Read Online 51/50: The Magical Adventures of a Single Life by Kristen McGuiness - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kristen McGuiness
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takes a picture of me firing his shotgun that night, and I look so happy; I look like I have always wanted to look, in my tight, ripped jeans and my quickly slimming figure. The minute I introduce romance to my diet, I just don’t need sugar as much, and so I have been watching as the weight drops off me. Jimmy and I don’t spend the night together because we are still trying to take this quickly-paced romance slow. Instead, we meet the next morning for breakfast. Jimmy invites me to his family’s house for Thanksgiving because we’re both still alcoholics, and this is about as taking-it-slow as we get. We agree to go back up to John and Teresa’s in Oxnard afterward for the rest of the weekend.
It all feels so perfect. Me and this cowboy rising above the social fray to create a romance of family dinners and road trips and sweet breakfasts in our shared neighborhood of Silver Lake. The fact that I was supposed to go on 51 dates in 50 weeks feels like a distant memory because I am getting exactly what I want in only eight. As I get dressed to go out with Jimmy that night, I feel like a lottery winner. Jimmy and I had planned to go to the Observatory on his motorcycle, but then one of our mutual friends was having an art show and that seemed to make more sense. I walk outside, and he stands waiting for me in front of his truck. And then I am in his arms, and he is telling me how beautiful I am, and I am in awe that after all this time, I finally won. I won. I won me a cowboy.
I sit across from him at the restaurant, and the magic continues. We talk about our fathers and God and sobriety and whatever awkwardness was there is quickly fading in the candlelight.
Jimmy tells me, “My dad was such a good man. Conservative as hell. But he was honest.”
“Even when he was drunk?” I ask.
“Yeah, in a way. I mean I come from drinking men. It’s what they do.”
“Yeah, my dad isn’t so much like that.” I look around because my recent trip to visit my father is still raw. I want desperately to share all of this with Jimmy, but maybe this is where the awkwardness comes in. I am trying not to be the babbling, let-me-share-everything-with-you type of girl, but I don’t really know what else to say in its place. Still, I think Jimmy understands.
“Don’t get me wrong, Kristen. My dad was fucking miserable.” He catches my eye, and we smile because we share this thing with our fathers, and though we don’t say it, I know that we are both sober because we didn’t want to end up like them. He comes and sits next to me on the booth during coffee, and it feels so nice leaning into him, making out in the back of the restaurant, believing in romance again.
We go to the art show, and if ever there was a coming-out party for us, this is it. Everyone we know is there, and I float around on his arm, feeling not like the nerdy girl I was so determined to make myself out to be, but like the cool, country girlfriend, glowing in the bask of my man. We are walking away from the party, and Jimmy keeps kissing me, so much so that we nearly trip over ourselves. I can see our silhouettes in the light, all tall and sexy and free.
He looks down into my eyes and says, “God, you’re so refreshing.”
I should know better right here. Oliver once called me that. Others have before. Like a tall glass of lemonade, I satisfy the thirst but am put down after a few quick gulps. That is what refreshing will get you. But in the moment, it works, and I want to be refreshing. I want to be so different from anything he has dated that he actually sticks around this time. Because I sense from the looks I get at the art show, and from the way his friends shake my hand, that there is often a new girl on Jimmy’s arm and that many of them are here tonight. And I do not want to be just another stop on this cowboy’s adventure.
We stop by my apartment so I can pick up some things, and I watch as he walks
It all feels so perfect. Me and this cowboy rising above the social fray to create a romance of family dinners and road trips and sweet breakfasts in our shared neighborhood of Silver Lake. The fact that I was supposed to go on 51 dates in 50 weeks feels like a distant memory because I am getting exactly what I want in only eight. As I get dressed to go out with Jimmy that night, I feel like a lottery winner. Jimmy and I had planned to go to the Observatory on his motorcycle, but then one of our mutual friends was having an art show and that seemed to make more sense. I walk outside, and he stands waiting for me in front of his truck. And then I am in his arms, and he is telling me how beautiful I am, and I am in awe that after all this time, I finally won. I won. I won me a cowboy.
I sit across from him at the restaurant, and the magic continues. We talk about our fathers and God and sobriety and whatever awkwardness was there is quickly fading in the candlelight.
Jimmy tells me, “My dad was such a good man. Conservative as hell. But he was honest.”
“Even when he was drunk?” I ask.
“Yeah, in a way. I mean I come from drinking men. It’s what they do.”
“Yeah, my dad isn’t so much like that.” I look around because my recent trip to visit my father is still raw. I want desperately to share all of this with Jimmy, but maybe this is where the awkwardness comes in. I am trying not to be the babbling, let-me-share-everything-with-you type of girl, but I don’t really know what else to say in its place. Still, I think Jimmy understands.
“Don’t get me wrong, Kristen. My dad was fucking miserable.” He catches my eye, and we smile because we share this thing with our fathers, and though we don’t say it, I know that we are both sober because we didn’t want to end up like them. He comes and sits next to me on the booth during coffee, and it feels so nice leaning into him, making out in the back of the restaurant, believing in romance again.
We go to the art show, and if ever there was a coming-out party for us, this is it. Everyone we know is there, and I float around on his arm, feeling not like the nerdy girl I was so determined to make myself out to be, but like the cool, country girlfriend, glowing in the bask of my man. We are walking away from the party, and Jimmy keeps kissing me, so much so that we nearly trip over ourselves. I can see our silhouettes in the light, all tall and sexy and free.
He looks down into my eyes and says, “God, you’re so refreshing.”
I should know better right here. Oliver once called me that. Others have before. Like a tall glass of lemonade, I satisfy the thirst but am put down after a few quick gulps. That is what refreshing will get you. But in the moment, it works, and I want to be refreshing. I want to be so different from anything he has dated that he actually sticks around this time. Because I sense from the looks I get at the art show, and from the way his friends shake my hand, that there is often a new girl on Jimmy’s arm and that many of them are here tonight. And I do not want to be just another stop on this cowboy’s adventure.
We stop by my apartment so I can pick up some things, and I watch as he walks
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