Page 100 of Sparks
Holly made a little sound like, “Oh…” All I could do was press my lips together and watch him.
“All right then.” He put his hat on. “You ladies have a good day.”
Silas stood to leave, and I looked at Holly. We stared at each other until he was gone.
“What was that?” I asked. He’d definitely been overly formal and stiff, but he was talking to me, which was an improvement over the stranger-treatment he’d given me last time I’d seen him.
“Well,” she said slowly. “A couple things just happened. One, he was trying to be friendly again. It was awkward but at least he’s trying. And two, he made it very clear that his marriage is over.”
“Yeah.” My throat had gone dry. “And he’s clean, so that’s good.”
She choked a laugh. “Oh, my God. I almost died when he said that. He’s hardcore. But good for him.”
“He wasn’t hitting on me, right?” I asked, afraid I was losing my touch. “I didn’t get that vibe.”
Her forehead creased. “No, it seemed like he was making an effort to be strictly friendly.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. “I can do that.” If Silas was making an effort to be my friend still, that was a good thing. I would take it. And until he was officially divorced, that’s how it had to stay.
It was time to get back to normal.
As our six month anniversary from Barbie Bootcamp came, us Sky Muffins graduated to non-probationary full-time Flight Attendants. Our benefits kicked in. Our pay went up a notch. And we were given set schedules instead of being on call.
With those changes came an influx of new flight attendants and pilots fresh out of training, or those who’d been transferred from other hubs, and those who left Newark to be at different venues. Our roommate Viola moved in with the guy on Long Island, and a Sky Muffin took her place in the crash pad. Macy was tall, thin, blond, and super chatty, but sweet.
The thought of trying to get to know men and go through the online dating process was not sitting well on my tongue these days, so I deleted Sparks and focused on my job and friends. We went out a lot more now that we knew for sure which days we had off.
In July I went to a spontaneous Broadway show with Willa and we walked around Times Square, laughing, flirting, and living our best lives. In August I got up at the buttcrack of dawn with Rhea, Holly, and Cheryl and we drove to Atlantic City where we laid in the sun for several hours on the beach before heading into the casinos for the night. We all did our best Jacquie impressions, dressing as hot as we possibly could and making men trip over their dicks all night. I’d never smiled so hard in all my life.
In September I kissed two men at two different bars in Hoboken on the same night. And when they asked for my number, Syd and Willa dragged my drunk behind out of the bars. Then in October I Googled Shawn Fowler. The first thing to pop up was a marriage announcement in Charlotte’s online paper. I clicked the link with my fingers against my throat.
Shawn was in his full Marine regalia and hat, smiling bigger than I’d ever seen. On his arm was a beautiful woman with curly brown hair pinned up, a white off-the-shoulder gown, also smiling huge. The caption read:Marine officer, Major Shawn Fowler of Raleigh, marries Charlotte native Natalie Renstein on October 3rdat Charlotte Methodist Church. The couple and their son reside on Okinawa Japan’s military base.
I felt some kind of way that day. My body went through all of the motions. Should I cry? I felt like I should, and for a second I was huffing on air like a good jag was about to happen, but then I settled and what was left behind was a fog of remorse, followed by the relief of closure. Part of me had been waiting, wondering if Shawn would come back into my life someday. But we weren’t meant to be. I guess they were, and good for them. I was only the slightest bit bitter at their big fucking smiles. One thing was for certain, though. I’d never be googling Shawn Fowler again.
Two days before Halloween it was my birthday and we were going out on the town: the Big Apple. It was finally boots and sweater weather, and we were feeling good as we got off the subway, laughing, feeling like we belonged on television with our cute selves kicking leaves as we went. Willa had switched flights with someone so she could make it since she usually got in late on Thursdays.
We went to a four-story nightclub because all I wanted to do was dance and listen to music so loud I couldn’t hear myself think. One hour into it, I was feeling good on the dance floor and eyeing the club for a kissing-target when I saw a familiar face. I stared at the man and as soon as our eyes met I realized who it was.
Dean! The first guy I’d met and spoken to on Sparks! His head tilted to the side and his eyes squinted as if trying to place me, and then his face lit up. I went straight over, weaving my way through the dancing bodies.
“Dean, right?”
“Yes! I’m trying to remember. You have a cool name. Don’t tell me…” He made a scrunched up thinking face and blurted, “Harlow!”
“Yes!” We both laughed, and I gave him a hug. His cologne was nice.
“It’s good to meet you,” I said.
“Your pictures don’t do you justice.” He pulled back to look me up and down. I waved an arm for him to stop. “You’ve been off the app for a while. Boyfriend?”
“No,” I said.
“Are you sure? Because that guy over there is giving me the death glare.”
Huh? I followed his gaze to the bar and my stomach did an ungraceful pirouette at the sight of Silas watching us. He raised a glass and nodded when I saw him. I stared stupidly because it was beyond bizarre to see Silas out in public like this. Even in the past six months since he’d been separated, he never hung out with us.
Out of nowhere, Holly was beside me with my arm in her hand. “Um, hey,” she said, darting a glance at Dean then over to Silas. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited Silas!”
