“A little.”
Wyatt scoffs. “She gets mad about the dumbest things.”
“She did a good job, and it was a lot of work.”
“Yeah, but what color was it?”
“Blue.”
He wrinkles his nose. “That’s not so bad, I guess.”
“I’d have kept it on, but I had a meeting that afternoon with some people I’d never met before. It would have been distracting.”
Wyatt does a good job impersonating me conducting a meeting while showing off my fingernails. It feels good to laugh.
I can only remember one time as a kid when I made my dad laugh. I reach back and tug on Wyatt’s pant leg. “What do you want to do with the rest of our night?”
He yawns. “I’m kind of tired. Can I put my sleeping bag on the couch and fall asleep to a movie with you?”
“Yeah. We can definitely do that.”
Our bros’ night involves a lively debate over which movie, a popcorn mess I clean up after he falls asleep, and then me sitting in the dark debating whether to text Rosalie for no particular reason. Well, not for no reason. I’d come up with something.
I shouldn’t. I definitely shouldn’t. This is a slippery slope and I’m just skipping down it. I’m staring at my last text with the address to the ice cream shop when a message from her pops up.
Rosalie: I wrote you a letter, but I don’t know how to get it to you.
Liam: Email?
Rosalie: But I wrote it out.
Liam: You could call and read it to me.
Rosalie: Absolutely not. The whole point of this was talkingabout the details of my date in a normal way, and I can’t be normal if we’re actually having a conversation about it.
Liam: Then I know what we need to do.
I walk over to the desk where I left the letter I wrote her Friday night, the one where I told her Oreos were mid. I pull it out from under the calendar, snap a picture of it with my phone, and send it.
A few seconds later, she sends me a picture of the one she just wrote.
Liam: So, we’re not calling each other?
Rosalie: No. I think I might actually be able to sleep now. I feel like Mr. Darcy after he clears the air with his letter.
Liam: I don’t know what that means. See you Monday.
Suddenly ready for bed myself, I go through my nighttime routine before climbing under the covers with my phone and Googling “Mr. Darcy’s Letter.” The results give me more context than I need, plus a window into the rabid fanbase of Pride and Prejudice. But I can’t get lost in YouTube videos of Elizabeth Bennet walking forest paths looking distraught.
What exactly did Rosalie need to clear the air about? I pull up the picture of the letter she sent me and zoom in to read.
Dear Liam,
Did you know that Kambryn sets me up on blind dates? Trey was a blind date. Actually, I met Brennan as a blind date, too. Not sure if you knew that. Anyway, tonight’s wasn’t the best blind date I’ve ever been on, but it wasn’t the worst either. And if my options are to go out with Trey again or get set up with another stranger, you can see why Trey doesn’t seem that bad.
I didn’t want to admit that. I sort of hoped if you thought I was dating Trey,we could go back to the professional, detached relationship we used to have where we’re vaguely aware that the other person is going out on the weekends, but we don’t talk about it. But let’s face it. We’re past that. I declared us friends, and then you declared us true friends, so now we’re too in each other’s business for lies. I won’t be dating Trey in any serious way, and I don’t want to lie to you about it. Also, I don’t know if I can do more than two dates with him. Trey is a lot. I’m ignoring his texts while I write this.
Also, I am so FULL. Let’s definitely hit that ice cream place again so Callie can experience it, but not right after a carb load.