On the Rocks(37)

“Right, just like guys have problems dealing with real live women after they spend three hours looking at Playboy. Fantasy isn’t reality. You need to keep those two things separate or life is only going to get uglier from here. Stop being afraid of everyone. Stop looking for reasons to not try to be open to new relationships. You can’t lock yourself in a tower because you’re too afraid to live in the outside world.”

“Maybe that’s what all those princesses were doing. Maybe they decided they’d rather live on the far side of a moat and let their hair grow down to their asses than go on dates.”

“I don’t think that’s what Walt had in mind.”

“I hate Walt Disney. He completely f*cked me up.”

“Abigail, do you hear yourself? You’re now blaming a man whose head is cryogenically frozen for your problems. Get out there and start dating. You might have some fun along the way. Did you ever think of that?”

“I’m trying,” I said. “I actually gave my number to a guy I met last week. I haven’t heard from him yet.”

“That’s fantastic! Does he have hair?” she said with a wink.

“Very funny.”

“Just trying to lighten this lunch up a bit.”

“The sad thing is that I was actually proud of myself for doing that, like giving out my cell number was some huge sign of progress. Do you know how pathetic that is?”

“Why’s that pathetic? That’s the first step toward meeting someone.”

“Maybe, but I’m still going to be dateless for Katie’s wedding. That’s not going to do much for my self-esteem. As if this extra weight hasn’t done enough damage.”

“Listen, it’s okay to be really pissed off by the timing of the wedding. It doesn’t make you a bad person if you’re struggling with it.”

“I’m trying not to think about it,” I said. “My mother reminding me that I’m fat doesn’t help with that.”

“You’re not fat. And I doubt your mother meant to call you fat either. She’s probably just trying to motivate you in her own way. She thinks you’ll feel better about everything if you feel fit and beautiful. Anyway, I’m here to tell you, don’t worry about it. A lot of people put on a few after they have bad breakups. I certainly did back before I met Mac.”

“I guess.”

“I’d rather you focus on fixing the you on the inside. Once you do that, I think you’ll be surprised to realize that the weight will take care of itself. Get back out there and meet some people, at least try to. You might not find a Prince Charming, but it can still be fun to kiss some frogs. You know what I’m saying?”

“I do. I know you’re right.” She always was.

“Let’s order. I’m starving,” she said, opening her menu.

“Me too,” I sighed, looking down at my thighs. “I guess I’ll just get a salad.”

I stared at the bread basket, resisting the urge to devour a roll. I wasn’t about to do a juice cleanse, but it wouldn’t kill me to lay off the carbs for the next few weeks either. Aunt Patrice read my mind and, as usual, said exactly what I needed to hear.

“Life’s too short, Abby. Eat the goddamn bread.”





Chapter 10



I Put Her in My Phone as Crosby, Stills, and Nash




THE FOLLOWING MORNING I reported for my first day of work. I spent the entire morning unloading boxes in the storage room, and the afternoon affixing price tags to the bottom of various pitchers, platters, and boxes of wine charms. Lara stayed in the front of the store working the register and dealing with customers, leaving me alone in the back, but I didn’t mind. It felt nice to have a purpose without the pressure of having to make small talk. It was just me and my box cutter, and I couldn’t have been happier.

I realized that working two days a week was turning out to be a perfect summer gig. It was great to finally have a routine, and for some reason going to work in Lara’s little store gave a much-needed boost to my self-esteem. It was now the middle of June, and Newport was starting to feel like home. I didn’t get lost when I ran, I didn’t wake up in the morning feeling like I was in a strange bed, and I didn’t feel like I was still in the “getting to know you” phase with the guys. They were now officially my friends, and I hoped that once I was allowed out of the stockroom, Lara would become one as well.

I figured if Ryan had called me right after we met, that would have seemed too forward, and I was convinced that after the first week had passed I’d hear from him. I had been cautiously optimistic on Monday, hopeful on Tuesday, confused on Thursday. Then I started checking the personals to make sure that Ben hadn’t taken out an ad declaring me a man-eater and telling guys to stay away.

“Hey, Abby, did you ever hear from the blond guy you met at the bar last week? What was his name? Ryan?” Grace asked as she smoothed moisturizer over her legs on Friday night while sitting on our couch. Bobby was rummaging through our cabinets, trying to block out the girl talk and find himself something to eat, while I stood at the stove and tried to make dinner for us, which wasn’t saying a lot. The only thing I knew how to make was pasta. I figured if I threw some basil and tomatoes into the mix, it would at least be edible. I hadn’t been to Bobby’s house yet––there was no reason to since he spent most of his time at ours––but I was pretty sure his cabinets contained nothing but packs of cigarettes and mouse traps.