Page 9 of The Romantic Agenda
The sun is starting to rise when she knocks on her neighbor’s door forty-five minutes before she’s supposed to be at Malcolm’s house.
Mrs. Norman, an early riser, squints at Joy through a crack in the door. “Joy, baby? Is that you?”
“Yeah,” she says. Pepper meows inside her carrier. “And Pepper.”
She opens the door, adjusting her robe soon after. Mrs. Norman is old enough to be Joy’s grandma and kind of looks like her too. Her hair is in pink spongy rollers secured by a black net and white scarf. Full of kindness, her eyes twinkle with the mischief of a life well lived, and she has a knowing patience that only comes from having seen it all. Joy absolutely adores her to the moon and back.
“Everything okay?”
“I know this is last minute, but do you think you could watch Pepper for a few days?”
“Oh, of course, come on in, baby, come in. Let me make you some tea,” she says, ushering them inside. “Was that you I heard making all that fuss late last night?”
“Yeah.” Joy laughs awkwardly. “That was me.”
“Crying and hollering like the world was ending—I swear on my sweet John, God rest his soul, I almost came right on over to check on you, yes I did. Had me over here worried out my mind.”
Joy leans against the small bar as she watches Mrs. Norman flit around the kitchen, spry as ever. “Sorry about that. I’m feeling better now.”
Mrs. Norman gives her a knowing side-eye, waiting for the rest of the story.
“You’re as bad as Grace.” Joy exhales into a reluctant laugh. “It’s about Malcolm.”
“Iknewit.” She shakes her head as she retrieves two mugs from the cabinet. “You know, I have a grandson about your age.”
“Not you too. Please. My mom has the wholelet’s set Joy up with a bunch of strangersthing covered.”
“Now, now, hear me out. He’s smart with a good job, handsome. You should let me introduce you. Let me get you his number.”
“That’s okay,” Joy says quickly. “Thank you, but no. I’m really not interested in dating right now.”
Because she’s only interested in Malcolm. He doesn’t know this, but he’s inadvertently broken Joy’s heart exactly four timessince they met. Each time after, he pieced it back together again as if it never happened. Not a single crack or seam left uncared for.
This time, though, she’ll hand her heart directly to him. For better or for worse.
There’s never going to be anyone else for Joy. Ithasto be Malcolm.
Three
FRIDAY
Not a single red light or stop sign slowed Joy down on the way to Malcolm’s house. Clearly a surefire sign she’s on the right path because everyone knows when you’re desperate to get somewhere you hit every roadblock imaginable.
But as she’s sitting in her parked car near his driveway, Joy’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. “Get out of the car,” she says to herself. “Get. Out. Of. The. Car.” If thisisher right path, then why does she suddenly feel like the most intense hangover of her life has slammed into her like a freight train? Head throbbing, stomach churning, balance gone, ready and willing to get up close and personal with a toilet bowl—she didn’t drinkthatmuch wine last night.
“This is a bad idea. A terrible idea. The worst,” she whispers. Trying to steal her best friend when he’s clearly interested in someone else feels like a supremely shitty thing to do—nodenying that. There’s also the tiny problem that she’s never tried to seriously pursue anyone in her life.
Starting a romance always seems easy enough in movies. There’s the adorkable approach. The fake dating disaster. The good girl gone bad ploy. Her primary inspiration—the conniving best friend caper—had a happy ending, but certainly not the one Joy wanted for her life.
Just the thought of all that lying and sabotage... dear god, hernerves. She isn’t going to make it. As soon as she gets out of the car (she’s never getting out of the car), she’ll walk up to Malcolm’s door, go inside, and promptly puke everywhere as soon as they make eye contact.
The problem is that Malcolm knows her too well. The second she starts, well,acting, he’ll suspect something is up and immediately ask her about it. He’ll be concerned and she’ll be speechless while being boiled alive by shame.
Joy takes a deep breath, willing herself to find her happy place. The memory of the first time she realized she fell in love with him. All of him. There are so many kinds of love out there and the way she felt about Malcolm in that moment didn’t have a name. It felt like forever moving in slow motion. An unconditional bond cemented by infinity. They wouldalwaysbe together. No matter what.
The romantic feelings came later, ushered in by thoughts of the future and family and growing old together. Intensifying when her eldest sister got engaged and had a lavish destination wedding. When her friends started moving in with their partners, buying furniture, adopting furbabies, and havingactualbabies. When she began living in her apartment alone.
Even if Malcolm doesn’t love her back romantically, he’ll never leave her. But that doesn’t mean the fall won’t leave her crushedand heartbroken in the end. That’s the risk she’s taking. And he’s worth it.
