Page 44 of About That Night

Yet I’m oddly looking forward to an evening of oyster tasting with friends and my son.

Chapter Thirteen

Chastity

“Will you stop?” Nevaeh asks me in exasperation, loitering in the door of our bathroom. “You’ve redone your top knot four times. It’s a top knot.”

I stare at myself in the mirror, then down at my phone to the picture on Instagram I was trying to imitate. The woman in the photo has artful, messy hair. Mine is just…messy. Not cute-messy. Not a casual we’re-just-friends-hanging-out top knot. It’s an I-don’t-have-clean-laundry half-bun. I rip the hairband out, which yanks the roots of my hair more than I was anticipating. My eyes water.

“I’m coming. Do I look…”

“Hungry? Thirsty? Eager? Nervous? Yes. All of the above. I’m the one going on a date, remember? Not you.” She gives me a pointed look.

I blow out a breath and put the hair band around my wrist. I wrinkle my nose at myself in the mirror. She’s right. I do look eager and nervous, which is annoying. I’ve tried on four different sweaters, which are all basically variations of the same theme. Boring and too small. My makeup is from an online company that sells at prices so low that I’m afraid to consider how that’s even possible.

“I’m happy you have a date. She seems like your type.”

Nevaeh always seems to go for girls who wear trucker hats turned backwards with plaid or flannel shirts over T-shirts. She definitely knows what she likes. Unlike me.

“She does. And Parker seems super chill. Obviously, since she agreed to go to a random oyster-tasting pop-up with me. Now put down the mascara, seriously. Do not put mascara on.”

I drop the mascara like it’s hot. She’s right. I never wear mascara, and I’m going to now? That’s sending the wrong message.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Where’s Josiah? He better not have my phone.” I pat my pocket.

“You have your phone. It’s literally in your hand.”

Oh, Jesus. She’s right. I’m officially a meme. Sometimes I think I have it together, then I use the flashlight on my phone to find my phone.

“I’m losing it. Where is my child?”

“Josiah is waiting by the front door. He’s excited to see Hank.”

That makes two of us.

“Are we picking up Parker?”

“No, she’s meeting us there. That way, she can bounce if she hates me. Or all of us.” Nevaeh grins.

Her attitude about that is much healthier than mine. I haven’t heard back from Nick about our coffee date, and I’m already reading too much into it. Like that Hank was right and he’s too young. That me being a single mom has given him cold feet, even though I’ve been very upfront about that on my profile, and he’s done nothing to indicate he feels that way.

“I’m driving,” Nevaeh tells me. “Your palms are sweaty.”

“They are not.”

“Why are you so crazy right now? You’d think you were going to dinner with this Dylan guy, not just over to Hank’s for oysters.”

“I don’t know.” I really don’t. Hank has seen me naked. This is nothing. “I just want to set down roots here and meet people and…have fun? I don’t know.”

“Have fun that doesn’t involve knitting? I’m all for that.”

“Knitting is therapeutic. You should try it.”

“Yeah, okay, no thank you. I’d rather watch people cleaning car mats. And I don’t mean that sarcastically.”

“I know all about your love of cleaning videos.”

“Have you seen the ones where they use that little machine on the stovetop? Girl…I want to buff a stove after those.”

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