Page 56 of The Do-Over

“Got a bunch of free condom samples from her too,” Mimi said with a wink. “I’m on a fixed income, you know.”

“I have such a headache. I wonder why?” Mom rubbed her forehead and glared at Mimi. “Is your ibuprofen still in the cabinet by the refrigerator?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“What’s this?” She called from the kitchen a moment later. She was pointing at a flyer I’d hung on the refrigerator—on top of that annoying list of anti-resolutions—for the Hope House bowling night.

“A fundraiser for a place I’ve been helping with.”

“Oh, what sort of place?” Her voice was infinitely polite.

I hesitated. “Hope House. They provide all kinds of services to help women get back on their feet.” That wasn’t exactly the whole truth, but I was worried about what my mother’s reaction would be. Bria had sort of taken root in my heart, and I bristled at anyone judging her or the rest of the women at Hope House.

“I’ve always said it’s important to give back when we can.” She hurried over to her purse and pulled out her day planner. I had to admit she had always been willing to help in the community—PTA, donations, fundraising, etc. She could organize a bake sale with her hands tied behind her back. “And I want to support you. I’m penciling it in right now.”

I blinked. “Penciling in what?”

“The bowling night.”

Trepidation pooled in my stomach. “Do you even bowl?”

“Sign me up too,” Mimi said from the living room.

“You all don’t have to go.”

“I never do anything I don’t want to do,” Mimi said. “And besides, you know I like to bowl.”

“It’s settled then.” Mom smiled and snapped her planner shut. “I’ll be able to see how you’re spending your time and help out a good cause. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Phee.”

Phee, too? What was happening?

A few days later, I was still trying to figure out how my entire family had invited themselves to this bowling night when Lilah stumbled upon me inviting Amanda at work. It was Lilah who decided on the spot she wanted to go bowling too. And it was Lilah who asked Nate the minute he picked her up.

“Please, can we go, Daddy?” she asked, playing it up with those big brown eyes.

“It’ll be pretty boring. Just a bunch of grown-ups,” I said.

Nate gave her a time-honored parental response. “We’ll see.”

Everyone knew that was code for, Not a chance.

I sighed in relief. I already had to juggle my mother, my sister, and my grandmother on Friday night; I couldn’t risk my pretend boyfriend who was my real next-door neighbor and didn’t know he was my pretend boyfriend popping up too.

That would be awkward. Embarrassing. Ridiculous. A complete failure on so many levels.

So, of course, that was exactly what happened.

TWENTY-THREE

“A good man’s hard to find and even harder to keep.”

—MIMI

Main Street Bowling Alley sat on the corner of a once-busy thoroughfare; the area, like the building, a little worn out. I showed up early to help Stella set up an information table for Hope House in front of the eight lanes reserved for our event.

“I think that pretty much says it all.” I pointed at the sign Stella had hung on the front of the table which read, Donations welcome. Don’t be a cheapskate.

Five minutes later, Mathias found me nursing a Diet Coke, and he wasn’t alone. With him stood a Marilyn Monroe lookalike who I later learned once held the title of Miss Cheese Festival and was a current Miss Wisconsin hopeful. Her name was Olivia.