Page 43 of Forgettable in Every Way

“Spit it out, woman.” Calista playfully tossed some loose ribbon at me.

I caught it and smiled. “Here it goes: Remember at the hospital when you said that you thought Simon wanted to be more than my friend? Well, um, who knew? You were right.”

Calista’s hazel eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Shut the front door. I knew it. But how do you know?”

“I’m not sure exactly how this happened, but Simon was randomly—or not so randomly—everywhere I went this weekend. It’s hard to tell. But anyway, Saturday he showed up at the mountain biking trail I was going to ride, and yesterday we ended up having the same tee time at the golf course. Where I handily beat him,” I said with pride.

Quinn giggled.

“I won’t hold it against you that you went to the country club.” Calista grinned. “Because I need all the details. So, spill the tea, sister.”

I gripped my chair for support. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but on the bike ride, I got stung by a bee, on my butt, no less.”

They all snickered.

“I know. Totally mortifying. The worst part was Simon had to pull the stinger out for me.”

The snickers turned into full-blown fits of laughter.

Someday, I might laugh about it too, but today was not that day. I waited for the laughter to die down before I continued. “While in my precarious situation, I basically blurted out how much he’d hurt me, and without so many words, I probably admitted I’d been in love with him forever. I thought he was going to run away screaming at that point. But I’m pretty sure he enjoyed the view he got of my butt, and then he said he was going to chase me.”

“And ... how do you feel about that?” Calista asked carefully.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Confused. I mean, I’ve wanted this for the last thirteen years of my life, but the man forgot about me. And now here he is chasing me and looking up over four thousand facts for every day we’ve been apart for the last twelve years. Not to mention he keeps saying things like I’m the loveliest creature he’s known. And let’s not forget his son thinks I’m a princess, and every time that little guy hugs me, I feel my heart soar and melt like never before. Is that weird? Should I get that checked out?”

Calista grinned, stood, walked over to my side of the table, and sat next to me before putting an arm around my shoulders. “I think I can safely rule out any heart defects.”

I leaned my head against hers. “What do I do?”

“What do you want to do?”

That was an excellent question. “Kiss him. Whack him with my golf club. It’s a toss-up. What if the universe is just testing me to see if I’m over my doormat ways?”

“First of all, we’ve established that you’re not a doormat. Secondly, what if the universe is righting a wrong and giving you a shot at love?”

“Are you just saying that because you want to listen to Simon’s audiobooks again?” I teased.

Calista laughed while Stella furiously fanned herself like she’d been listening to them too.

“Excuse me, I’m going to go get some ice water.” Stella stood and bolted for her kitchen. She’d definitely been listening to Simon’s books. It was probably the only romance she was getting. Per Calista, Stella was on a no-man diet.

Quinn rolled her eyes and chased after her mom.

“You know I would never sell you out just so I can listen to the man’s voice,” Calista assured me. “Now if you choose, of your own accord, to pursue him, well then, I might partake.”

“Just promise not to tell me. I don’t know how I feel about you getting amorous off my would-be boyfriend’s voice.” That was such a bizarre thought—that Simon could be my boyfriend. All I had to do was say the word. That word was harder to say than I ever imagined it would be. It appalled my twenty-two-year-old self to think I could barely say the word.

“Deal.” She squeezed me. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. How can I trust that any of this is real or that he won’t forget about me again?”

“That’s the scary thing about love. There are no guarantees. But ... I do believe in second chances.”

“But Simon has never been in love with me.”

“Jules, friendship is the best sort of love around. It’s an amazing jumping-off point if you decide to dive in.”

That was a beautiful thought. But ... “What if it doesn’t work out?” I whined, scared.

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