“I was thinking, what do you do? When you transcribe?”
And one-two-three, he’s into me again, and I’ll take it.
“Well ...”
“Mom, come on. Put it on.” Gabby leaps out and hops up next to Reid.
“This isn’t how I ever imagined I’d spend my Saturday night, but I like it,” he says.
“This isn’t certainly how I saw spending the last few days, or ever, so I guess we’re even.”
“Popcorn?” Gabby asks.
“I’ll do you one better,” Reid says. “Chinese takeout?”
“With egg rolls?”
“Gabby, don’t be so demanding.”
“With egg rolls.” Reid winks at my daughter, and my heart shatters into ten million pieces. Fucking Mr. Coffee; he should be here right now.
“How about we watch half the movie and then order?” I suggest, feeling like a fifth wheel.
My daughter and this strange man nod in unison, and I hitPLAY.
We didn’t go to Reid’s the day after our Chinese takeout and movie night. Gabby’s stomach hurt from the antibiotic, so I spared him that particular not-so-perfect parenting experience. We did have a blast watching movies and eating Chinese, so much so, I didn’t update my blog until midnight.
For an hour or two after he left that night, I lay in bed, dreaming of the possibilities with him. He didn’t seem to mind Disney movies, he loved takeout, and he rushed to my rescue—it’s an act, I told myself. Some kind of after-sex glow or haze. In the end, I got up and wrote a somewhat cynical post about the tree at Rockefeller Center and the bloggers snatching SEO from it, and called it a night.
Now, life is in fast forward and it’s Wednesday. I’m sifting through two days’ worth of emails, behind the eight ball and all that good stuff.
I have several inquiries I’m proud of, Universal Studios being one of them. Looks like Gabby and I may be taking a spring-break trip this year, gratis! I need to figure out how to do that anonymously, but I will because this is an opportunity I can’t miss.
The next email hits me in the gut.
Andrea,
Hi, it’s Reid again. I loved your new voice a few days ago in your post about Lila. What struck me is your ability to switch gears. One minute, snarky; the next, sweet. It’s cool.
I’m wondering how that would translate to my blog. Did I say I love blogging and I’m not going to give it up for anyone? Why would I? Plus, I’ve been invited to Disney!
Which brings me to this. I’m dating a woman with a kid and I don’t know if she realizes how much work this blog requires. Work I enjoy and don’t mind dedicating time to.
I’m wondering if you have a significant other, and if you have any pointers on how to balance it all. Yes, this is new for me, but it seems to be going fast (and I don’t mind). I also realize you’re a stranger, and I’m dumping this on you. It’s odd, I know. But you get this blogging thing.
Forgive me if this is too forward.
Talk soon,
Reid
“Shit,” I mumble and slap my laptop closed. This is getting ridiculous. Next thing, we’ll be on the same flight, me heading to Universal and him to Disney.
I haven’t dated in a thousand years, and now I find myself hooked up with the one guy who could blow my cover or understand it—or who the hell knows. Either way, I’m lying to his face, and I do know that is bad juju.
I’m pacing my small apartment when a text pings. It’s him.
REID: Slammed with finals and grading this week. May not come up for air until Saturday. Any chance we can grab a cocktail?
