MOM:Those gold wedges would be adorable! Wear those!
Oh, good call, Aunt Lisa. Those would look perfect!
I type,Yes! Those will look great!But delete it since that is way too perky for Olivia. So instead I type:Ok
Olivia’s phone keeps vibrating, and I can see a group text she’s on is going a little nuts. I take a moment to check if there’s anything she needs to be aware of, but it’s really just a lot of messages flying back and forth about what everyone is wearing. Should I respond for her? Is that crossing the line? I recognize several names in the group, but it feels wrong to text them as if I’m Olivia. They’ll just have to wonder why she’s not responding.
It’s really weird handling someone else’s communications. Olivia has already forwarded me a few messages from my friend Addie back in Minden and one from Wes because he forgot I switched phones for the day. I get why she didn’t ask one of her friends she goes to school with to answer these texts. There are very few people I would trust getting a peek into my life like this.
Hmm. Maybe I should have deleted my conversation with Wes before I gave my phone to Olivia. I’ll never hear the end of it if she scrolls through our messages. I can feel myself blush just thinking about it.
I put everything in a bag and head for my car, making sure to lock up before I leave and drop the key back under the mat. Wes sent me directions to the bed-and-breakfast where the party is taking place, and I leave in plenty of time to get there in case I get turned around. It’s actually not very far from Olivia’s house.
By the time I arrive, I’ve felt Olivia’s phone vibrate several times. That group chat is really blowing up. I pull her phone out of my purse to see if she’s missing something big, but it’s her mom.
MOM:Make sure you say hello to Mrs. Woods and thank her for having you! She’s one of the hostesses and she’s in my bunco group and has been talking about this party for months!
ME:Yes ma’am!
I hitSENDbefore I can take back that exclamation point. Oh, well. Maybe Aunt Lisa will think Olivia is in a very good mood today. I can’t forget to tell Olivia she has to make a point to speak to Mrs. Woods when she gets here.
Exiting out of Aunt Lisa’s convo, I see there is a new unread message. I open it up.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:I don’t know where you went but they are looking for you
Oh no. I call my phone immediately. Olivia answers on the first ring.
“I’m halfway there! Sorry! It was harder to sneak away than I thought it would be,” she says. She sounds flustered. Or out of breath.
“You need to turn around, I think,” I say. “Someone just texted and said they were looking for you.”
“What?” she screeches. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know. You don’t have their contact in your phone. Want me to ask?”
“No!” she answers quickly. “Coach gave my number to all the players from my school, but Locke’s was the only one I didn’t already have. It’s probably him. But ignore him—don’t text back.” I can almost hear the screech of tires as she turns around. “I guess I’m missing the luncheon.”
Oh crap!
“Wait! Your mom wants you to say hello to Mrs. Woods! I already responded to her that you would.”
We both let out a groan.
“You’ll have to go in there. Be me. She won’t know the difference,” Olivia says.
“Are you kidding me?” My voice comes out in a very high pitch that I barely recognize. “I mean, we look like we’re related, but that’s it. Anyone who knows you would know I’m not you.”
“Well, I can’t get there and we can’t fall apart on day one!” she says. “I haven’t seen Mrs. Woods in years. Literally years. You and I are the same height, same dark hair, same build. Plus, you’ll be wearing a hat. I swear she won’t know. You can do this!”
And as I start digging out the turquoise dress I packed for her, I remember she’s the master of talking me into dumb ideas. I crawl into the backseat while Olivia continues her pep talk over Bluetooth.
“Go in, find Mrs. Woods, say hi, and get out of there. I’ll send you a pic of her from Facebook so you’ll know which mom she is. They invited a ton of girls, so you’ll blend right in and they won’t miss you when you leave.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I mumble. I slip the dress on and wiggle out of my shorts. I strap on the shoes and run my fingers through my hair before putting the hat on.
“Go ahead and get in there, since you’re early. You’ll run into fewer people that way. Okay, I’m back at the golf course. Call me once you’re done. I love you!”
And then she’s gone.
