Page 26 of Rare Blend
I get where Hillary is coming from. Honestly, I’m surprised it’s not my own train of thought, but I don’t see Ethan being any of the things she’s accusing him of. He’s gruff and grumpy and lacking in manners, but he wouldn’t actually hurt me. I’m not sure why I feel so certain of that, but I do. Even in our heated exchanges, I’ve never feared for my safety. Maybe that’s naive of me.
“He’s not like that.”
She huffs. “That’s what they said about Ted Bundy, and we all know how that turned out.”
“Anyway,” I say, trying to change the subject. “How’s the baby?”
“Baby Girl is fine, measuring right where she should be.” She rubs her belly and zooms the camera in on it. “Besides getting enormous, all is well in that department.”
Her face reappears with concern.
“Now back to this neighbor, maybe you should find somewhere else to stay.”
“I’m not packing up my shit again just to move two seconds away. I’m fine.”
She rolls her eyes, but her shoulders slump and I know she’s dropping the subject. For now, at least.
“Besides Dahmer Bundy next door, any cute boys? Any prospects?”
I snort a laugh. “No, and none of that will be happening. I’m not here to date.”
“Who said anything about dating?”
I ignore her not so subtle suggestion. “For all I know, I’ll be gone by next week.”
“Have you heard from any of the companies you applied to?”
“Well, no.” Did she really have to point that out? Dread starts to inch its way into my head. Not one phone call or email, and I’ve applied for well over a hundred jobs.
“Then it looks like you’ll be there longer than that,” she says cheerily, unaware that she opened the door to my intrusive thoughts. “Maybe you should get on an app or two and have some fun.”
“I’m not doing any of the apps. Hard pass.” I dabbled with a few in my early twenties before I met Brandon, but I never took it too seriously, I was trying to have fun. Zoe’s horror stories were enough to completely turn me off from giving them another shot.
“You deserve an orgasm you didn’t give yourself. Might as well have some excitement while you’re there.”
“I get that you’re the horniest pregnant woman alive, but let’s not talk about my lack of a dating life. I’m in my single girl era and loving it.”
She furrows her brows at me but doesn’t say anything.
“Like today, I went to the farmers market and a cute coffee shop and then I drove around town, giving myself a tour while I listened to a podcast. It was lovely.”
Shaking her head, she smiles. “Whatever you say.”
I glance at the clock ticking on the wall and notice it’s almost one o’clock. “I’d love to continue this delightful conversation, but I’m meeting the stepmother soon and I need to prepare myself.”
She exhales sharply. “Fine. Call me later.”
We say our goodbyes, and I spend the next thirty minutes touching up my hair and makeup, trying to shake Hillary’s ridiculous advice. I’m here to get my life together, not sleep with some random local guy. Irritatingly, Ethan is the first image that comes to mind, and I rapidly shake my head of those thoughts. It’s only because I don’t know anyone and he’s decently attractive. Well, he’s more than decently attractive. Still, we’re oil and water, and that’s reason enough to not entertain those thoughts. And him apologizing with some food doesn’t make up for his shitty attitude. It’s laughable, really. Ethan would never give me a second look. I’m sure of it.
Jenn found out I went to the farmers market this morning through a friend of a friend, or however gossip spreads around here, and she was a little disappointed I’d gone by myself. So, when she invited me to go wine tasting, just me and her, I couldn’t say no, even though it’s the last thing I feel like doing. I can already predict how this will go. It will be like an awkward first date, filled with get-to-know-you questions and forced conversation.
I wait for her on the sidewalk, and right on time, she rounds the corner, approaching in a white, soccer mom SUV.
She greets me with a warm smile as I get settled in my seat. We’re silent for a moment, an old Faith Hill song filling the void.
“So,” Jenn starts, clearing the air. “Thank you for saying yes. I wasn’t sure you would, and I’m sure this is probably awkward for you. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be imposing or act like some mom you clearly don’t need. From everything your dad has told me about you, you’re a smart, accomplished young woman, and I would like to get to know you. And maybe, eventually, we can be friends.”
I bite back my sneer. She’s either lying or embellishing things my dad told her for my sake. He’s not the most forthcoming man, and I can’t remember the last time he paid me a compliment. Compliments from him are like unicorns—nonexistent. Even at my own college graduation, where I graduated summa cum laude, rather than congratulate me, he and my mom preferred to deliver little digs to each other in masked happy voices, as if I was a child who couldn’t understand.
