Page 70 of 12 Days of Mistletoe

Meg: Ask him out. Like on a real date, not a fake date.

But the thought has my heart pattering like a thunderstorm and Noel pushing her nose into my palm.

I take ten more steps, my phone out, my eyes rereading her question again and again.

Meg: Bonnie?

I pause next to another icy light pole—sorry, Mitz.

Me: I’m here. But I’m not sure how he feels. We still have another week of fake dating to do.

Meg: Sister. You’re not sure how he feels? I am. Either he likes you or he’s a sleaze bag and you need to ditch him.

Me: He’s not a sleaze. He’s a good person.

Meg: A guy doesn’t kiss a girl like that if he doesn’t like her. There’s either sleaziness happening or attraction happening.

Me: Attraction isn’t the same as liking someone.

I write, then start up my walk again before Mitzie decides to make a home and a lover out of that very innocent light pole.

Meg sends a GIF of the Little Mermaid impatiently blowing her bangs into the air.

Meg: I’m bringing in Autumn.

I jerk to a halt and poor Mitzie is jerked at the collar with my sudden stop. Noel, who has been trotting right next to me, anticipated the pause. See how smart my girl is?

Me: Autumn? Why do we need to bring anyone else into this conversation?

Meg: Because I’ve never faked my feelings before. We need a professional to assess the situation and help you out.

Me: And Autumn is a professional?

Meg: Oh, yeah. She pretended to NOT have feelings for her husband for a decade of her life. She’s the professional of all professionals when it comes to hiding how you feel.

Three minutes later, Mitzie is a block and a half farther into her walk and Autumn has been informed of the situation.

Fabulous.

Why not just announce my situation on social media, Meg? Let’s tell the whole wide world. Ugh.

I shove my tantrum aside and listen up—because Meg is a smart woman and Autumn might be helpful.

Autumn: Take it from someone who knows, Bonnie, the sooner you fess up, the better.

This conversation has taken a turn. A confessional turn and I am not a fan.

Me: Confess to what? That I MIGHT like the guy. I might. I’ve only known him for a week.

Autumn: Hmm. I would have guessed longer, seeing the two of you together.

Meg: Let’s be clear—it’s been more than a week! He started leaving her notes six months ago. Try again, little sister.

Autumn: I’m confused.

Me: He sent me notes telling me no dogs were allowed in the building. Not exactly get-to-know-you stuff.

Meg: He told her that she needed to get rid of her dog or he’d inform the owner. (Who happens to be his grandma, btw.)

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