Chapter 1
It was the mac ’n’ cheese that brought me here.
I didn’t know that mac ’n’ cheese would result in impulsive lunacy.
Leading to the parking lot of the country club where I’m sitting, unshowered, wearing my favorite oversized gray sweatpants and slightly matching gray sweatshirt. It’s my favorite outfit, or “groutfit” as my daughter, Minnie, calls it, which is probably why I’ve been wearing it for three days straight.
Beside me, on the passenger seat of my Jeep Cherokee, is a crumpled bag of cheese puffs (half eaten anddelicious) and a box of Swiss Rolls ripped open and missing two. The smeared wrappers next to the box, leftover traitorous evidence.
I’d gone to the gas station for milk—to make the mac ’n’ cheese—but the Swiss Rolls were calling to me.
Not the most nutritious dinner, but I think they have flour and milk and eggs in them, right? That totally counts.
Lately, I’m not picky.
I’d forgotten that today was the annual One Voicecharity gala until I saw Dana and Tad Mathison pull into the gas station. I was parked in one of the far spots opening the cheese puffs when I spotted their Lexus. Instinctively, I sank down in my seat, pulling the Cubs cap down a little lower over my brow. These days, I don’t leave the house without some kind of cap and a big pair of sunglasses.
It’s dramatic and probably unnecessary, but I’ve taken to doing what I can tonotstand out.
But you do what you have to do for the mac ’n’ cheese.
Tad was wearing a tux, and Dana was decked out in an off-the-shoulder fitted blue formal gown. That’s when I remembered.
The gala.
Had it really been a year since the last one?
I watched them in my side mirror as he filled their car with gas and she reapplied her lipstick.
He made a face at her through the windshield as he squeegeed it off. She puckered her lips in a kiss, and he raised his eyebrows and nodded enthusiastically.
Flirting. I vaguely remembered flirting.
They looked like a normal, happy couple.
That’s when it really hit me. Ithadbeen a year. A year since I’d organized the last charity gala. A year since my life fell apart and I became a very public, very viral spectacle.
I sank lower, until only the brim of my cap was raised enough for me to peek.
I held my breath and they drove off, thankfully oblivious that I was here at all.
Where was this unbridled anonymity a year ago?
I thought on that for a moment until a crazy idea waved at me.
For a reason that I still don’t fully comprehend, I waved back.
The thought was simple.
You should follow them.
And I did.
I didn’t go home, where a new crime documentary was cued up.
That would’ve made too much sense.
Instead, I dropped the Jeep into gear and peeled out of the parking lot, following Tad and Dana down State Street all the way to the country club.
