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I hook my arm through Jessica’s. “Oh, Jack, I’m not sure you can be our emcee after all. I think maybe we’ll get Jessica to do it.” With that, I guide her to the front of the room while saying, “Honestly, computers need to come with a warning for all men:Leave our tabs alone.”
“I could not agree more,” she says.
“I don’t know what a fishing spear is, but I feel like one could come in handy.”
“I do like to threaten Jack with it often.”
Jack’s voice comes from behind us. “If you two don’t need me, I’m more than happy to find a game of golf somewhere.”
I stop walking and turn to him. “Really? Golf? I thought so highly of you until this very second.”
He grins. “Fuck, you and Jessica are going to get on too well.”
“The attire,” Jessica says with a shudder. “It’s so wanky.”
I laugh. “That might be my new favorite word.”
Jessica looks at me. “You don’t use it?”
“I never have, but it will be all I say from now on.”
“You have to agree, though? About the clothing golfers wear,” she says.
“I haven’t seen my man in his golfing attire yet. We’ve got a date for a game of golf on Sunday, so I can report back after that.”
She looks horrified. “Don’t do it, Charlize. Chasing a ball around with a stick for hours? You will live to regret it.”
“I’d love to hear your report,” Jack says. “And don’t listen to my wife. She’s still to agree to a game with me. She doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
Jessica shakes her head at him. “I recall playing a game with you when we first met.” She looks at me. “Men. They think they remember everything, but they don’t.”
Jack gives her another one of his loved-up gazes before saying to me, “Right, tell me about tomorrow night.”
We spend half an hour going over the gala program. For all his playfulness, Jack is serious while I need him to be, which I appreciate.
When we’re finished, I say, “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to do this.”
He smiles and it’s a genuinely warm smile. “It just so happened that we were going to be in New York this week. And I looked up the Scholarship Fund. They’re doing important work. I’m more than happy to help.”
Mom joins us and I introduce her to Jack and Jessica. When they leave ten minutes later, she says, “I’m so proud of you, Charlize.”
I would fall off my chair if I was sitting on it. “Because I got Jack to emcee?”
She smiles. “No, because you’ve done an amazing job helping the committee turn what was a good gala into a great one. I hope you’ll consider helping us again next year.”
Hearing these words from my mother feels like basking in the sun. Warmth and happiness float through me.Ifeel like I’m floating. I must surely be glowing from the inside out.
And then, while I revel in my mother’s approval, I realize she’s right. And it doesn’t matter whether she thinks it or not, Ihavedone an amazing job helping with the gala. On top of that, I’ve enjoyed it and am enjoying seeing it come together.
I pull out my phone and text Owen.
Charlize: I just realized something a little disturbing.
Owen: What?
Charlize: I’m a gala girl.
Owen: And you’re a damn good one.
