Page 6 of Fool Me

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Slanting, mid-morning rays highlighted the jaunty angles of the fifties vintage sign over Rick’s Diner as Sadie tugged open the front door the following Sunday morning. Inside, the morning light set the sweaty water glasses at the thirty or so tables and booths aglow.

Sadie headed straight for “their” booth, where Monique and Ginny already waited. Ginny stood to let Sadie slide into the center of the curved bench seat. A hot mug of creamy coffee smiled at her, and her mouth watered at the sight of flapjacks and strawberries on a neighboring table. Even the booth seat welcomed her with its vinyl squeak.

“Good morning!” she chirped once she’d settled in.

As per their longstanding tradition, all three lifted their mugs and gently clinked them over the center of the table. “To Mom and Dad,” they said in unison.

Rick’s Diner had always been a part of Sadie’s life. Sunday brunch at ten had become the sisters’ sacred ritual since their parents’ passing. A drunk driver hit their car head on, killing them both, as they drove home from the high school graduation party of one of Sadie’s friends. The teen driver lost his life too, and so the tragic event had been oddly final—no court case, no justifiable anger at the foolish young person. Sadie in particular was crushed with pre-grief for the thousand-and-one life events they would no longer share with their parents, and so Monique had come up with the Sunday brunch plan. At least they would never lose sight of each other’s lives, and that was more than could be said for a lot of families.

Their weekly toast to their beloved parents complete, they moved on to the new ritual they had added after learning of the odd stipulation in Great Aunt Lydia’s will.

“No dates for me,” Monique announced.

“Date free,” Ginny confirmed.

Sadie drummed her fingernails on the table, trying to figure out how to break the news. The simplest way seemed the best. “I…don’t really have a date planned, but, in a way, I have three.”

Monique’s sip of coffee dribbled down her chin. “What? Already?”

“It just happened at work yesterday. Crazy story.”

“Then let’s order first,” Ginny said. “I’m starving.” She reached for a menu, but Monique scooped up the stack and deposited them on her lap. “Hey!”

“No food till these dates that aren’t dates are cancelled,” Monique said.

Sadie did a pouty flounce in her seat. “They’re not dates, and I’m not cancelling them.”

Over the next few minutes, she explained in a low whisper what had happened at work, how she’d seen a guy from college again, and the arrangement that would earn her a speaking part in a major movie starring her idol, Julia Menlo.

“Seems legit to me,” Ginny said, craning her neck toward the menus on Monique’s lap. “Identical hair. Fake dates. Can we order now? I’m about to eat my own stomach, and that won’t be pretty.”

“I don’t know,” Monique said, giving Sadie side-eye. “Is this Grant guy good looking? He must be if Julia Menlo whisks him off to secret beaches.”

Sadie pressed a finger to her lips as she glanced at the nearby tables to make sure no one had reacted to Julia’s name. To her relief, Rick’s hashbrowns were much more riveting than anything being said at booth twelve. “Shhhhhh! Please, call her J. And, technically, yes, Grant’s good looking. But he’s good looking in an ‘I-get-everything-I-want-just-for-existing’ kind of way, and you know I can’t stand that.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “Uh…in what universe can you not stand that?”

Sadie’s cheeks flushed. Her sisters could be so frustrating. “Don’t you remember how much I hated Grant in college? I must have mentioned him to you at some point.”

Monique stared into the air over Sadie’s head as if trying to remember, then clicked her tongue. “Give us a refresher.”

“It was so gross,” Sadie said. “One by one he dated and dumped every single one of my three roommates, which meant he was constantly hanging around our apartment, having dinner, studying with us, going on day trips and stuff. I don’t know how they each fell for him like that, knowing how he’d treated the last one. I guess they each thought they’d be ‘the one’ or something. As if! All he had to do was flash his stupid, perfect, sexy smile and they were done for. I mean, seriously? I couldn’t believe it. By the end, they all hated him as much as I did. Nowadays, we just refer to him as the Golden Dumpster.”

“Hold up,” Ginny said. She folded her arms on the table. “You hate him because he behaved like every other college student who’s ever existed?”

Sadie shook her head so vigorously the room became a blur. “It absolutely wasn’t that. I’m not done explaining. At the start of his junior year, he took an intro theater class, and wouldn't you know he loved it? He switched his major from business to theater and now I was stuck with him in practically all my classes and productions. By the time we graduated, I could barely stand to look at him.”

“The Golden Dumpster has done well for himself though,” Monique said.

“Of course he has!” She realized she was yelling and repeated herself in a whisper. “Of course he has.”

“Maybe there is something special about him, and you just haven’t seen it,” Ginny teased.

“No, no, there’s nothing. The guy’s a mashed potato sandwich on white bread with the crusts cut off. All he’s got is ocean blue eyes and a cute butt. That’s it.” She pictured him in her mind. “Okay, and a jaw carved from alpha-male marble, but that’s it.”

“Don’t forget the sexy smile,” Ginny said.

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