‘You said you wanted to text Ev to ask if you guys were still meeting at the winery next week, right?” Winn asks.
“Yea…”
“So, I texted Ev and asked him if you guys were still meeting at the winery next week. See? Problem solved.”
“Oh, sweet hell. You didn’t.” I reach for my phone, glance at the screen, and see that it’s true. “Damn it, Winn.”
“You have no one but yourself to blame, Molls. I tried to warn you.”
“I should have listened,” I say miserably.
“Are you two insane? How did I do anything wrong? You wanted to ask him a question, so I asked him the question. How in the world is that a bad thing?”
“Winn, you have so much to learn about women,” Ava says, shaking her head.
“Ugh, after having this weird-ass dinner with you two, I’m not sure I want to.”
“Ignore him, Molls. I totally get it. You wanted to know that information without actually having to ask him. Now that the question is out there, you’re wondering if he’s wondering if that’s really what you’re asking.”
“Exactly,” I say.
Winn laughs.“That makes zero fucking sense, Av.”
“Language. And your sister’s right. Now it’s out there. And I can’t take it back. And I can’t text again, because I’ll just look needy. But now I look bitchy because how is that the first thing I say to him after I left his hotel room in tears.”
“Wait. This guy made you cry? Give me that phone back.” My baby brother looks all tough, coming to my defense.
“No way are you getting your questionably clean hands on my phone ever again, Winn. And the crying was just as much my fault as his, I promise.”
“So I should have typed that you’re sorry, and you want to talk about getting back together?”
“My God, no,” I screech, before he even finishes his sentence.
“That would be so much worse” Ava agrees, slurping the last of her Coke.
“But don’t you?”
“What I want isn’t really pertinent at this point. Between my issues and his needs, a relationship between us just isn’t going to work.”
“But you love him,” Ava says.
“I do.”
“Dude. That’s depressing.” Winn’s right.
“I know.”
“Let’s order dessert.”
Every now and then, my little brother has a good idea.
We’re sitting in an airport bar since our flight’s been delayed a few hours. Nate was able to switch his ticket, and we’re flying back together, under the pretense of getting work done. But my mind is not where it’s supposed to be.
“Focus, Ev, or respond to that text. Those are your only two choices.”
“But what do I say? This doesn’t even sound like Molly. It’s so short and to the point. You read it, what did you think?”
Nate closes his laptop, a clear sign he’s acknowledging the fact that we’re not accomplishing many tasks today.
