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“I love you Paige and I know how you’ve suffered. All I’m saying is that you have to accept good things in your life in order to have them.” She doesn’t wait for me to respond before asking, “Did you meet any nice women?”
I decide to let go of the chip on my shoulder for a minute and tease, “While I have nothing against gay people, Missy, I don’t swing that way.”
“Smart aleck. You know what I meant. Those dating shows are reliant on each of the sexes having a confidante with whom to share their secrets. It keeps the pot stirring while we all wait to see if a romance is going to bloom.”
“I met two very nice women,” I tell her. “One is a caterer that Trina thinks should match with Tim. The other is a longshoreman who seemed pretty excited about Chip.”
“The substitute teacher at your school?”
“I know! Can you believe it?”
“Yes. I mean, I haven’t met the guy, but I know you’re famous for making snap judgments about people.”
“Excuse me? What are you talking about?” The very worst thing about a best friend is that she knows all your shortcomings.
“Please.” She huffs loudly in my ear. “You are always making comments like, ‘Look at that guy—I bet he owns a beat-up old El Camino.’ Or ‘That dude looks like he couldn’t add two and two together and come up with four every time.’”
I’m hurt by her assessment of my character. “We both talk like that. It’s what friends do.”
She hems and haws before saying, “Maybe so, but maybe that’s why we were both single for so long.”
“Because we have standards?” I am not enjoying this call in the least.
“Because we’re harder on people than we need to be.” She clearly knows I’m angry at her because she adds, “I just want you to stay open, that’s all.”
“Uh-huh.” I should just hang up before I say something I regret. But instead, I feel the need to throw a little sass. “I guess it’s easy to judge me now that you’re part of a happy couple.” My tone is positively dripping with annoyance.
“Paige …” Missy clearly thinks she’s right and I’m wrong.
“What?”
“Please, don’t blow this opportunity because you’re afraid.”
“So I should date a stuck-up lawyer in hopes he’ll pick me?”
“I’m not saying you should date the lawyer. I’m only saying you should suspend judgment until you get to know him better. Also, interact with men who aren’t your normal type. Someone entirely unexpected might be in your future.”
“I’m not going to date Chip,” I assure her.
“According to you, he’s already found someone he’s interested in.”
I sigh loudly which acts as a release valve for some of my feistiness. “Can you imagine Chip coming out of this with his soulmate and me not finding mine? That would be horrible.”
“First of all, I don’t know Chip, so I can’t comment on that,”she says. “But I do know there’s someone for everyone, and that you have a history of being your own worst enemy.”
She’s not wrong. “It’s just hard. It’s not like I have tons of dating experience, so I don’t have that much practice.”
“And when you get nervous about something,” she says, “you historically build walls to protect yourself.”
I stretch out and pull the duvet over me, so I’m encased in it like a taco. Missy is right. Iammy own worst enemy. It’s my biggest stumbling block. “Fine. You’ve made some valid points and I hear you.”
“We sound like a couple in marriage counseling,” she laughs.
Because it’s always helpful to whine about things you can’t change, I tell her, “I just wish you were on the show with me. You know, like we were planning.”
“If that were the case, that would mean Jamie wasn’t in my life.” She pauses to give me the opportunity to take my words back. Which is clearly what I must do.
“I wish you were cloned so one of you could be happily in love while the other of you was onMidwestern Matchmakerwith me as my wingman. Is that better?”
