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Authors: Maria Murnane
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pet names without sounding patronizing or lecherous. I could practically feel his pretty green eyes sparkling through the phone.
“My editor really liked the idea.” I leaned back in my chair, which creaked a bit. I made a mental note to put some WD-40 on it. Then I chuckled silently because I knew I never would.
“Of course he did. Everyone loves The Today Show. ”
“I just hope I don’t blurt out something ridiculous. I have a tendency to do that when I get nervous.”
“Oh pumpkin, please, you’ll do great.”
“Fingers crossed. I’ve been reading through my favorites e-mail folder this afternoon, you know, to prepare something good, something really entertaining.”
“Perfect, that’s what you need to do.”
“But I’ve got to tell you, Scotty, this is harder than I thought it would be.”
“Harder? Why?”
“Because I have so much material here that I’m finding it hard to choose what to go with.”
He laughed. “That good? Or should I say, that bad?”
“ So bad. Wanna hear some?”
“Oh yes. Lay it on me.”
“Okay.” I sat up straight and put my hand over the mouse. “I’ll read you a few short ones. You ready?”
“Ready.”
“Okay, here goes: ‘ Dear Waverly, what the hell is wrong with men? My boyfriend of three years just broke up with me over e-mail. E-MAIL. After THREE YEARS. He hopes we can be friends. I hope he contracts E-coli .’”
“Oh my,” Scotty said.
“Oh yes. Here’s another one: ‘ Dear Waverly, I just found out the guy I’ve been dating seriously for five months has an estranged wife (AKA HE IS MARRIED). He told me this while we were on vacation together in Hawaii. He also slipped in that he has two kids. Then he proposed. I proposed that he get his lying ass on a plane back to Oakland. ’”
“Ouch.”
“Yep. And check this one out: ‘ Dear Waverly, I just got a text message from my BOSS that said, “Thanks for the awesome dream last night.” Btw, my boss is male and has a wife, and my name is Brian. WTF?? ’”
“Good lord.”
“You said it.”
“You think the last guy is referring to a senator, a congressman, or an evangelical TV pastor?”
I laughed. “That’s not bad. I should have used it in my reply.”
“You weren’t kidding about the abundance of material.”
“That, my friend, is the horror of being a single person in the San Francisco Bay Area.”
“Not that you would know.”
I sat up in my chair. “Hey now, I’m single.”
“Sweetheart, you are so not single.”
“Yes, I am.”
He laughed. “No, you aren’t.”
“Yes, I am. We haven’t had the talk , Scotty. So nothing is official. Jake is not my boyfriend. We’re not exclusive. We don’t even live in the same city.”
He sighed. “Gorgeous, I’m not talking about labels or geography, I’m talking about your heart. Don’t try to tell me it isn’t one hundred percent taken.”
I opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong, but then I realized something.
He was right.
It was nearly four o’clock the next morning when I woke up and realized something else.
I sat up in bed, half asleep, but aware that something was wrong.
Oh no .
I got out of bed and groggily stumbled into my office, moving aside my notebook, calculator, and phone to look for my calendar. I was the one of the last people alive to use a paper planner, but I loved writing things down with an actual pen. It kept me organized and on top of things.
Until then, apparently.
I flipped the pages back to November, then started counting forward from the last date I’d circled in red. My fingers tapped along the days, then stopped.
I bit my lip.
I’m late.
For three days, I ignored it. I also ignored everything else. I don’t think I’d ever gone so long without talking to McKenna, although she may not have noticed given all the life changes she was dealing with. Andie was at a conference in San Diego. So I’d basically been holed up in my apartment, eating chocolate
“My editor really liked the idea.” I leaned back in my chair, which creaked a bit. I made a mental note to put some WD-40 on it. Then I chuckled silently because I knew I never would.
“Of course he did. Everyone loves The Today Show. ”
“I just hope I don’t blurt out something ridiculous. I have a tendency to do that when I get nervous.”
“Oh pumpkin, please, you’ll do great.”
“Fingers crossed. I’ve been reading through my favorites e-mail folder this afternoon, you know, to prepare something good, something really entertaining.”
“Perfect, that’s what you need to do.”
“But I’ve got to tell you, Scotty, this is harder than I thought it would be.”
“Harder? Why?”
“Because I have so much material here that I’m finding it hard to choose what to go with.”
He laughed. “That good? Or should I say, that bad?”
“ So bad. Wanna hear some?”
“Oh yes. Lay it on me.”
“Okay.” I sat up straight and put my hand over the mouse. “I’ll read you a few short ones. You ready?”
“Ready.”
“Okay, here goes: ‘ Dear Waverly, what the hell is wrong with men? My boyfriend of three years just broke up with me over e-mail. E-MAIL. After THREE YEARS. He hopes we can be friends. I hope he contracts E-coli .’”
“Oh my,” Scotty said.
“Oh yes. Here’s another one: ‘ Dear Waverly, I just found out the guy I’ve been dating seriously for five months has an estranged wife (AKA HE IS MARRIED). He told me this while we were on vacation together in Hawaii. He also slipped in that he has two kids. Then he proposed. I proposed that he get his lying ass on a plane back to Oakland. ’”
“Ouch.”
“Yep. And check this one out: ‘ Dear Waverly, I just got a text message from my BOSS that said, “Thanks for the awesome dream last night.” Btw, my boss is male and has a wife, and my name is Brian. WTF?? ’”
“Good lord.”
“You said it.”
“You think the last guy is referring to a senator, a congressman, or an evangelical TV pastor?”
I laughed. “That’s not bad. I should have used it in my reply.”
“You weren’t kidding about the abundance of material.”
“That, my friend, is the horror of being a single person in the San Francisco Bay Area.”
“Not that you would know.”
I sat up in my chair. “Hey now, I’m single.”
“Sweetheart, you are so not single.”
“Yes, I am.”
He laughed. “No, you aren’t.”
“Yes, I am. We haven’t had the talk , Scotty. So nothing is official. Jake is not my boyfriend. We’re not exclusive. We don’t even live in the same city.”
He sighed. “Gorgeous, I’m not talking about labels or geography, I’m talking about your heart. Don’t try to tell me it isn’t one hundred percent taken.”
I opened my mouth to tell him he was wrong, but then I realized something.
He was right.
It was nearly four o’clock the next morning when I woke up and realized something else.
I sat up in bed, half asleep, but aware that something was wrong.
Oh no .
I got out of bed and groggily stumbled into my office, moving aside my notebook, calculator, and phone to look for my calendar. I was the one of the last people alive to use a paper planner, but I loved writing things down with an actual pen. It kept me organized and on top of things.
Until then, apparently.
I flipped the pages back to November, then started counting forward from the last date I’d circled in red. My fingers tapped along the days, then stopped.
I bit my lip.
I’m late.
For three days, I ignored it. I also ignored everything else. I don’t think I’d ever gone so long without talking to McKenna, although she may not have noticed given all the life changes she was dealing with. Andie was at a conference in San Diego. So I’d basically been holed up in my apartment, eating chocolate
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