Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
M: I’m picturing this now and laughing. With you, I promise. Not at you. Were you at least wearing something other than pajamas this time?
R: You already know I wasn’t! I’m out there in the dark, wearing slippers, shorts, and a sweatshirt that’s seen better days with bedhead bad enough to scare away any would-be attacker, holding a leash and pepper spray on my lanyard with all my jangling keys. You think maybe that’s why my neighbor was so freaked?
M: Perhaps.
R: Shoot, you’re right. Maybe I’ll leave an apology muffin at their door later. Is blueberry or chocolate chip more of an ‘I promise not to wake you up before dawn again’ flavor?
M: Hmm, good question. I think chocolate chip. Blueberry has more of a ‘get well soon’ vibe. All those fruit vitamins.
R: You’re right. Adding that to my to-do list for the day. How about you?
M: Off to work, and now I’m wanting a muffin for breakfast. I’ll probably go with cranberry-orange. A little tart, a little sweet. Like you.
R:
I can’t message her again until nearly ten o’clock, but that’s okay. Rachel and I do this often, with our longer gaps almost serving as changes of subject.
M: That muffin was delicious. Mid-morning coffee fix next. How do you take yours? I’ll make mine a Rachel.
R: Aww. I like mine light and sweet, like melted ice cream. Four sugars and cream.
M: Uh, maybe I’ll stick with plain black, bitter and hot.
R: Fair enough, more sugar and cream for me!
M: How’s the morning work coming along?
R: Slow . . . need to come up with a good quote for perseverance. Got any suggestions? Nothing I’m finding is hitting the right note.
M: Atticus- ‘She was powerful not because she wasn’t scared but because she went on so strongly despite the fear.’
R: Whoa. That’s . . . wow. It’s perfect. And here I was expecting you to pull something by Vince Lombardi or something out of your brain. No offense.
M: None taken. Not to kill the spark, but I didn’t have that quote sitting on the front of my brain. I Googled it.
R: I appreciate the honesty! I’ve been Googling quotes all morning, reading and rejecting, and you just . . . boom, pull the perfect thing outta nowhere. Thanks!
M: What’s it for?
Those three dots appear and disappear twice before her next message comes across, and I know she is struggling to answer. We’re still being careful, divulging deep, inside information about some things while staying superficial on others. We still haven’t talked about what we look like, or our jobs, or anything that would really identify us. I can understand her caution and even appreciate it since I’m hesitant to share my own identity. I’m dreading answering questions about my association with BlindDate since my initial motivation—researching the experience—seems a bit underhanded now that I’ve ‘met’ Rachel.
R: A motivational thing for work. Which I should probably get back to. Talk soon?
M: Absolutely. And for the record . . .
M: Football is like life—it requires perseverance, self-denial, hard work, sacrifice, dedication, and respect for authority.
R: What’s that?
M: A perseverance quote from Vince Lombardi. Personally, I think the other one sounds more like what you’re looking for, but I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to meet your expectations.
R: You’re kinda amazing, you know that?
M: I know. And also, my Google skills are stellar. Top-notch.
R: Goofball.
M: You’re pretty amazing too.
I shift back to my afternoon of work, but the truth is my eyes keep drifting to my phone, looking for that green dot to show up next to Rachel’s name. How is it that in just three days I’ve come to look for that little dot so damn much?
By evening, we’re messaging nonstop. Chattering about our days in broad terms, talking about favorite television shows while we watch some God-awful semi-reality thing she enjoys, and later . . .
R: It’s getting late, but I don’t want to stop talking.
M: Are you in bed?
R: Yes?
I wouldn’t mind taking things up a notch in intensity, but that question mark tells me everything I need to know about where Rachel’s head is on that subject. It’s fast, and we’re still getting to know each other. So instead of going to a hotter, sexier place, I pivot.
M: Want me to tell you a bedtime story?
R: Oh, my God! Yes!
There are six smiley face emojis after that, so I know she’s excited, probably even giddy, about the idea. I smile, trying to think of a good one.
M: Okay, get curled up in bed and dim the light on the phone. If you stop responding, I’ll trust that you’ve gone to sleep, okay?
It’s a moment before she responds.
R: Okay! Teeth brushed, bathroom stop for me and Raffy, back in bed, snug as a bug in a rug with Raffy curled up at my feet. All ready!