Page 19 of Lovebug
“You, um—you were saying something about Saturday night, Calliope?” I continue completely out of breath, trying to act as though my bizarre behavior is totally normal.
“Alright, that’s it, weirdo. Saturday night. I’m in town. And I’m staging an intervention.”
“An intervention? For who?” I ask as I continue to hobble my way toward the canteen.
“For you. Your usual sunny disposition is all sorts of tweaked.”
“What? I’m psyched to see you, but I’m fine. I don’t need an intervention. Besides, don’t interventions only work if they are a surprise attack?”
“Surprise!” Calliope sings. “You’re getting attacked with an intervention.” Her voice drops to a more serious tone. “Something’s clearly shifting in you, Mabes, and—I realize this isn’t exactly my MO when it comes to our newly formed friendship—but I’m concerned.”
I don’t say this to her, but after the events of the past two days?
I’m concerned about me too.
Chapter Four
“And that is how I achieved Triple Platinum Double Encrusted Diamond Level after only two years in The Business.”
Doreen is finishing her spiel while our three newest team members lightly applaud, just as I rush into the coffee shop and take the open seat next to Bert.
He hands me an iced matcha latte, gives my thigh a squeeze, and whispers, “How’s the tooth?”
“Good. Fine,” I whisper back like it’s no big deal even though it still hurts quite a bit. “Put a temporary cap on it until they can get me a permanent one. Hey, um, do you have a few minutes to talk after this? Something I need to run by you.”
Bert fidgets slightly in his seat, but says, “Yeah. Of course, baby. I always have a few minutes for you.”
“Everyone,” Doreen announces, “I’d like you to meet my daughter-in-law, Mabel.”
“Daughter-in-law?” the pretty woman in her early thirties seated to my right says, her head cocked in confusion.
“Soon-to-be, yup!” I chirp, then flash my ring at the table and give Bert an overly enthusiastic kiss.
I love my fiancé. I love my fiancé. I love my fiancé.
When I come up for air, I smile at the three new-to-me faces at the table and give them a waggy two-handed wave. “Hey there! Welcome to the team. We’re so happy to have you on board! My apologies for being a tad tardy. Final day of orientation at the summer camp where I’m head counselor this year, and wowza, teenagers are tough! Anyone here have a teen?”
A woman in workout gear raises her hand from where she sits next to Doreen.
“Well, bless your soul, spandex lady. I salute you!” Then I do, in fact, salute her. With both hands. I seem to be overdoing a lot of things today. “What’s your name? I didn’t catch your name?”
I take a sip of my drink.
“Dawn,” she says, “I’m Doreen’s yoga teacher and the owner at Splooge.”
I spit out my matcha latte, and the spray hits the dark-haired elderly lady to Dawn’s left square in her chest. Her eyes widen.
“Mabel!” Doreen scolds and smiles.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, my friend! Let me help you with that!” I reach across the table with a scratchy brown napkin and start pawing at this lady’s… um, what’s the skin called on a woman’s chest? The part that’s above the boobs, but below the neck? The part that women in internet ads are constantly smacking sleep stickers on to ward off wrinkles? The decoupage? Skin collage? No, no, the décolletage! That’s right.
“Wow, Splooge, huh?” I keep speaking to Dawn while dabbing at this other lady’s wet, green-spit-speckled décolletage. “That’s an interesting name for a gym!”
“Yes, well, there have been lots of studies that single onomatopoeic words are great for grabbing people’s attention when it comes to business names. Particularly gyms.”
“Well, good for you. That’s fantastic.” I finish dabbing the dark-haired lady and look into her still-startled eyes. “And what is your name?”
“Mrs. Kim” is all she says.
