Page 52 of The Yes Factor

“Oh. My. God!” I scream and jump up and down like a high school cheerleader whose boyfriend just scored the winning touchdown at the homecoming game. I nearly knock over my grandmother’s vase on the side table from the flailing.

“I take it you’re not mad?” Liv says with a hopeful smile on her lips.

“Mad? Are you kidding! No! I’m thrilled, you minx! I don’t know how you did it, but you did it!” My voice is boiling over with energy and I feel like I’m floating two feet above the floor.

“Well, then.” Liv joins me in jumping up and down. Our hands clasped, our faces red, and our mouths open in wide smiles, reminding me of the day my eighth grade crush called me to ask me to go strawberry picking with him. Liv and I screamed like two cats in a bag.

“Bex?” A male voice. Devon’s voice. I stop in my tracks with my back toward the door.

I look at Liv, who is facing the front door and say as quietly as I can, “Don’t tell me…” She just nods in silent assent. Shit! I slowly turn around and attempt to get my breathing back to normal. I open the door.

“Sorry, I left my jacket on the back of the couch. I knocked a couple of times, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”

I glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, there is his denim jacket in plain sight. I’m mortified that he overheard me acting like a girl gone wild. I wipe off my damp brow with the back of my sleeve.

Then with a grin he says, “I’m excited too.” With that, he takes his jacket from Liv’s outstretched arm and starts to walk away. “I’ll talk to you soon!”

This time, Liv and I both stand at the front door as he heads to his truck and backs out of the driveway. No hiding behind the curtains this time. But standing like the women we are in full sight, waving and smiling, not ashamed of our excitement but proud of it.

* * *

Lying in bed, energized yet relaxed, I close out Amazon after making sure that the scraper I just bought is being shipped to the correct address. Popcorn ceiling, be gone! It’s time I made some changes around here. Out with the old, in with the new.

I then place my thumb over the Tinder icon on my screen until it quivers and the x appears. I proceed to delete it and every other dating app from my phone. I am so done with this millennial style of dating. I’m a single woman, living in a twenty-something dating world, but that doesn’t mean I have to play by these new rules.

“Buh bye, Tinder,” I mutter. I’m feeling confident about Devon and if I’m wrong, so what? I’ll just go out on my own if I feel like it, order myself a Pappy like the adult I am and see what happens. Maybe that Laker will make an encore appearance!

Content with my choice to delete the dating apps, I drop my phone onto my comforter and listen to Liv knock around in her room on the opposite side of the landing. I’m tempted to get up and go help her, but the need to just lie in bed and savor the surprise of today is too much. Liv really knocked it out of the park.

As I reach to turn out the bedside lamp, my phone rings. I purse my lips in annoyance, assuming it’s Patrick, but when I look at my phone, I see it’s Devon. Devon! The fact that he’s calling and not texting is such a shock! So atypical of every man I’ve interacted with in years, that I’m hesitant to answer. A phone call? How odd. How refreshing! Here we go, I think to myself. Time to say yes to new beginnings. I turn off the light, pick up the phone and simply say, “Hello.”

Chapter Nineteen

Cruising Altitude

LIV

“You got everything?” Bex says in her mom voice as we pull out of the driveway for the airport. “Passport, keys, phone, money.”

“You make it sound like you really don’t want me to leave anything behind.”

Bex slows to a stop at the curb and turns to look at me. “Liv, you know you can stay here anytime. I mean, you can come live here if you want to.”

“We’re too young to be the Golden Girls. But I’ll keep it in mind,” I joke away Bex’s sincerity. I hate goodbyes and I can’t believe it’s already time for me to go back home. Home…

Flashes of LA blur into one as we make our way to the airport.

“Hey, can we stop at the drug store? I want to pick up some eyeliner,” I say.

“Eyeliner?”

“Yeah, CoverGirl. I always stock up when I’m on this side of the pond, but I forgot until now. It won’t take long.”

“CoverGirl? Don’t you have all kinds of fancy French brands over there in London?”

“Have you tried Liquiline Blast?”

“I have not. But, let’s wait until we get closer to LAX. There’s a bigger CVS over there on La Cienega.”

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