Page 52 of Big Stick Energy
Eric:Thank god. My reputation would suffer if we gave them a yellow one.
Darcy:We’re also getting them a gift card for plants. You know, like adding the sport package.
Eric:You’re ridiculous. I love it. Send me the damage, and I’ll Venmo you.
Darcy:Will do. Also my EKG is normal.
Eric:FUCK YES!!! Why didn’t you lead with that?
He follows up the text with a champagne emoji and that…
thing with the streamers coming out of it.
Darcy:Because shopping. And why do the emojis for celebration just suck? What is that thing. A bullhorn?
My phone rings, and it’s Eric. When I answer, he says, “I thought it was a party hat. Or a party cornucopia.” He’s panting for some reason.
“That’s not a thing.”
“Just realizing that now. But maybe it should be.”
“Why are you out of breath?”
“Treadmill. Ten miles. I’ve got to ask a favor, but you don’t have to say yes.”
I listen to his heavy breathing for a moment, and it’s honestly distracting. “Okay, hit me.”
“Well…” I hear the glug of his water bottle. “My parents convinced me to stay with them during the wedding. But I was careful to say that my date was staying at the hotel for the wedding. You know, because it’s your family, and you want to be near them.”
I snort. “Plausible unless you know us.”
“Right, and so clever of me. Or so I thought. My mother just asked me if we wouldn’t like to come up the evening before, and you could stay one night in Marblehead.”
“At your house? Where you grew up?”
“That’s right.” Another gulp of water. “But before you answer, I should warn you that my childhood bedroom has bunk beds.”
“Bunk beds?” This keeps getting better. “Please tell me there areStar Warssheets?”
“Hockey sheets. Duh. And you can have the top bunk if you want. Unless you’re scared of heights.”
“Such a gentleman.” I’m grinning now. “But seriously—you want to play it up to your grieving parents? That seems like crossing a line from fake dating into… I don’t know. White-collar crime?”
“I know it’s asking a lot.” His breathing is finally evening out. “I also told my parents our thing is sort of new.”
I giggle.
“Mom says she understands. But she still wants to host us. I think it’s her ideal distraction. I couldn’t get off the phone before she started planning her menu. Dinner and then breakfast.”
“Your mother wants to cook me breakfast.” I let that sink in. “That’s… intense.”
“It’s just eggs. Maybe pancakes. Nothing fancy.”
“With your fake girlfriend.”
“Who’s staying in the top bunk,” he reminds me. “Very proper. My mother will approve.”
I shouldn’t say yes. This is already complicated enough. But… “Are there embarrassing childhood photos? Because that might seal the deal.”
