Gail:That’s what she said!
There it is.
Gail is the comedian. All her jokes come from her fourteen-year-old grandson.
Joyce:Will you stop that nonsense. We told you it wasn’t funny.
Mimi:Oh shut up. Don’t be an old fuddy duddy.
Birdie:Maybe you should tell her a joke! You’re a funny guy, Chasey. We all think so.
That’s not a bad idea.
Me:Dirty or clean?
Mimi:No, be romantic. I was reading this book where the man told the woman he was convinced she was at the same place as him because he could smell her.
Gail:That book is about werewolves, so unless Chase has sniffed her ass we’re out of luck.
I can’t stop laughing as I scratch the scruff on my chin before I type back.
Me:This is hard. The problem is everything thatcomes out of my mouth happens to be the dumbest thing she’s ever heard.
Joyce:Oh honey, you can’t listen to a girl when she calls you dumb. It’s unreliable. Sometimes she means it ... but Evie doesn’t. She wouldn’t have kissed you at the wedding otherwise. I vote to say the dumb shit.
I may have spilled the tiniest bit of tea to my gals. But it’s the Hookers. They’re my hall pass ... in the most nonsexual of ways.
I’m typing back when Birdie’s message pops up.
Birdie:I second that. It doesn’t matter what you open with, baby. Just get your foot in the door. If she lets her guard down for even asecond she’ll fall in love with you. Because what’s not to love? You’re generous and kind, thoughtful and irreverent.
Mimi:That’s right! And if she doesn’t we’ll hold a grudge.
Joyce:And slander her name in all our Facebook groups.
I’m smiling like a goofball, all hopped up on my faux granny pep talk, as I let out a deep breath. I got this.
Just get my foot in the door.
I flip my phone over in my hand one last time before I swipe it open to our messages—mine and Evie’s.
The very last one I sent her, the day after the wedding, still makes me wince. But I scroll up anyway, looking over the smattering of them, all beginning and ending in twelve hours.
Me:Where’d you go?
Me:Breakfast?
Me:or come here and I’ll cook and eat it off you.
Me:Why am I on read?
Me:Are you ghosting me? Answer with a ghost.
Me:Joke’s on you. You can’t hurt my feelings. I grew up with two sisters who told me if I spoke too much my tongue would fall out of my mouth. I was basically mute for three years. You’re gonna have to try harder, Evil.
Evil:I’m a fan of repeating some history. Let’s start with yours.
I audibly exhale, closing my eyes. It’s like a knife to the heart. Fuck it, I’ve been here before ... on the verge and then over the humiliation cliff. I just have to rip the bandage.
