Honey on Your Mind Part 21

I nodded. "I hate personal blogs. Why people feel the need to share the minutia of their lives with the whole world is beyond me. Why on earth would I want anyone to know about my bunions? Or what type of shampoo I use? It's madness!"

"I feel the same about people who Tweet," Andie said.

I pointed at her. "Exactly. And don't even get me started on Facebook."

"You two want to get off your social-media soapbox so Waverly can tell us more about her office?" McKenna said.

I smiled. "I'm sorry. I just get a little fired up about stuff like that. Anyhow, the Honey products really seem to be taking off, and while I'm exhausted from running around at Paige's beck and call, none of it would have happened without her. She's really good at her job."

"She's crazy smart," Andie said. "I remember when we were kids, she knew all the answers on Jeopardy. She was a brainiac, even back then."

I took a sip of wine and thought about how I could change the subject. Before I could say anything, Andie spoke again.

"So is Paige seeing anyone these days?"

d.a.m.n.

Don't lie, don't lie, don't lie.

"Um, I think so," I said, burying my nose in my gla.s.s.

"Really? I'm glad to hear that," Andie said. "That girl has been through the dating ringer."

McKenna looked at her. "More than Waverly?"

I coughed. "Thanks for that. It's nice to know I'm a barometer by which to measure romantic failure."

"Hey now, she's just telling it like it is. Don't be afraid to own it," Andie said. "And yes, Paige's list of dating horror stories rivals Waverly's. At every family reunion she seems to have a new one that tops the one before it."

"Really?" McKenna said.

"Oh yes. Has she told you about Wait-for-a-Taxi Guy?"

I looked at her. "Wait-for-a-Taxi Guy?"

"Yeah, it was when she lived in Baltimore. That story is unbelievable."

"Well?" McKenna said. "Are you going to leave us just hanging?"

Andie leaned toward us for a moment, and then sat up straight. "Are you sure you want to hear this? It's gross, and we're eating."

McKenna waved a hand in front of her. "Please. You don't know gross until you give birth."

Andie nodded. "True. It doesn't get much grosser than pus.h.i.+ng a fully formed human being out of your v.a.g.i.n.a."

"Andie!" I said, laughing.

"She brought it up," Andie said with a shrug.

McKenna rubbed her hands together. "OK, lay it on us."

Andie leaned in again and lowered her voice. "OK, so listen to this. When she lived in Baltimore, Paige went on a blind date with some guy who worked with a friend of hers or something."

"OK..." I said.

"So the date went fine. Not amazing or anything, but not awful, either. Just fine. They went to dinner at some restaurant in her neighborhood, nothing fancy."

She paused to take a sip of her wine. We waited for her to continue.

"Apparently Paige was living in an area where there aren't a lot of cabs cruising around on a Thursday night. So after dinner, her date suggested that he call a cab and wait for it at her apartment after walking her home. She was like, OK, whatever. But just so you know, I have an early flight tomorrow morning, so I need to pack."

I rolled my eyes. "Lie."

"No. Totally true. And she was going to be gone for like ten days, so she really did need to pack."

McKenna gestured for her to continue. "OK..."

"Paige told him this, but he still wanted to come up, so they walked to her building and went upstairs, and he called a cab. She showed him around the living room and handed him the TV remote, then started packing. For like five minutes she was in and out of the bedroom and the bathroom getting her things together...until she heard some weird noises coming from the living room."

I raised my eyebrows.

"At first she thought it was the TV, but the noises kept getting louder, so she decided to see what was going on..."

"And?" McKenna and I said at the same time.

"And...I kid you not..."

"And what?" we said.

Andie lowered her voice even further. "And...the guy was...well...he was...having a little party on her couch."

"A little party?" McKenna said.

Andie made a squeamish face. "Yeah, you know...like a party for one? Like...in his pants?"

I laughed aloud. "You're joking."

"Totally not joking."

"No way," McKenna said.

Andie held her palms in front of her. "Paige swears it's true. Why the h.e.l.l would she make up a crazy story like that?"

"So what happened then?" I asked.

"Well, she was like, Um, what are you doing, you perv? And apparently he jumped up, zipped up, and took off. And that was it."

"Wow, that guy had some b.a.l.l.s," McKenna said.

I looked at her and laughed. "Yeah, literally."

"At least she didn't like that one." Andie gestured to herself and then to me. "Both Waverly and I have had our dating nightmares, but most of them were more funny than sad. Poor Paige has dated some serious a.s.sholes. She puts on a good face, but she's been hurt a lot."

"Yeah, I've sort of figured that out," I said.

Andie nodded at me. "It's not fair. She's so nice, you know?"

"Yeah, it's not fair." If you only knew.

The ring of McKenna's cell phone saved me from having to say anything more.

"I'm sorry, ladies, that's Hunter. I should get this." She stood up to take her phone outside.

"I'll get up too," I said. "I need to use the restroom."

"That means more wine for me," Andie said, refilling her gla.s.s.

Crisis averted.

a a a "So your dad's getting married?"

I took a sip of my coffee and smiled. "Can you believe it? I never thought I'd see the day, but he's like a new man since he met Betty."

Andie nodded. "Scary how that works. I keep hoping some guy will come along to make a new woman of my mom, but apparently my dad isn't going anywhere, so she's still a huge b.i.t.c.h."

I laughed. "Come on, she's not that bad."

"Oh no, she's a nightmare. But it's OK. I've come to accept it."

We were finis.h.i.+ng up brunch the next morning and trying to figure out how to spend our last hours together before Andie and McKenna left for the airport. I was so sad the weekend was already coming to a close. McKenna still wasn't feeling great after our big night out Friday, so we'd again abandoned the idea of a nausea-enhancing ferry ride.

"How about we take one of those tours at the Tenement Museum on the Lower East Side? I hear they're cool," I said.

Andie shook her head. "Too depressing. I'm already depressed enough that we're leaving."

McKenna took a bite of her French toast. "Can you imagine sharing one or two bathrooms with like twenty other families?"

"I can't even imagine having a roommate," I said, suddenly feeling guilty at all the food I was leaving on my plate.

After brunch, we finally made a decision to walk the High Line, an abandoned elevated subway track that had been turned into a charming park covering a mile-long stretch on the west side of Manhattan. After strolling the length of it, we finished off the afternoon with a hot chocolate up in Bryant Park, and then took the subway back to Brooklyn Heights.

We got home later than we should have, so Andie and McKenna ended up packing in a mad rush. I grew sad as I watched them throw their bags together.

"I can't believe the weekend is already over. That went way too fast."

"I know. I didn't even eat a cheap hot dog on the street," Andie said. "Nick is going to be so disappointed in me."

"You know what? I'm sad to leave, but I'm also excited to get home to Elizabeth," McKenna said. "I can't believe how much I miss that adorable, toothless grin of hers. I even miss her little baby smell."

"You'd better not be talking about the smell that most people a.s.sociate with babies," Andie said. "If so, you've totally lost it."

"And you miss Hunter too, of course," I said.

McKenna laughed. "Of course. Hunter smells good too."

The buzz of the doorbell alerted us to the arrival of the taxi. Out of nowhere, tears started welling up in my eyes. My tiny elevator wasn't big enough for all of us with their luggage, so I held the gate open for the two of them before descending the stairs alone.

I met them at the elevator, which was so rickety and slow that I beat them there.

"I think I just suffocated to death." Andie jumped out of the tiny cage into the fresh air of the lobby. "I think I may be dead right now."

"Good lord, you're so high-maintenance," McKenna said. "Does Nick know you're so high-maintenance?"

Andie tilted her head to one side. "Does Hunter know you were dancing on a table two nights ago?"

"Touche," McKenna said, laughing.

Andie nodded. "Don't poke the bear."

Once we were on the sidewalk outside my building, they took turns hugging me good-bye.

"Good luck meeting Jake's parents," McKenna said.

Suddenly I was nervous. "Thanks. I may need it."

"No you won't, that was just an expression. They're going to love you. How could they not?"

Andie nodded. "You are quite loveable. Now, don't be a stranger. I don't want to have to tune into Love, Wendy to make sure you don't cut your bangs too short again."

I laughed. "I promise to be better about keeping in touch."

McKenna put her arm around me. "So I guess we'll see you at your dad's wedding?"

I felt the tears welling up again. "You're really going to come?"

She nodded. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Ditto," Andie said. "What better way to celebrate Valentine's Day?"

I smiled. "You two are the best. I don't know what I'd do without you. What would I do without you?"

"Apparently, you'd be turning into a TV star in the Big Apple," Andie said. She made scissors with her fingers. "Remember, don't cut those bangs."

I saluted. "I promise."

I hugged them each once more, and then let out a sigh as I watched their cab drive away. I wish you both lived here.

After the taxi turned the corner, I unlocked the front door of my building and slowly climbed the stairs back to my apartment. Now feeling gloomy, all I wanted to do was curl up with a blanket and watch a sappy movie on Lifetime. I also wanted to call Jake and fill him in on all the fun details of the weekend. I needed to hear his soothing voice.