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Iwasperhapsalittle too eager to hear how Belle’s night had gone. After I returned home, I sat on the couch in the dark, watching the time on my phone. Would they hit it off? Would she go home with him, or worse, bring him back here? Was she comfortable with him? Was she safe?
Ten rolled around, and I started getting nervous. I’d been back for an hour already, and it seemed like a reasonable time for the date to conclude. Surely if she didn’t like him, she would have texted me if he made her uncomfortable.
I sent her a quick text, asking if everything was okay. Usually, she was really good about responding, but after ten minutes, my worry ratcheted up.
After stewing, I decided to get up and go look for her. I knew where their date was, and I would simply just go see if she was still there. If Max’s Mustang was still parked by the pier. If she wasn’t, I would call her.
Just as I grabbed my car keys to leave, I heard the rumble of an engine pull up in the driveway. Quickly, I moved to the window and peeked out, seeing that it was indeed Max’s car. Relief washed through me.
Until I watched as Max got out and walked around the car, opening Belle’s door for her. She took his hand as she stood from the car, and he pulled her close. She didn’t seem to mind that, either. Maybe their date was a success?
I would have to find someone worse next week.
They exchanged a few words in the night air, illuminated only by the bright lights on the porch of our house. He gave her cheek a quick kiss, and then she dropped his hand and came to the door.
I bolted away from the door, running to the kitchen so that she wouldn’t know I was watching her the entire time. All I could think was how grateful I was that she didn’t invite him in.
As soon as I heard the front door open and close, I walked out of the kitchen casually, as if I didn’t know that she’d just gotten home.
“Hey, Belle,” I greeted, seeing her drop her purse very dramatically. I cocked my head sideways, waiting for her to meet my eyes.
Her head snapped up as if I startled her, but she instantly smiled at me. “Hi.”
She straightened her back and walked towards the kitchen, brushing past me. I was dying to know how her date went, but didn’t want to seem too eager. I turned and followed her, watching as she got her tea kettle out of the cabinet and moved to the pantry to pick out a tea. This was her nightly routine, and if I could predict which tea she was in the mood for, I would have done it for her. But she never picked what I expected.
So I just moved to the other side of the kitchen where the Keurig was and put a pod in it, starting my own nightly drink. Yes, I drank coffee all hours of the day.
“How was your date?” She asked, something in her voice that I couldn’t place.
“Good.” Was all I could give her. How did I explain that she picked the literal worst girl ever for me to go on a date with? I didn’t want to hurt her feelings or make her feel like she did a bad job. But dang, was Jessica not even close to soulmate material. “Yours?”
“Good.” There was that tone in her voice again. I replayed it a few times while I waited for the coffee maker to finish. I knew that Max was most definitely not her type, so I concluded that her date was not good, just like mine wasn’t.
And then it dawned on me that perhaps Belle had also set me up with someone she knew I would dislike.
Laughter boomed out of me, uncontrolled. I didn’t even try to hold back as I turned around, watching Belle do the same. There was a confused look on her face for all of one second before she busted out into laughter as well.
“You weasel,” I called her, holding my stomach from the laughter.
“What?” She held a hand to her chest as if I’d offended her gravely, but the look in her eyes told me everything that I needed to know. “You didn’t fall head over heels with Jessica?”
I let my laughter run its course and waited for it to turn into mild chuckles. “Oh, yes. It was love at first sight! I adore when someone cuts me off every time I start talking.” I laughed again, thinking about the absurdity of the date I’d been on.
“I knew it! Just like I love men who only know how to talk about football and the gym!” Belle came over to me, putting a hand on my arm as she laughed. “I knew wedding bells would be ringing as soon as he told me that Motocross wasn’t a real sport.”
All laughter from me ceased, and I straightened. “He what?”
“Yup! Max said that moto wasn’t even a real sport.”
“Did you line him out?” I asked, all humor gone. I hadn’t known that Max was that bad. Motocross was Belle’s favorite, thanks to her family’s love for it, and for mine. She was the only one of her sisters that cared for the sport, but her love for racing was fierce. It’s one thing that brought us closer as friends.
“I held my tongue,” She said proudly. Shaking her head, she returned to her tea kettle, which had a temperature gauge on top. I’m sure she was checking how close her water was to tea temp.
“So I take it the date went bad?” I asked her, trying to hide any hope from my voice.
“Bad is one way to put it.”
“Then why are you just now getting back?” I leaned back on the counter behind me, taking the cup of fresh coffee into my hands while I watched her.
