“I can’t, because there’s this little thing called money. I need a constant income.”
“What are you not telling me? This is unlike you to be so indecisive, timid. You’re the direct one.” She moves away from me, creating space, and pours us coffee. “Because I know you have money put away. You can afford to reinvent yourself.”
“Reid loves the UAB. He’s messaged me several times, not me but Andrea, who he thinks writes UAB.”
“What?” She sets the coffee in front of me, half of it sloshing over the rim and onto the quartz counter. She ignores the mess, which confirms I’ve really dropped a bomb on her.
“Yeah, in the beginning we started having all these cute meet-ups, and he thought it was random. Of course, it was coincidental, but I knew who he was. I knew he wanted to move his blog to a more full-time gig, because he told me so when he messaged UAB and didn’t know I was Andi.” I run my hair through my messy bun, yanking it out. “It’s too complicated. A mess.”
“You still have to come clean. Period.”
“Like you stalking James and his internet habits?”
“That’s different.” She side-eyes me, and no more is said because the front door bangs open and in comes Robbie and Celia, and of course, James.
“Mom, hi!” Celia says. “Hey, come on, Aunt Andi. Get Gabby out of the car.”
“Andi, why didn’t you bring your blogger friend?” James calls from the hallway.
And this is basically how the rest of the weekend passes. Shrieking and kids playing, and James grilling me about Reid.
Delia and I don’t get another chance to discuss my lie or weakness. We don’t come up with a plan. Instead, we drink wine, talk, laugh, and watch our kids love on one another.
Intervention: nil.
HOWDY, folks.
It would seem that our good friendMommyX3is at it again. As if private school weren’t enough of a stretch, her little girl is apparently becoming an equestrian. See right here, she’s started a small GoFundMe, circulating it among her blogger friends and directing them to share and share again. PoorMommyX3has to spend the summer in Arizona on some ranch, helping Baby #3 be the best she can be. This costs money. I get it, but why do we have to pay for it?
Look at Lila, the little mini star, spending a few months in Hollywood on her mom’s dime, working hard at the next step of her career, and decide, do we pay for Baby #3?
I don’t think so.
Oh, by the way,MommyX3is willing to work with any and all businesses in Arizona.
Puh-lease.
That’s all I have for you tonight.
Affectionately yours,
The UnAffectionate Blogger
As soon as I post, comments start flooding in. Page views are multiplying. The blogger community has a love-hate relationship with GoFundMe. A kid with Lyme disease,yay. Private violin lessons,nope. House fire and everything destroyed,yay. New house with palatial blogging home office,nope. You get me.
I change screens and make sure all my ads are operating as planned. My mind is calculating payouts when my phone dings.
REID: How was the weekend?
My heart flutters. I like this guy, and I think he likes me. It’s the first genuine conversation I’ve had with myself. And I need to take things to the next level with him.
It’s Sunday night, and I’m finally tucked into bed. Comfy jammies cover my legs, my laptop resting over top of them. Gabby is fast asleep after not shutting up for one second of the car ride home. She loves her cousins, and at that thought, a weird melancholy comes over me. She’d probably love siblings.
Shoving my shitty thoughts aside, I text Reid back.
ANDI: Was fun. Good for Gabby, fun with the kids, and Delia and I drank A LOT of wine.
REID: No barfing?
