Page 92 of The Broken Heart Playlist
In the days leading up to Saturday, I’m outwardly normal. I’m a professional at work. I help Lisset with her homework. I visit my family and hold my own in conversations. But all the while, I’m thinking,Date with Gideon, Date with Gideon. It’s become a bit of a horror mantra. The closer the date, the more anxious I feel.
When last did I go out on a date? I’m a mom who wears sweatpants and hoodies most of the time. At work, I interact more with food than people.
I need help.
[MESSAGES]
Tess:Breaking news! My sister is going on a date and has requested a makeover.
Kenzie:This is so exciting!
Sofia:I’m going to need consent from Kate herself.
Kenzie:It’s not that we don’t trust you, Tess.
Sofia:It’s totally that we don’t trust you.
Tess:Seriously? You think I would do that to Kate?
Tess:Hello?
Tess:
[KATE ADDED TO GROUP CHAT]
Tess:Tell them!!!!
Kate:Kate here. Confirming I’m in over my head and need help.
Sofia:We’ve got you covered.
Kenzie:Help is on the way.
On Saturday morning, Tess and I set off for Sofia’s house, the designated location for mytransformation. Tess’s word, not mine. Tess is driving, because she insists I need to be in a relaxed frame of mind for my upcoming date tonight. But when we arrive at Sofia’s house, a cute little bungalow in a leafy, tucked-away area close to Brown Oak’s lake, there’s only one parking space available and my sister will have to parallel park into it.
Ten minutes later, whatever the opposite of relaxed is, I’m it. Times a hundred.
My fingers are itching to take over.
Abruptly, Tess stops the car in the middle of the street and drops her head onto the steering wheel. “I can’t do this,” she wails.
I’m in wholehearted agreement. She cannot parallel park. But I remind myself she’s doing a lot for me today, so I make an effort to be supportive. “Yes, you can.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why don’t you try again?” I encourage.
“I don’t know how.”
“Just get your angles right.”
“I feel like you’re judging me.”
I can’t hold it in any longer. “I am judging you! Why do you have to go backward and forward so many times?”
“The space is too small.”
I peer at the space in question. It’s not too small. I visited England once and the parking spaces there are ridiculously narrow. Apparently, they were designed when everyone in the country drove Minis.
