The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures in Modern Dating(69)

Ben: I don't believe that.

Magnolia: lol which part?

Ben: I don't believe that you ruined anything.

Magnolia: Believe it. I've ruined more things than I've preserved. Ruined myself once or twice or a dozen times.

Ben: I don't believe that.

Magnolia: Well…it's true.

Ben: What happened?

Magnolia: Which time? There's the time I dated a guy for YEARS even though he stole absolutely everything from me.

Magnolia: Including my dog.

Ben: First of all, he ruined that situation.

Magnolia: And I let it happen. I saw it, I knew it, and I just let it happen.

Ben: I'm gonna call bullshit on that.

Magnolia: Your second point?

Ben: Oh yeah. I'm gonna need his full name. An address if you have it. I have a rubber hose and I'm in the mood to teach some manners.

Magnolia: Don't bother. Not worth your time.

Ben: What else? What else have you ruined? Because I don't think you have it in you, pretty girl.

Magnolia: Ha. How about flunking out of college two times? Mostly because I just didn't show up or do shit.

Ben: You know what they say. Third time is the charm.

Magnolia: Uh, not really. I just got tired of my own bullshit and didn't like working the drive-thru line at Starbucks and found something I actually wanted to learn.

Ben: I'm not sure I could get tired of my own bullshit. I kinda like it.

Magnolia: Yeah. I know.

Ben: What else? Give me your worst.

Magnolia: There was a guy who helped me when I was first starting out in landscape architecture. I misunderstood a few interactions and signals. Or, I took those interactions and signals and I invented something that wasn't there.

Magnolia: Then I truly strangled the shit out of that relationship with both hands. Mentorship, gone. Professional relationships, gone. Business engagements, gone.

Ben: I will also need his name and address.

Magnolia: I would've given you both a few years ago but the best recovery from shitshows like that one is moving on and doing well.

Ben: All right. Listen. You're pretty and nice and I like the hell out of you and you have worked more than your share of shitshows but you haven't spent your grandmother's last days on earth fucking around with a house that needed months of work.

Magnolia: You're right. I haven't experienced that.

Ben: You're not carrying that kind of regret around.

Magnolia: No. Again, you're right. I'm not carrying that specific regret.

Ben: Not trying to be a dick.

Magnolia: I don't think you're being a dick. I think you're hurting. A lot.

Magnolia: And I wish there was something I could say to make it better but I'm not sure I can do that for you.

Ben: It's okay. It's not your job to make it better.





*



Magnolia: Any interest in an espresso martini lunch?

Magnolia: Because I could use an espresso martini today.

Andy: Your Wednesday is going that well, huh?

Magnolia: My Wednesday started at 12:45 a.m. when I got up to get a cookie and found a bunch of texts from Rob.

Andy: Is he losing his shit?

Magnolia: Actually, no. He was perfectly charming. But we talked about plants and air conditioning for 20 minutes. Then we made dinner plans for tonight.

Andy: Okay…

Magnolia: But I woke up 4 hours later to a fuckton of texts from Ben and he was losing his shit.

Magnolia: I made an offhand comment to him earlier in the day about how we don't really talk about things. I said something about not knowing anything about his work. Like, I know he's a firefighter and I understand the basics of that but…there's gotta be more, right? Or anything? Or doesn't he want to tell me about his daily life?

Magnolia: He stewed on that for approximately 12 hours and then opened up about losing his grandmother and his regrets and how he's just super fucked up right now.

Andy: Which we knew…

Magnolia: We did.

Andy: Regardless, you had a tough night.

Magnolia: Yeah. A lot of feels.

Andy: So many feels.

Magnolia: Espresso martini lunch?

Andy: Sorry I thought the answer was obvious.

Andy: Yes. We need to sort you out before dinner.





Chapter Thirty





My dates were too much of a good thing.

It seemed unlikely. It seemed impossible. How could one person find herself with both cups running over after years with no running, no cups? But here I was, crouched behind a boxwood bush, creeping on Ben and Rob while they argued about sports.

"This is what I've become," I murmured to myself, gripping my trowel tighter. "I'm the crazy lady hiding in bushes."

This hadn't been my intention. I didn't imagine I'd spend Matt and Lauren's move-in day ducked down in the shrubbery but when I pulled up this morning, the boxwoods and the periwinkle beneath them caught my attention. It was nothing major but I couldn't think about unpacking the house until the landscape looked right.

And then Rob and Ben walked up the quiet suburban street together, bullshitting and ball-busting the way men do. I scrambled behind the bush, no longer concerned with the half-exposed root ball, and eavesdropped on their conversation.