Page 52 of Friendshipped
I take a deep breath. “I’m sure Joshua’s nice.”
I’m not sure at all. I’m trying to humor Memaw while figuring out a way to kindly say, “No thank you.”
As I brainstorm, Memaw continues listing what she thinks are his desirable attributes.
“… and he has nice teeth—clean, white, straight. Teeth say a lot about a person, you know.”
“I didn’t,” I say almost to myself.
“Your grandfather had magnificent teeth,” Memaw says with an airy note to her voice. “No cavities either.”
She sighs. Shakes her head. “I still miss him every day.”
“I do too.”
Theirs was a love for the ages. And the older they got, the more adorable their affection for one another seemed to me.
Memaw lets out a long sigh. “Anyway, this Joshua is also tall which is always nice, unless you’re extra short, which you aren’t. Have you ever seen one of those couples where the woman looks like she needs a step stool just to kiss her man? That’s love and commitment for you. And, more power to them. I’m just saying if you have a choice from the outset, you ought to pick nice teeth and a height that isn’t inconvenient.
“But, that’s neither here nor there. I’m speaking of this Joshua. He’s either a doctor, or a lawyer, or maybe he’s in politics. No. He’s definitely not in politics. If he were, I wouldn’t have given him one of my lemon cupcakes. You can’t trust those politicians. Or lawyers, come to think of it. No. He’s definitely a doctor. That’s why he got a cupcake.”
It should be noted here that Memaw’s desserts are nothing like her main dishes, which always seem like a group of preschoolers conspired to write the recipes.
My grandma can out-bake most of the women in our county. Memaw’s cupcakes are a hot commodity. If she gave one to Joshua, he might be worth giving a chance.
Plus, he’s got nice teeth.
I laugh to myself.
Gotta love the bar my grandma set. If I’m truthful, I’m tired of my raisiny love life. I just may give this another shot. Especially since Memaw already met Joshua.
18
Trevor
About a half-hour after coming home from work, I’m pulling out of our driveway to head over to the Abrams’ to pick Meg up for dinner.
Lexi’s not the woman I should be thinking of right now. Not when I’m about to see Meg again for the first time in years. I know Lexi’s wrecked me. She owns me. I can’t even go on a platonic date without bringing her with me in my thoughts.
She’s driven me to instigating fake middle of the night gardening projects just so I can scare off her dates. I’m so wrecked, I’m like the titanic of friends. I’m sunk for her. And I think I’d rather be in lopsided love with Lexi than get over her and settle for anyone else.
I sit in my car, staring at Meg’s front door, trying to get my head on straight. My hands are a bit clammy and my heart feels too tight inside my chest as I walk up her walkway.
Our breakup wasn’t mean or angry. We came to a point where we realized we were not in love enough to make a long-distance thing worth the effort and sacrifice when we graduated high school. So, we amicably called it off. I can’t say I thought too much about Meg after we broke up. I was young and eager to start my new adventure at OSU. I’m not sure what to expect now.
When I step onto the porch, the door flies open as if someone had been waiting and watching for me.
“Trevor!” Meg shouts as she hurls herself at me.
I brace my legs for her onslaught and catch her without falling over—just barely. I stumble a little and regain my footing while Meg clings to me like a sock out of the dryer.
“Sorry! Sorry!” she says as she peels back and we both find our bearings.
“No problem,” I say. “Good to see you Meg. You look great.”
She does look great. Her blond hair is longer than it was when we dated, wavy and down around her shoulders. She’s a little tan, and not in an Oompa Loompa way. She’s wearing jeans and a white blouse with some lace on the edges and she has on some sort of sandals with heels.
“Trevor.”
