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Better Half: He agreed to the chaperone?
I winced. She wasn’t going to like this.
Bestie: He did me one better. He’s bringing a chaperone of his own.
Better Half: …
Bestie: That’s it? Just dots?
Better Half: Sorry. Finding it difficult to multi-task. I’m trying to reserve you a spot in the darkest corner of hell and looking for cheap airfare to Timbuktu. Just can’t confirm if they have good internet coverage there. A girl has to work you know.
Ava was beautiful but curvy.
No. No but.
Ava was beautiful and curvy. Why should curvy be considered a negative? Going out on blind dates, and meeting men, was dicey. For anyone. The response to her curves was varied, but her trepidation about it never wavered.
Bestie: You sell yourself short.
Better Half: I am short. Sigh. I love you. I’ll go. You owe me. Not just owe me. You OWE me as in I OWN you.
Bestie: Deal.
Better Half: Gotta go live in 2 minutes. Don’t watch. I’ll be bitching about you.
Bestie: LOL! I’ll definitely be watching.
I watched Ava’s channel and laughed when she talked about me, looking into the camera as if she could drill holes into me through the screen. Then I flipped through several online websites of nearby art dealers.
By the time I slipped into bed, my brain danced and spun with ideas for my accent wall, and I’d successfully repacked my unspent dreams into the box tucked away at the back of my brain.
I vowed to leave them there this time.
Shortly before drifting off, my mental list made it onto the pad of paper I kept beside my bed.
For the first time in a long time, I planned to do something strictly for myself.
It felt good.
Perhaps more of that could be in order.
Blame it on the Bellboy
Hope
The first time I left Brayleigh at daycare, I stood outside the door and cried like a baby.
Lucky offered to come with me, but I declined.
I never liked for anybody to see me cry. Part of the residue of hanging out with boys all my life. Boys did not cry.
Thank God it worked out. Not sure how I would have coped otherwise. Why was I even thinking about this?
I waved to Giovanni, pointing at my watch to indicate I’d see him on my break, and rode the elevator to my floor.
Was it the threat of more travel?
Threat seemed like a poor word choice.Opportunity. The opportunity for more travel would mean I’d spend more time away from Brayleigh but by the time Maeve stepped down, Brayleigh would probably be in kindergarten. I’d be more than ready to step up.
