Page 34 of The Romantic Agenda
Joy would never confess to having a romantic bucket list under oath, in a court of law. Its alleged existence may or may have not included a list of fifteen items she may or may not have wanted to experience someday. Hopefully with Malcolm, but seeing as how the alleged list began when she was in high school, she hadn’t had him in mind when writing it. His name filled in the alleged blanks much, much later.
If she had known she’d love sitting on a couch while a cute guy drew a temporary tattoo on her arm, she would have added it. Allegedly.
There’s also something on that alleged list she could do that night. “I kind of want to dress for dinner. I’m going to head upstairs and get ready.”
Fox doesn’t hide his surprise, replying, “Oh. Okay. I’ll see you later, then.”
Joy takes the time to properly unpack, hanging up her clothes so the wrinkles will fall out. She isn’t sure what she wants to wear yet. A poll on Rule of Thirds could help her decide, but she doesn’t feel like logging in. She must have posted close to twenty powershots of her on the boat. No need to punish her click-through rate any further.
According to the agenda, after the dinner they would watch a movie and then follow Summer’s lead for the rest of the night. She needs to be comfortable for that, but she isn’t quite ready for a pajama set. Her hand stills over one of the fancier dresses she brought. Because she has a date.
They’re “together” now. Joy has a “boyfriend.” Imagine that.
Besides being unsure about wanting kids, one more obstacle nagged at Joy: whether she’ll be a goodromanticpartner for Malcolm or not. She has being a supportive best friend mastered and down pat. They’re already affectionate. They have ten years of history behind them. They barely have any secrets. But something must change when the shift from friend to girlfriend occurs. There has to be some additional element she’s never experienced before.
What else will Malcolm expect from her? Will she be able to handle it?
Spending time with Fox can be her chance to find out if she’s even capable of going beyond connecting with someone. This is safe. It’s practice.
No one has to know she’s pretending it’s real. No one has to know she’s preparing for the real thing with Malcolm later.
Maybe she should wear something Fox would also like. Or something she thinks he would like, since she doesn’t know him well yet. She’s never gotten ready for a date before but has seen her sister and former roommates do it. There’s the shaving, the plucking, the running around with nerves, the outfit changes, the agonizing over which perfume to wear, the makeup and hair...
Joy used to love those nights—doing everything she could to help them feel beautiful, feel prepared and ready to conquer the world. Clothing and makeup as armor. Confidence and daring as their weapons of choice. And the way they would gas each other up, taking photos and laughing. That’s what she remembers most: the laughter and happiness. How supportive they all were of each other.
Her very first date and she’s getting ready alone. Being honest, that seriously bums her out a little. So, of course, she calls her sister.
“What are you doing?” Grace says when she picks up.
“I need help. I technically have a date tonight.”
Grace’s reaction goes from disbelief to screaming to full-blown witch-cackling when Joy tells her about Fox’s idea. “That’s diabolical and Ifuckinglove it! Yes! Take me to the closet right now.”
Joy’s white floral lace maxi dress number won the night. The deep V-neckline on a princess-seamed bodice, the short cap sleeves, the delicate buttons in the back, the flowy skirt; no shoes, just summer fairy queen vibes; lips and toes painted a vibrant plum color—the perfect balance between casual and ethereal. She painstakingly piled her braids up into a high ponytail to show off her teardrop-shaped amethyst earrings.
“Okay,” Summer says when she sees her. “Next time you go shopping, youhaveto take me with you. Please, please teach me your ways.”
Joy isn’t sure if she can trust the awestruck cadence in Summer’s voice because she’s been fooled before. But... it felt like a genuine compliment? If Malcolm hadn’t looped his heartstrings around her, Joy suspects she might like her.
It just sucks that everything with Summer so far had to be viewed through so many different lenses. It’s kind of exhausting. Stripping everything else away, and letting Summer stand on her own, she reminds Joy of Megan, who pops by her office every day just to wish her a radiantly cute good morning.
Fox enters the dining room, immediately stopping short. “Whoa.”
“Hey, hey.” Joy smiles as she watches him drink her in. His gaze travels from the base of her dress up to her face in one uninterrupted, leisurely motion.
“You lookgreat. I, um,wow.” Fox blinks in what looks like adoration masked by disbelief.
Times like these, when people suddenly get shocked into speechlessness, Joy usually makes jokes likeI hate to break it to you, but I’m very beautiful. Sorry you didn’t notice beforeto help them recover. A quick shot of too much self-aware confidence somehow always brings people back down to earth. She’s learned, over and over and over, that no one likes a woman who thinks too highly of her looks and is daring enough to speak on it.
But not this time. For once, she wants to revel in the feeling of someone she wants to see her this way appreciating the work she’s put in to look nice for them.
Joy meets his gaze with a pleased smile. “I feel great too.”
Malcolm drops a metal spoon on the ground. It clangs against the floor, splashing sauce everywhere. “Sorry.” He’s looking directly at her—she knows it’s not on purpose. He can’t help it. All the attention in the room belongs to Joy now. “Slipped out of my hand.”
Dinner is a fabulous affair courtesy of Malcolm’s skill. Seared scallops with brown butter and lemon sauce, butternut squash steaks also with delicious brown butter, salad topped with blood oranges, and an impossibly creamy risotto with crispy roasted mushrooms.
“I made the salad,” Summer says sheepishly. “The rest was too advanced for me.”
