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I have no idea where Paige puts all the food, but she digs into my supper like she hasn’t eaten in a week. When there’s only one bite left, she looks up as though offering it to me. “Go ahead,” I tell her.
I’m hoping that when she’s done her mood will be better, but she still has a sour look on her face. “Paige,” I say. “You can tell me if something’s wrong.”
“What could possibly be wrong?” Yeah, she’s not selling it.
I suggest, “Maybe things aren’t going as well with Fielden as you’re letting on.” I sound pretty darn hopeful.
Her eyes bug out. “What? No! Fielden is a great guy. Did you know that he likes to paddle board, too?”
“Are you sure he didn’t say waterboard?” I ask before I can stop myself.
She scowls at me. “Fielden is very athletic.”
We sit quietly for several long minutes before I tell her, “I miss you.”
“Why?” She sounds mad again.
“Because you’re my friend, and I like spending time with you.Even though we’ve seen each other three times this week, I feel like I’ve hardly had a chance to talk to you.”
“You’ve been busy looking for love.” She sounds accusatory.
“Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?” There’s no pleasing this woman.
Paige stands up. “Yes. Good job.” Then she walks to her front door, signaling that it’s time for me to go.
“Are you going somewhere?” I tease her.
She spins around and puts her hands on her hips like she’s preparing to go to battle. “You’re a regular comedian tonight, aren’t you?”
I lean back on the sofa. “It’s only six. Why don’t we play a game or something?”
Paige meanders back into the living room. Then she surprises me by declaring, “Maybe you can be my new Missy.”
“What does that mean?”
“Missy was my rock. We ate together, watched movies, played games …”
“But not as much anymore now that Jamie is in the picture, huh?” She shakes her head sadly, so I tell her, “I can be your new Missy.”
“I don’t want you to tell me about Cami, and I don’t want to talk about Fielden.”
I’m relieved not to hear about Fielden, but why wouldn’t she want to hear about Cami? “Don’t friends talk about everything?” I ask.
She sits on the loveseat across from mine. “Being on this show is a lot harder than I thought it would be. When we’re not shooting, I don’t want to think about it.”
I’m not sure if that’s the real reason or not, but I tell her, “Fine by me. Now, what game do you want to play?”
“How about if we watch a movie? I haven’t seen the one where Sandra Bullock plays a romance writer.”
“I’m in,” I tell her, relieved she no longer seems upset with me.
Paige moves over to my sofa. Putting her feet on my lap, she announces, “Missy used to rub my feet.”
“Really?”
“No, but my feet hurt and you’re here, so I figured I’d put you to good use.”
Paige is a hoot. One minute she’s mad at me for no apparent reason, and the next she’s demanding spa treatments. While I start her massage, she picks up the remote and pulls up the movie.
