Wendy grabs the second Twinkie before I can move it out of her reach, and she shoves it in her mouth.

After I tell her what Glenn said, she says, “Well, at least now you know you don’t want to get back together with him. I guess that’s one good thing to come out of that total insanity.”

“True. Got any other snacks in your bag?”

She pulls another package out of her duffel, and I gag. “Fig Newtons? Disgusting.”

“Glad you think so,” she smirks. “Now I get them all to myself.”

“You’re welcome to them.”

Then she presents me with a large bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. I grab them and hug them to my chest. I considered writing a letter of thanks to the Frito-Lay company when they released the new flavor a couple years ago.

“Your breath will stink if you eat those,” she says. “I almost didn’t bring them for that very reason, but I know you love them.”

“I don’t care if my breath smells. I’m not planning on kissing anyone tonight.” I tear open the bag and pop a chip into my mouth.

---