CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I WAS BRAINSTORMING with Dair, at his house. We hadn’t done this in a while, not since I’d been in mourning about being dumped.
Well, we weren’t so much brainstorming as I was venting at him about Ro and her new man.
He was gratifyingly sympathetic about it.
Up until he said, “That’s one of the toughest things about love. Your heart is in another person, and you really have no control over what they might do.”
“Love?” I stared. “Oh please. She’s my best friend, if that’s what you mean. I suppose I feel that kind of love. I want her, and I value her, I do. She does make me feel things I’ve never felt before. But romantic love, as in the falling kind? What a bunch of nonsense. That’s just a concept invented for marketing purposes. Stop looking at me like that. Just because you’ve lost your head over a woman doesn’t mean it could happen to someone like me. Please. I’m too pragmatic to give into such a notion. Stop smiling like that, as if you know something I don’t. You might be older than me, but I’m far more experienced with women. Oh shut up.”
“I didn’t say a thing,” Dair retorted, still with that blasted smile on his face.
I glared at him and we dropped it.
It was only as I was driving home that it hit me.
Holy shit.
I’d thought this way for so long, that unthinking it had never even occurred to me.
Iris was right, goddamn her. I’d needed to be reprogrammed.
Of course. It was so obvious, even to oblivious, self-loathing me.
Just because I’d declared something wasn’t real didn’t make it so.
I loved Ro. Of course I did.
I loved her so much.
Fuck.
I was in love with her.
As soon as I realized it was real I also recognized that it fucking sucked.
No one ever mentions how much it hurts to be in love. How all the numb parts of you are brought to life in an agony of feeling with every pump of your newly made heart. How every careless thing you’ve ever said suddenly has too much weight, and everything in your past has the sudden potential to end you.
I was in love, I just kept thinking, my mind reeling with the ramifications.
Now what the hell was I supposed to do?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
I CHANGED. MY priorities. My credo. My cynical heart.
My phone number.
It was necessary.
And I had a plan. A ruthless one. I might be dipping my toes into being romantic, but that didn’t mean I was going to be nice or gentle about it.
I planned to be an absolute nightmare, in fact, until I got my way.
Step one: Church.
I was wearing a perfectly tailored gray Armani suit as I waited by the front door. I’d already put Machiavelli away in her kennel.
I was ready early just to be sure she didn’t leave without me.
When she saw me, she stopped in her tracks.
The way she studied me was gratifying, the way she couldn’t completely hide her reaction was the best thing I’d felt since she’d ended us.
“You look nice,” she said evenly. “What are you all dressed up for?”
I opened the front door for her, waving her out.
I was in the passenger seat of her car before she caught on.
She started shaking her head. “No. You don’t believe in church. You don’t believe in anything.”
“That’s an exaggeration. And I’d like to go. I’m curious, and I promise to behave.”
Finally she just started driving if only because I wouldn’t get out of her car.
Church was fine. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but everyone seemed sort of normal. In fact, everyone was very nice and welcoming.
Except for Ro. She was furious a few short minutes in.
We were in the lobby mingling before the service, Ro introducing me to her friends, because what else could she do?
“God bless,” I tried on a few of them. It seemed to float so I kept doing it.
She literally pulled me outside to chew me out. “They may not know you’re making fun of them,” she said, sounding livid, “but I do. And I don’t appreciate it.”
I raised my hands, and told her the truth, “I’m actually not. I’m trying to fit in. I heard a few of them say it, and I thought it was what I was supposed to say. I’ve never been inside of a church before, you know.” I paused. “You’ve met my father. How religious do you imagine my upbringing has been? But I’ve gotten off track. The point is, I’m being sincere, not snarky. You’re my friend and I’m trying to embrace the things that you find important. Isn’t that what friends do?”
She wasn’t charmed by my very charming speech. “That is not friendship stuff,” she said quietly. “That is boyfriend stuff and wholly inappropriate for us.”
“Why?” I asked her.
“Don’t start with your flair for the ridiculous again. I’m not a prize just because I left first.”
“No. You’re a prize because you’re perfect.”
“Knock it the hell off.”
I did. Sort of. “So I’m not welcome here, because I’m a skeptic? Is that how your church works?”
She sighed and I knew I’d won a small victory.
“Of course not,” she said with resignation. “It’s about community. You don’t have to believe. You just have to try. Try to listen, try to get something out of it, whatever it is you may be looking for, hopefully something that makes you a better person. That’s what church is to me. But if you’re going to be here, please just be respectful.
“I am. Truly. I like anything that helped make you who you are. I certainly respect that.”
We went back inside right as they were seating everyone in the room where the service would take place, the lobby swiftly clearing out.
We walked to the doorway, and as we looked for seats, Aaron saw us and waved.
He’d saved a seat for Ro, but only one. I shamelessly maneuvered my way into taking his seat, the sucker. Now that I was done wallowing in my broken heart, was in fact back in fighting shape, and had a plan, he was toast.
I had my arm around the back of Ro’s seat for the entire service, and she didn’t make a fuss about it, probably loath to make a scene. I decided then that I liked church, and that I would continue to go.
I didn’t get much out of the sermon, no profound revelations.
I didn’t have a great frame of reference for any of it, but I did what Ro said, tried to listen, and I figured if I kept going it might begin to make more sense. And if not, it was worth it to go just to escort her.
Worst case scenario, I’d spend an hour every week being her arm candy. It sure as hell beat staying at home without her.
After the service, I tried to charm as many people she spoke to as I could. Ro seemed to be friends with everyone, particularly every lady over seventy, and I caught on quick.
I invited several sweet old ladies over for dinner, flirting with and flattering them shamelessly. Not a one of them said no.
If the way to Ro’s heart was through adorable senior citizens, I’d adopt a football team’s worth of them. More.
Ro was sending me exasperated looks the whole drive home.