A Lover's Lament(52)

“What are my choices?” I ask, mimicking her position on the couch.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Nah, I watched a movie this morning.” I worked the past three nights, which means I have the next couple of days off. This morning was spent watching The Breakfast Club, and when I went to start it over, I decided once was enough. So I invited myself to Maggie’s where I’ve spent the better part of the afternoon.

“We could get dolled up and go have a few drinks.”

I look down at my yoga pants, t-shirt and tube socks. The thought of replacing them with skintight jeans and heels makes me want to cringe. “Pass. Next option.”

Maggie looks around, making a clicking noise with her tongue. “I got it!” Jumping from the couch, she darts down the hall, and a couple seconds later she runs back with her laptop in tow. “Power that baby up,” she says, handing me her computer before she walks into the kitchen.

By the time I turn the computer on, Maggie comes strolling back in with a pint of vanilla ice cream, a bottle of chocolate syrup, and two spoons.

“Sorry.” She shrugs, sitting on the couch next to me. “I only have vanilla, but we can totally coat it in chocolate.”

“Don’t ever apologize for feeding me ice cream or chocolate.” Handing the laptop to Maggie, I grab the ice cream and peel open the lid, then pour the syrup all over it. Grabbing the spoons, I hand one to her, snuggle against the couch and we both dive in.

“What’s the laptop for?” I ask, shoveling the first bite of creamy deliciousness in my mouth.

A slow grin spreads across Maggie’s face. “We are going to find you a lobster.”

“Oh no. Nonono.” Shaking my head, I make a move for the computer, but she pulls it out of my reach.

“Oh yes. Yesyesyes.”

“Maggie—”

“Oh, come on. Loosen up. This could be fun,” she quips.

“I don’t even know what this is.” I scowl, dipping my spoon in the container for another bite.

“Marry me dot com.”

“Absolutely not,” I mumble around the ice cream in my mouth. “I will not do a dating site.”

“Why not?” she whines, giving me her best puppy-dog eyes.

“Well, first, because I just don’t want to. Second, it’s too soon. Wyatt and I just broke up.”

“Semantics,” she says, waving her hand through the air dismissively. “You were over Wyatt long before you cut the cord. Moving on will be a good thing. How about Mark from the surgical floor?”

“He has a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Maggie says with a pout. “How about—?”

“How about you drop it?” I say, licking my spoon.

Maggie gives me the stare-down, and I return it with a cheeky grin. “Fine. Your loss,” she says, shrugging.

I watch quietly, eating away at the ice cream as Maggie pulls up the Internet and logs into her MySpace account. My eyes bounce around the screen, watching her click through several people’s profiles. Eventually, I get bored and grab the remote. I don’t know how she has time for all that. I certainly don’t. Well, I didn’t until now…

Turning on the TV, I find the news and drop the remote, listening as the anchor talks about yet another shooting in the city. “What is this world coming to?” I whisper.

“Katie?”

“What?”

“You need to update your MySpace page.”

“I know,” I answer, my eyes glued to the TV.

“No, seriously.” I glance over at Maggie and she points to her computer. “Your profile picture is from like two years ago, and there are a massive amount of pictures of you and Wyatt. Oh, look! According to your profile, the two of you are engaged.”

“Who cares?” I shrug, turning my attention back to the TV. “It’s not like I’m ever on MySpace anyway, and I don’t interact with anyone on there. I should probably just delete it.”

“You will not delete it,” she protests, poking me in the side. Laughing, I bat her hand away. “Awww, there’s Bailey … when she was sweet,” she mumbles. “Speaking of Bailey, how did things go the other night?”

“Not good. She’s mad at me. Again.”

“She has nothing to be mad about. It isn’t her decision. And she’s your sister; she should want you to be happy.”

Stabbing my spoon in the ice cream, I set the tub on the coffee table. “Can we talk about something else?” I ask. When I look up at Maggie, I see her eyes soften and she offers me a sympathetic smile.

“Sure,” she says, looking down at her computer.

A loud boom startles me, and I turn my attention back to the flat screen that is nestled against the wall. Flashes of bright orange light illuminate the screen. The horrific scene fades and a petite blonde comes into view, her high-pitched voice resonating through the speakers.

Four people were injured and two killed early Saturday morning when a roadside bomb struck a U.S. military convoy.

Devin. Oh my gosh, Devin!

My heart nearly explodes from my chest as I struggle to comprehend what she’s saying.

The attack occurred thirty kilometers south of Baghdad. This comes just two days after a string of bombings across Iraq have killed thirty-nine people, three of whom were American soldiers.