I think about telling her that her date couldn’t have been worse than mine. But I guess mine ended better.
“What happened?” I ask carefully, noting that Loretta’s gotten Arielle and Becky’s attention now too.
“A new client brought his Great Dane in for a groom. I was sitting at the front desk to greet him, and we got to talking and then flirting. When he came back to pick up Harold—that’s the Great Dane—he asked me out and I said yes. Mama didn’t raise no fool, so I met him at the restaurant.” Her lips press into a thin line and her eyes roll. “Hmph, I could tell something was wrong as soon as I walked in.”
“He’s married?” Arielle guesses.
Loretta shakes her head. “No, he met me in my work clothes. Scrubs, tennis shoes, hair pulled back, covered in fur. But it was a date, so you know I did it up right. Hair and makeup on point, hot dress, and heels.”
I’ve seen Loretta done up. She’s stunning and makes an impact. Everyone notices when she struts into a room.
“He realized he was out of his league?” Becky asks hopefully.
“Man stood up to greet me blinking like he’d developed a tic, and then he kissed me on the cheek. I sit down thinking I got this fine thing on my hook. So he starts talking about basketball, and you know I was all over that. Wanna talk teams, play history, stats? Loretta’s gotchu,” she says with a pat of her own chest. “This fool says some smack about the women’s NCAA not being as good as the men’s, and I was not having that. Nope, told him exactly what I thought about that. He starts talking about his ball days, like college was a minute ago when it definitely was not, and giving me his stats. Like I give a single shit. Turned out he was a forward too, and my stats were better than his.” Loretta’s glee at that factoid fills her eyes with satisfaction.
“Love it,” Arielle says, missing her shot and then not even pretending to play the game anymore in favor of listening to Loretta.
“Final nail in the coffin? Boy tried suggesting that heels and makeup made me look like a drag queen.” Arielle is instantly in protective mode, ready to go to war to defend our friend and sputtering in anger, but Loretta smiles evilly and holds up a staying finger. “I handled it. I told him that if he didn’t want someone on or above his level—because let’s be clear, in my heels, I was taller than him and big boy could not handle that—that was his prerogative. But I don’t make myself small for anyone.”
“That’s right,” Becky agrees with her. Surprisingly, she adds, “Besides, height doesn’t matter when you’re horizontal.”
We all gape open-mouthed at her. Did sweet Becky just make a sex joke? She giggles, hiding her blush behind her hands.
“Ooh, girl. You got that right,” Loretta laughs, holding up a hand for a high-five. Becky slaps her palm to Loretta’s and then turns and sinks her last shot.
“Nothing to it,” Becky says. About her joke or the winning shot? Could be either or both, but her bold confidence is fresh. It’s cool to see how she’s growing before our very eyes from the previous shy, quiet girl into a strong woman who knows herself and isn’t afraid to share that knowledge.
Loretta and I play next, and she sweeps the game quickly. I consider it a win that I got a few successful shots that actually swished through the basket because I can’t hit the broadside of a barn, but Loretta’s score is more than triple what mine is because she’s got deadeye aim.
Becky and Loretta play the final knockout game, and now that things are serious, Loretta goes quiet as she concentrates. It’s a matter of pride at this point, and she won’t risk losing.
In the end, though, Becky has no chance. Loretta goes into Steph Curry mode, draining shot after shot.
“Great game,” Loretta tells Becky. Loretta’s still undefeated but is always a gracious winner.
Becky smiles and suggests, “Food?”
We all cheer, marching our way back to the table to meet the guys as we hold up Loretta’s arm in victory.
“Holding on to the title?” Eli asks Loretta, and she nods. We all sit down around the table, Simon pulling Becky’s chair out for her. Again, I think how cute they are and how much I’d like to have someone in my corner like that. It seems Loretta feels the same. I glance from Eli to Arielle, trying to judge what’s going on between them these days too, but there don’t seem to be any lovey-dovey vibes today.
We order a round of drinks, and when the waitress delivers them, Simon stops us from sipping. “Wait, I’d like to propose a toast.” We hold our glasses up high and wait for him to continue. “Here’s to years of friendship, of Mall Rats becoming family, and of families growing.”
We clink glasses and take sips, but Simon has paused pointedly, a large grin stretching his face and telling us to look through the words for something important. Becky’s smiling wide too, and finally, it clicks. “Are you pregnant?” I whisper, afraid to be wrong, but Becky nods excitedly.
“Just a little,” Becky says, and we all cheer. I hug her tightly, glad that she’s sitting next to me, and I get to show her some love at the awesome news.
Eli scoffs, amused. “There ain’t no such thing as a little pregnant. Either you are or you aren’t.” He holds his right hand out wide and then his left, way far apart.
“Then I am,” she concedes. “And there’s more. Simon, tell them the rest.”
At her urging, Simon once again draws our attention. “I also got a promotion to regional manager. I start next month.”
“What?”
“That’s awesome!”
“Way to go, man!”
We all celebrate their good fortunes, truly happy for them. “Thanks, everyone,” Becky says, smiling at Simon, who smiles back at her.
I want that.
I can see that now. I’ve been putting off dating and relationships for years, focusing on my work, and that’s been great, getting me to where I am. But it’s okay to reprioritize and make a little time for dating or more now that I’ve got a steady lifestyle. Even with Arielle pushing me, I wouldn’t have even considered joining the BlindDate app if I weren’t open to the idea.
Noah asked me to think about it, about him. To really give him and us a chance. And seeing Simon and Becky together is making me think long and hard about what I’m willing to risk and what I’m willing to walk away from.
Earlier today, Mabel talked about picking up her husband’s dirty socks for fifty years and how it made her happy and broke her heart when she couldn’t any longer.
Could I be happy picking up Noah’s dirty socks? Is he that kind of guy? Is this that kind of relationship?
I think it could be. We’ll have to figure out the River and Arielle complications eventually, but I do think it’s worth trying.
I don’t overthink it, don’t analyze it to death. That’s not who or what I am. I check my gut once more, focusing on anything that gives me pause, but I only find fear of getting hurt, and I won’t let that stop me. I never have before and won’t start now. Fear is what makes great people into so-so people.
So, I pull my phone out while everyone else is talking about Simon’s new role and Becky’s pregnancy. I open up BlindDate and click into my messages.