Page 112 of Is This for Real?
My phone rings. Zelda and my sister keep calling me to check in on me. I think they’ve divided up a schedule.
“Hi, this is Vera. I’m calling aboutFake Dating Folly.”
It’s the Strawbundle Publishing editor. I’m sitting in my pajamas, my eyes still tired from this morning’s bout of crying. Time to pull myself together and shine.
“I really likedFake Dating Folly.”
I wait for the “but.”
“I do have some edits,” she says.
“Anything that makes it better. I’ve been revising it since I sent it to you. I can always see ways to improve it.”
“Well, we’d like to publishFake Dating Folly. I would like to work with you.”
I cry. Again. “I’m sorry, I’m just so happy.”
“It often happens. It’s one of the best parts of the job. I’ll send over my editorial letter and a contract, and you can let me know.”
I hang up and sit there in shock. Good chills go through my body. I’ve done it.Fake Dating Follyis going to be published. Rory’s mailbox is still full. I call Esther. And then Zelda. And then my sister. An unknown number calls when I’m in the middle of the call to my sister and I try to click over, but it doesn’t work. I get off the phone with my sister and listen to the voicemail message.
“It’s Rory.”
I clutch the phone closer, my heartbeat accelerating as I listen to his garbled message.
“I miss you. A lot. I'm sorry . . . back on Wednesday and I’ll see you at The Barn...my phone dropped in the lake, so I’m using my dad’s . . . fishing boat disaster. But I... see you then.”
I replay the message to see if I can understand any more. No.
I can’t tell if we’re back on or not from the message. I feel hot and cold. But he called, and at least we’re meeting in person.
Chapter forty-six
Duskissettlingin.I am early to meet Rory at The Barn, but I’m too nervous to wait any longer. The Citi Bike slides into its stall and clicks in. I wipe my hands on my jeans. Butterflies cavort in my stomach. Even though I think it will be good news, I am afraid. His message was so dry that I’m scared he may just want to remain friends.
I take off my helmet and fluff out my hair. I’m wearing just jeans and a sweater this time because it’s just me.
I walk down the street toward The Barn, the store lights welcoming in the hazy, darkish-blue light. Michaels is still there, as well as the new beignet store, which provided the beignets for our sailboat ride. Some people are heading home already, bent over, bundled up against the wind that pushes me forward. A plastic bag blows along the sidewalk.
A small flag flutters from a lamppost as I approach The Barn. It’s a piece of cloth tied with string onto the lamppost. Two hand-drawn stick figures are dancing on the cloth. They have fez hats.
Rory.
My heart feels like a balloon about to float up to the sky. I look around for Rory, but I don’t see him. I want to take this home. The next parking signpost holds another cloth flag. And another. The second is a stick figure couple, backs to each other, sad faces. I run to the third. It’s the stick figure couple kissing. I look up for Rory. He’s coming out of The Barn. I run to him and hug him. He hugs me tightly back.
“I’m sorry.” We both say it at the same time.
“Penelope, I’m so sorry. I was so wrong. I don’t need a break from you. Maybe from my dad. But I need you. Not a break. I just got so thrown and confused.”
“It’s okay, Rory. I understand. And I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. It’s just that . . . you know, I freaked out and got scared. And I was afraid to be vulnerable, but I realized that I want to be honest with you and that Icanbe honest with you. I love you. I really do love you. And I thought I loved Jamie, but that was just me trying to reconnect with my parents, but this is—”
“I love you, too,” he says against my mouth and kisses me, his arms holding me tight. “I think I’m good at forever if it’s with you.”
“Get a room,” someone says off to the side as she passes us.
We pull away reluctantly, but Rory still has his arms around me.
“I’m not really hungry for food,” I say.
