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22- Isabel
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FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 23- Lincoln
“Okay.” I tried for a smile as I stood. But my cheeks ached from all the fake smiling I’d been doing for the last hour. The red-headed woman, who I was pretty sure was at least twenty years older than I was, looked confused. “Okay?” She stood up from the table across from me, a paintbrush still in her raised hand. “Right,” I said. “Goodbye then.” “Um,” she said, glancing around like maybe she thought she was being pranked. “Goodbye?” Her name was Kami, and a lot of the things Kami said sounded like questions, but technically should have been statements. It was one of the things that made me certain that this setup—like every single one of those my mother had orchestrated so far—was not going to result in any kind of happily ever after. “Yep,” I confirmed, since she insisted on continuing to look confused. “Okay,” she said. I took that as agreement and picked up my latest hastily painted ceramic frog and delivered it to the tall dark-haired girl behind the counter, who offered m
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 24-Hannah
The house wasn’t much to look at, but I had to admit the landscape was nice. Okay, fine. More than nice. I’d never been on a nicer run than through the vineyards of Solano Creek. And if I said “nice” one more time in my head I was going to scream.Aged cheddar was nice. That moment when I took off my Paint it, Pal apron at the end of an excruciating shift with screaming toddlers was nice. My life, though? Shouldn’t it be described with a better adjective? How about exhilarating? Perfect. Beyond compare. I wanted more than just a nine-to-five until I shriveled up and died. If anything, life so far had taught me it was a fickle beast. I‘d better get to living now if I wanted to squeeze something more than “nice” out of this existence.Which was why I was here, in the middle of a town I knew nothing about, in a tiny house that held nothing familiar yet had my name on the deed. Thank you, Aunt Betty, for the gift in your will. A pang of guilt hit me, but I pushed it aside. I had too many
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 24.1
Yes, I was talking to hardware now. I’d been living alone so long, I had to make friends where I could. At least I hadn’t stooped to the level of the guy who had come in to paint last week with a mannequin sitting across from him. That had given me the creeps, but the guy was perfectly nice. Maybe I should rethink my stance on mannequin companionship.Things were looking up when my old cherry red Honda Prelude started on the first try. She only let out one backfire as I rumbled down the long driveway, giving me a sense that maybe today was my day. I’d gotten in a great run. I’d remembered to pick up some protein bars at the store the other day and felt decently fed going into work. Things were going to change today. I could feel it in the way people waved hello as I entered the downtown area. It was in the late-summer sun that warmed me through the window of my tiny car. And it was definitely a good sign when a parking space opened up right in front of Paint It, Pal as I swung down Ma
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 25- Lincoln
Jessica was the kind of woman that had always scared me. A lot. She was like a caricature of a woman, something put together by a maniacal cartoon artist who had a vague impression that women should have long nails, big hair, very red lips, and wear dresses. But as much as I liked to see a pretty woman who had all of those things, there was something about Jessica that took it too far. Way too far. The nails were too long. The hair was too done. The lipstick was… well, it was terrifying. Too red, I guessed. But I’d survived every other setup my mother had arranged. Statistically, I would probably survive this one too. It wouldn’t be easy though. I sat down at the table with my frog and my blue paint, Jessica kind of hanging off one side of me as I did so. Luckily, she wasn’t a big woman, because I was supporting half her weight as she hung from my side the way a remora attaches itself to a shark. But this didn’t feel symbiotic. “So strong,” she purred as she settled next to me and
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 25.1
“You got it. Sure thing. Enjoy that paint.” She practically shouted these words, and her voice had gone oddly stiff. She might be good at selling ceramic frogs and paint, but she was a terrible actress. “Thanks,” I said, and before I turned back to Jessica, I saw the girl pull a phone out of her back pocket and head to the back. Salvation was near. “I missed you,” Jessica warbled, and as I put down the paint, she captured both my hands in hers, practically pulling me across the table. My life flashed before my eyes. “Lincoln, honey,” she went on. “I have an instinct for things, and I really feel like you and me? Like this is something real. Something special.” My phone dinged in my pocket and I extricated one hand from Jessica’s, giving her an apologetic smile as I pulled it out and saw a message from a number I didn’t know. Unknown number: HUGE emergency. You need to abandon your frog and get going. Immediately. (before she proposes. Or eats you.) I had to stifle a chuckle at th
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 26- Hannah
I shouldn’t have asked him. I should have sent him a quick “you’re welcome” and moved on with my life. But I made the mistake of glancing up and viewing the green kitchen appliances from the couch covered in thick plastic where I currently sat, and I got desperate to check out of my life. To just spend a few minutes talking to someone else who might have things worse than I did. I mean, his life must be horrific to keep putting up with those ridiculous dates in the search of “the one.”Tall, Dark & Desperate: To understand the mysteries of this life, one must first understand Pam Cunningham.I searched my brain for every notable female I’d learned about in my women’s history class in college, but came up empty. Me: I could Google her…or you could just tell me…Tall, Dark & Desperate: She’s my mother. And she’s persistent in ways not understandable unless you are her progeny. She has four sons and somehow has it in her head that we all need her help finding our match.I groaned and se
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 27- Lincoln
I had a girlfriend. Okay, a fake girlfriend. It was still a pretty novel concept for a guy who’d been on his own for a very long time.By choice, of course.I went to bed that night struggling with the concept. In one corner of my mind was Hannah’s encouraging smile, the warm one she’d given me as I’d finally escaped Paint It, Pal this afternoon. That smile lit up something dark and deep inside me, but I really didn’t want to think too much about that. It made me uncomfortable, and stirred up some dusty memories. In the other corner of my sleepy mind was my mother, her shining eager eyes as she pursued her relentless quest for matching up each of her boys. I could only imagine how thrilled she would be when I introduced her to Hannah, though my memory of Hannah’s poor acting skills had me a little worried. And I didn’t want to hurt Mom by having her find out I’d tried to pull one over on her. So it would take some finesse—not something I excelled at. I woke up to the persistent vib
FALLING IN LOVE WHEN YOU'RE TEXTING 28- Hannah
I’d just gotten out of my paint splattered jeans and T-shirt when I heard tires crunching over the gravel driveway out front. My brain knew this wasn’t a real date, but tell that to my feet practically dancing right off the old hardwood floor that needed to be sanded and refinished. I threw on a cropped sweater and ripped jeans, heading to get the door on bare feet. There was no doorbell, and I wasn’t confident in the front door withstanding a knock from a grown man, so I figured I’d better meet him as he got out of his car.“Hey, boyfriend!” I called out as I stepped onto the front porch.Lincoln looked up as he unfolded his frame from one of those quiet electric cars that snuck up on me when I went on my runs. He smiled at me, a lock of his thick, unruly hair sliding onto his forehead. With the vineyard behind him and the golden hour sunlight filtering through the trees in the front yard, he looked like he was posing for a magazine.“We might need to work on our nicknames,” was all
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