Page 54 of Is This for Real?
Me:Publisher interested!
Rory:Yes!
I turn back to my manuscript. Two thousand words and then I’ll do a blog post. I can’t believe a publisher is finally interested. I can barely sit still. I’m buzzing with joy. My body feels like one of those sparklers on the Fourth of July.
But it’s not a done deal yet.
I add more details to the art opening scene based on Saturday night, and then I write a scene where Rob and Piper are sharing a room as fake dates while attending Rob’s ex-girlfriend’s wedding. Piper decides to wear sweatpants to bed, along with her sports bra, and Rob is also wearing sweatpants. He jokes that they’re ready to work out in the morning. As Piper lies there, listening to Rob’s breathing, she is frustrated by their fake dating situation. All the other guests have commented on how happy they look together and how glad they are that Rob has found “his perfect match.” Even his ex said it. She had thought fake dating would create an intimacy that would lead to dating, but maybe it is also creating this “perfect relationship” that hinders actual communication.
When I finally stop to go to the bathroom, I realize I’ve written three thousand words.
My blog and miniature Instagram posts have garnered lots of likes and comments. This new storyline of Piper hanging out with Rob is really taking off. I’ve left it ambiguous as to whether they are actually dating; much speculation abounds in the comments. After the post where Julian asked Piper to meet for dinner, the feedback in the comments was mixed as to whether she should meet him. Most suggested drinks, not dinner, so she could exit quickly if need be.
I created a mini scene where Piper had drinks with Julian. Julian announced that he was engaged, but they committed to remaining friends. It was all exceedingly proper. I kept the bartender nearby so they never looked like they were alone. And I left the lighting very bright. I can’t believe Rory’s mother follows my blog. Piper was about to ask Rob to come as her fake date to the wedding, so I could finally conform the plotline of my blog toFake Dating Folly, but maybe that’s too revealing of reality for Rory’s mom. Unless Rory tells her we’re fake dating.
Later that afternoon, I arrive at my sister’s apartment to babysit, and she pulls me into the kitchen because she’s started cooking dinner for me and the kids. Luckily, it’s spaghetti night; the sauce smells of basil and green peppers.
I put down my backpack with my laptop. I’ll continue writing once the kids go to bed.
Olivia puts a pot of water on the stove to boil. Then she turns and gives me a look. It’s not a good look. It’s a lecture-is-coming look. “You know, I thought about it, and it didn’t seem to me that you and Rory are dating.”
I can feel my eyes widen. I step back. “Why?”
“Are you dating or not?”
“Why don’t you think we’re dating?”
Olivia rolls her eyes. “You want to play this game?”
“No, you’re right. We’re not dating. We’re fake dating for book research. And for Rory’s work.”
“Why did you tell me you were dating, then?”
“Because I thought you wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret otherwise. And you would tell Jamie and Theresa. Please don’t tell them that we’re not dating.”
“I can’t believe you lied to me. We’re sisters. We’re family. Family should come first.”
“I agree. Then why don’t you keep my secrets? Why did you tell Theresa about that agent’s rejection, the one where she told me to forget about this book and write my next one? You know Theresa thinks I should just give up on this ‘writing hobby.’ Why give her any material to feed that?”
“She supports your ambitions; she just worries. I was using that advice as an example of how you’re committed,” Olivia says. “You take these things too seriously.”
“You know I do,” I say. “And why did you bring up that I drew a million pictures of Jamie when I’m with Rory, who you thought was my new boyfriend? How is that at all helpful?”
“I stopped talking about the drawing when you told me to,” Olivia says. “And at that point, I knew you and Rory were not dating. And Jamie was flirting with you, so I thought I was helping fan the flames. What about Jamie? Maybe you should go pick out a dog with him.”
“No, I think I’ve truly gotten over him. And you know if I went to the pound, I’d come home with a dog, if not two.” The water is now boiling. As am I. I need to calm down before I say something I regret. I add the pasta. “So, why didn’t you think we were dating? We needed to persuade his work colleagues last week that we were together. Someone keeps hitting on him, and he wants to deter her. But it seemed to work.”
“I don’t know. It’s probably just that you didn’t look at him like you’d slept together.”
“How do you know what I look like then?”
“I know how you used to look at Michael.”
I deflate. Michael was my first serious boyfriend. I was on cloud nine when we started dating. He met my parents and Olivia and John on Christmas break. I am sure I looked at him like I adored him. Which I did—until he disappeared when my parents died. “Well, I’ve changed.”
“Yes.” Olivia’s mouth turns down. “Still, you veered between being on edge with each other and then really relaxed.” She leans against the counter.
I nod. “That’s perceptive. That about describes it.”
