Page 32 of Raise The Bar
I had fully intended to tell Betty about kissing Callum when I got home from his place last Friday, but she was with Josh. Then I’d planned on telling her the next day, but I just couldn’t find the right opening. Betty is my best friend and closest confidante and I don’t keep things from her, most of the time. But I know that once I tell her, the interrogation will start. Right now, I’m just trying to live in the moment and not worry about what happens tomorrow and the day after that.
Her phone starts to ring in her hand and she looks down at the screen, frowning. “It’s my dad. I’m going to talk to him and then we’re going to continue this conversation,” she whispers, even though she hasn’t accepted the call from her dad. I give her the double thumbs up as she walks away, then promptly collapse into a chair. How can I tell her what’s going on when I don’t really know myself?
My sister’s words have been rattling around in my brain all week.Go after what you want. It’s my new motto. My personal theme song. It’s amazing how something so simple can seem so foreign. After a lifetime of doing what is expected of me instead of what I want, it’s not as simple as flicking a switch. But I’m working on it.
What do you want right now?
Looking around the kitchen I see the bottle of wine Betty opened earlier and take a closer look. After thinking about it for a moment, I put it back down and walk to the fridge. Inside, I find the unopened bottle of sauvignon blanc I bought on the weekend. I walk to the drawer of random oddities and dig around until I find the corkscrew. The old Maggie would have just poured herself a glass of red that was already open, but that is not what I want. I want a very cold glass of white in a long-stem glass.
An excellent start, I think as I walk to the living room and settle on the couch.
What do you want to tell Betty?
I want to tell her the truth. I don’t want to come up with lies or tell her what I think she wants to know. My mother always told my sister and I that deception is bad for your skin. And no part of me believes that Betty will judge me for my actions.
“Okay,” she says into her phone, coming back into the living room and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. Her hair is piled in a high-ponytail and it makes her look much younger than she is. “I love you too, Dad. Talk to you soon.” She places her phone on the table then leans back onto the couch, regarding me. “Spill.”
Deep breath.
“I kissed Callum last Friday.”
To say that Betty’s eyes go as wide as saucers would not be accurate. They are closer to soccer balls or hubcaps or side by side replicas of Captain America’s shield. As she stares at me, it feels like those green orbs make up two thirds of her face.
“I’m going to get my wine glass, and then you’re going to tell me everything.”
She gets her wine glass. I tell her everything, starting with Mark’s visit. I can tell she’s upset that I didn’t tell her about him before, but she doesn’t say anything. Betty takes another long drink from her wine glass, then sits there silently nodding her head, her long hair bobbing in its ponytail.
“Okay.” She sits up straighter, still nodding, like her brain has finished processing the new information and she’s ready to get to work. “What is your plan?”
I say the next part slowly, knowing it will be hard for her to hear. “I don’t have one.” She blanches a bit, but doesn’t react beyond that. For Betty, not having a plan to follow is like jumping out of a plane sans parachute.
But it’s kind of exciting, not knowing. I’ve always been the responsible one, faithfully following the plan I’d created for myself in high school. While I don’t regret the career I chose, what would my life be like if I’d decided to travel first, like June? How different would things be if I left Mark years ago?
I can’t change the past, but I can make changes going forward. I may launch an online business or just decide to expand my product line and sell locally. I may decide to start going on dates again with the men I’ve matched with online, or I might choose to delete the app forever. For the first time, I don’t know what I’m going to do, and I absolutely love it.
“It’s okay, Betts. You would think flying blind would feel reckless or scary, but it’s freeing. Right now I’m trying not to agonize about what I should do and just allow myself to do what I want. Does that make sense?”
“Of course!” She leans forward and places her hand on my knee. “I actually love this for you. You deserve to get everything you want, Mags.”
I would not trade this woman for anything. I relax, feeling a huge wave of relief from having someone else know what’s been on my mind all week.
“Thank you,” I say, meaning it.
“You’re welcome,” she beams back at me. “So you and Callum are…”
“Just friends. It was a one time thing.”
“So. How great was the kiss?”
“We’re going to need more wine.”
Betty practically sprints to the kitchen while I laugh at her eagerness. I get a text notification and reach for my phone.
Callum:Want to grab dinner tomorrow night? Talk business?
My thumbs hover above the screen, awaiting their orders.
What do you want to do, Maggie?
