Her eyebrows folded inward as she crinkled her nose. “I mean, I guess. But why? The world moves so fast I’ve already missed several news cycles.”
“News is the worst. Everything is breaking, urgent, must-see TV. Come to find out it’s just a mundane story about a world leader making threats. Shit that’s a Tuesday in America.”
“Your house is like a horror story. Secluded farmhouse, no neighbors for miles, and no Wi-Fi. All you’re missing is the maniacal killer.”
“Gee thanks.”
“I’m not saying your place is a death trap … but?—”
“Sometimes disconnecting is a good thing. You discover what’s truly important and what’s just noise.”
“How am I supposed to keep abreast on the newest lip shimmer, nail trend, or whozeewhatzit without internet?” she teased. “I don’t know I like something until the internet tells me I should.”
“I know you’re joking, but for a lot of people that’s their reality. They need validation from faceless masses to confirm their next move.”
“So you’re anti social media and the world wide web?”
“Nope. I just think that shit is nuanced. And while it can keep us connected, it can also pull us apart.”
Fancy scanned her phone again. “I just need the serotonin boost staying connected provides. I haven’t even done my WordBop of the day.”
“What’s that?”
“You’d know if you had fucking internet.”
“You want the internet? Here’s the internet … check out my outfit of the day. Someone asks complete strangers if he’s the asshole for doing XYZ. Spoiler alert, he is indeed the asshole. A video tries to convince you to buy this amazing chair, cheese shredder, or pair of butt lifting jeans. An influencer with over amillion views gets ousted as racist. And people are going back and forth about who should pay for the first date.”
“So you are on the internet.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
Once we hit the edge of town, the bars went up and Fancy’s interest in me went down. The cab was flooded with dings, chimes, and whistles to signify all the calls, messages, and alerts she’d missed in less than twenty-four hours. She quietly scanned through emails and texts, her face neutral. If the world was burning down, I couldn’t tell. Parking, I exited the truck and made my way to the passenger side to let her out.
“Is it okay if we hit up the hardware store first, I have to get a few things?”
“Uh-huh.” At Morton’s she stopped short. “I’m just going to hang back and reply to some messages.”
“Okay.”
“Could you tell Mr. Morton I said hello?”
“You could just come inside and tell him yourself.”
“These replies aren’t going to send themselves. But I’ll stand by the window and wave.”
“Yeah, that’s just as good.” I went inside, not waiting for a response. Let’s start with the obvious, Francesca owed me nothing. We weren’t a couple, we’d had a one-night stand. It’s not like I was shopping for tuxedos or making plans. I knew what the fuck this was when I invited her home. Now that being said, I was pissed. Was I the asshole for wanting my attention to be reciprocated? Probably. Shit, was spending time with me so unbearable she needed to virtually be anywhere but here? For a brief second, I allowed myself to wonder if she was hoping for a message from her ex begging her to take him back.
Outside the hardware store, I was treated to a big smile. “All done?”
“Are you all done?”
“Yes?” She lifted a bag with a smile. “While you were in Morton’s I dipped into Sweet But Sinful and got us some taffy.”
Damn, I am the asshole.“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wasn’t sure which flavors you like so I just got a little bit of everything.” Pulling her in, I kissed the top of her head. “Hmm, you do know this is how rumors start.”
“You’re right, I probably shouldn’t have—” Fancy’s phone ringing cut me off.
“I need to take this.” She shook her cellphone. “I’ll meet you at the market.” Fancy called over her shoulder while walking away.
