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Like … I don’t know. But I’m good at spontaneous. Much better at living in the moment than thinking ahead. And I’d highly prefer to just have a fun evening making Bailey’s birthday special than worrying about my time ticking down.
I grin and give the end of her hair a playful tug. “You’re about to find out.”
CHAPTER 6
Bailey
I’m pressing cool,wet hands to my cheeks when Shannon saunters into the bathroom at the bowling alley, whistling. Her smug smile tells me the cold water has done nothing to tame what feels like a permanent flush in my cheeks.
Of course my closest friend knows I’m flustered. And exactly why. Even if I hadn’t mentioned my crush on Eli before, I’m sure it would have been obvious tonight.
Can I help it if the man makes me shine brighter? Feel lighter? And blush like a schoolgirl with a crush?
Shannon leans a hip against the counter and brushes a strand of dark hair off her cheek. Oh, so casual.Toocasual. Somehow, she also manages to make her floral nightgown paired with bowling shoes look trendy and cute. Whereas I’m drowning in ugly pink fabric and certain I’ll wake up tomorrow to find some kind of bowling-shoe fungus on my feet.
I tug at the neckline of my own nightgown. It’s the kind I see women with tufts of white hair sporting in my grandmother’snursing home: a thick pink material with decorative buttons down the front and tiny flowers. It should fall to my knees, but the ruffled hem hits me mid-thigh. Which makes me wonder if it’s a child’s nightgown—usually I’m swallowed up in fabric, not worried about things being too short. Paired with orange knee socks and bowling shoes, I look like I lost a bet. Or several.
Instead, it was Beth—whom I’ll find a way to get even with later—who picked out my clothes for me as part of Eli’s supposedly Canadian birthday shenanigans. Our whole little group is now dressed in a random assortment of sleepwear. Well, Shannon, Eli, Van, and I are. After the Walmart shopping excursion, we lost the other two. They gave excuses about early work mornings, but I think it was more the idea of bowling in nightgowns that didn’t appeal to Jenny and Beth.
“Those Canadians sure love celebrating birthdays,” Shannon says, crossing her arms.
“Yup.” I rip off a paper towel from the dispenser and pretend like the rough brown paper is actually helping to dry my hands. Anything to avoid looking at Shannon.
“It’s weird, though.” Her voice takes on a thoughtful tone as she taps her chin. “I’ve never heard about Canadians doing a special birthday extravaganza.”
Me, neither. In fact I highly suspect that Eli, for whatever reason, made the birthday thing up.
Which would mean this entire night—from the round of drinks at the bar to bowling in the silly clothes to the as-yet-unfulfilled promise of waffles at my favorite diner—is only because Eli wanted to make my birthday more fun. Not because it’s the “Canadian way.”
The idea makes me ridiculously happy. But I need to find a way to tone it down to a manageable happy. Areasonablehappy. I’m getting way too many ideas.
When the reality is that Eli is a nice guy. A fun guy. A guy who seems to enjoy making other people happy, even people he’s barely friends with. Like me.
This has nothing to do with him crushing on me the way I’ve crushed on him for so long. And I’d really love for it to have nothing to do with his visa issues. Like this night is some weird way to ease me into his marriage-fraud idea.
“I don’t know much about Canada,” I say. “Other than like … hockey and snow and poutine. Is that a Canada thing or a Wisconsin thing? Sounds gross, either way.”
I’m babbling and I know it. Which won’t in any way help curtail my too-smart friend’s suspicions. I’m at least grateful I didn’t tell her about the whole mention of marriage. If Eli’s pretending that never happened, so am I.
Even if, deep in the recesses of my brain, I can’t stop thinking about it.
From what Eli said, he’s going to have to go back to Canada. I was already sad when I thought about not seeing him again. After tonight, it will be worse. I’d rather not face that fact on my birthday. But the thought has been there, like a steady hum of a refrigerator or the Muzak in a department store.
“Oh! And the Ryans! They’re Canadian,” I add. “ReynoldsandGosling.”
Shannon snorts. “Nice try, with your sad little Canada facts. But you know I’m like a bloodhound.” She makes a show of sniffing the air. “And I smell …romancein the air.”
I squeeze my paper towel into a tiny, tight ball before tossing it in the trash. But when I try to brush past Shannon, she blocks my exit. Her hands on my shoulders are surprisingly gentle. Yet also totally inescapable, like she’s a mama hawk and I’m the baby she’s grasping in her talons while flying above the tree line. The way my stomach is pitching and rolling, I can practically feel the ground dropping out beneath me.
“You like him,” Shannon says, her eyes roving over my face like she’s trying to find something she misplaced.
Rather than denying it, the way my panicking heart is telling me to, I roll my eyes. “Who wouldn’t? But it’s nothing. Just a tiny crush on a man who seems manufactured for the sole purpose of making women crush on him.”
“It’s not nothing, Bay.” The softness in her tone grates on me, even as it soothes me to know someone cares. “You deserve a crush on someone like Eli. Especially after losing so much.”
Her jaw clamps shut as I glare with the fiercest look I can muster. “Can we just not? It’s my birthday.”
Shannon sighs. “I know. I just love you. And you’ve shouldered a lot.”
