I can see the moment when the words click for Ethan. “Ah,” is all he says, drawing a long, slow sip of his beer. “Alright, give that new profile of yours a few days to work its magic then we’ll talk.”
***
By Tuesday, I have negotiated my way from a pony to a unicorn.
I’ve also been asked on an actual date: a movie on Friday night.
Brian is a self-proclaimed nerd, which suits me fine. I’ve always liked nerdy guys. He only has one profile picture, which is a little blurry, but I can see that he has nice eyes and a short beard. But most importantly, he seems funny and easy to talk to. We’ve been messaging back and forth all week leading up to our date.
But on Friday afternoon, the dread creeps in.
It’s been a long time since I went on a first date. In fact, it’s a stretch to say that I’ve ever really been on one. Jeremy and I just sort of ended up together after a few weeks of bumping into each other around campus and hanging out together in the common room. If we had a first date, it was a late-night pizza run at a little place near campus followed by making out in his dorm room. But by then, we knew each other pretty well and were already headed for a committed relationship.
This will be different, and there’s only one person I can think of to ask for any last-minute advice.
After I finish my work and power down my computer on Friday evening, I stop by Ethan’s office. This is not unusual. Wenever leave for the day without a quick chat, but normally it’s about work, not last-minute dating advice.
When I walk into Ethan’s office, he looks up at me then down at the purse hanging from my shoulder.
“Taking off?” he asks.
“Yeah, I have a date.” I try to make it sound casual, as if I routinely go on dates after work, but it comes out more like a question.
Ethan pivots, leaning back in his chair and focusing all of his attention on me. Smirking, he asks, “With pony boy?”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, withBrian.”
A low chuckle rises from Ethan’s chest. “Okay, just remember what I said about the van… and text me afterwards so I know you got home safe.”
Surprised by his request, I stammer, “That’s okay, you don’t need to…”
But he sits forward in his seat, expression turning serious. “Margot, there are a ton of weirdos out there. If Emma were here, she’d want you to check in after your date to make sure you’re okay. Since it’s my brother’s fault that she’s halfway around the world at the moment, that responsibility falls to me. Just promise me you’ll let me know when you’re home safe, okay?”
“Okay,” I nod. “I will.”
“Alright, have a good night then. Be safe.”
A tiny, unexpected flutter of relief washes over me. At least there will be a search party if my date turns out to be an axe murderer.
Ethan’s eyes linger on mine for a second before he turns his attention back to the computer. I wonder how much longer he’s planning to work. I wonder if he has a date of his own tonight. Most of all, I wonder why that thought sits a little wrong in my chest.
10
Ethan
The house in Littleton is dark when I pull into the driveway. The carriage lights need new bulbs—one of many things I need to take care of before Rachel and Sophia move in this weekend.
Paul called late last night to let me know that Rachel signed the lease, but she needed to push the move-in date up to Saturday.ThisSaturday. As in, tomorrow.
It’s not ideal, but I have to make it work.
I slide my key into the lock and open the front door. The living room is filled with stuff: boxes stacked high, a sofa set still wrapped in plastic pushed up against the wall. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. Sure, buying a house to rent out to my ex-wife is arguably gettingwayahead of myself, but I reasoned that I could always rent it out to someone else if this fell through. It’s a popular neighborhood, apparently with very high rental rates, and it’s not like I’m hurting for money if I didn’t find a tenant right away.
But now that the move-in date is set, I have to let myself believe that this is really happening. Which means pulling anall-nighter to get this place ready. I blow out a deep breath and decide to start by unboxing the cookware since it seems like an easy enough task.
It isn’t.
Every single piece is wrapped in layers of cardboard, plastic, and Styrofoam, leaving tiny white beads clinging to everything. All of this needs to be washed and dried before it’s put away. Cookware, plates, forks, knives, glasses, cooking utensils… the list goes on and on. It’ll take me an hour just to do that.