One Night Only

by Catherine Walsh

“Aren’t you going to go see Harvey?” Will asks, a little too innocently. “I’m going to wait until after your ten o’clock with Yasmin so you two have nothing to talk about.” He scowls, finally looking at me. “Spoilsport.” “Gossip.” “If he fires you, I’m taking your desk.”

“Sarah?” Harvey, my boss, stands beside the cubicle, his glasses pushed into his gray hair. “Do you have time for a quick chat?” No. “Of course!”

“What time are you leaving?” “Four thirty.” I wince at the thought. “I have to be up at six for my spinning class, so if you wake me when you leave, I will kill you.”

“I got a lash lift for the wedding. Paul says it makes me look a Disney cartoon.”

Annie isn’t exactly a bad driver, she’s just very accident prone when she’s behind the wheel. I’ve only been in a car with her a few times but in those times, she’s lost one bumper, hit two curbs and had three flat tires. And that’s not to mention the two crashes she had before I met her.

She stops beside a silver Audi and I stare at the dent in the side.

I put my luggage into the trunk, already picturing the headlines. bride-to-be killed days before her wedding in car crash chaos.

“Sarah bought tourist crap,” she says by way of retaliation. “I supported the local economy,” I correct, seeing Paul’s faux disappointment. “It’s not a leprechaun hat, is it?” “There were these lovely shamrock earrings…” “You know those things are made in China?”

Annie Dunmore, are going to enjoy it. I’m going to make you enjoy it.” She sighs, unsure. “Why does that sound like a threat?” “Because it is.”

“They’ll be grand, they have lots in common. They’re both in New York, they’re young, they’re single…” She trails off, the innocent look on her face fooling no one.

Girl is in her matchmaking era FR

“Mam thinks you have excellent posture,” is all he says when I reach his side. “And you’re an architect. That’s up there with medicine or law in her books.”

“I said you’re a middle child.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Feelings of exclusion, lack of attention—” “Are you analyzing me?” “You’re not that deep,” he mimics. I bite back my retort. “I’m an only child,” I say stiffly. “Even worse.”

IM SPEECHLESS

“Are you trying to mansplain my feelings to me?”

“Thank you. Is it okay to wait for the rain to stop? I promise to buy something.” “Take your time,” he says. “I’ve got some magazines over there if you like. Women like magazines.”

HES SO ICONIC its always the grandparents...

He’s sitting in one of the straight-back armchairs, reading a serious-looking newspaper. “Morning,” he says without looking up. “Good morning.” Great start, Sarah. Very polite. “What’s happening in the world today?” “No clue,” he says, tossing it aside. “I’m doing the crossword.”

I’ve been watching a twelve-part documentary series about serial killers and signing random petitions about microplastics.

“Your guy is cute though. He’s got that preppy, all-American thing going for him. Like he’d be in milk commercial.” “That’s weirdly specific but okay.”

“It’s like Bumble but only for attractive people.” She glances at me. “You probably haven’t heard—” “Ha-ha,” I say and she grins.

He holds out his cup. “Drink this.” “Why? Are you pregnant?” “No.” He widens his eyes. “But I bet you Suzie is.” “You’re a jerk,” I say, trying to hide my smile.

The whole thing with Josh went down before I met Claire. But I was still getting over him when we moved in together. Barely a week in she came home after work to find me ugly crying into a large bag of Cheetos on the kitchen floor because I spotted him in a CVS buying multivitamins.

As your work wife—” “Hannah’s my work wife,” he interrupts. “You’re more like the family hamster.”

“So just to confirm, I’m definitely forgiven?” “Goodbye, Declan.”

“Good morning.” He hands me a cup and I take a sip, only to wince as a sugary sweetness hits my tongue. “Why do you always make that face when I get you a drink?” “What’s in this?” I cough as I wipe my lip. It’s not enough. I want to wash my mouth out.

“Coffee.” “And?” “Two pumps of vanilla, extra cinnamon, cream—” “Oh my God,” I mutter, handing it back to him. “The cream’s nonfat.” “I can’t believe that’s your coffee order.” “Why what’s yours?” “Strong. Black. Normal.” “I’ll remember that for next time.”

“This is the next step in our relationship,” I tell her. “And this is your non-romantic relationship?” “Correct. It’s professional, friendly—” “Deluded.”

“We’re saving up to go and visit one day.” “I’d like to see it again before I die,” Eleanor sighs while Hattie rolls her eyes. “I’ve never been,” she says to me. “But she’s promised to bring me around. Visit her old town. Find her family and friends.” “Choose my gravesite,” Eleanor says solemnly. “Granny!”

“Well?” He looks up from his phone. “What?” “Is this better?” “Oh. The other one was fine. I just wanted to annoy you.”

We stan will

“What’s it like inside your head?” I wonder out loud. “With everyone in their neat little boxes, all equally hated by you.” “It’s organized. And uncomplicated. And I much prefer it to whatever melodrama is happening inside of yours.”

“What did you say?” “That you were just fine,” he says seriously. “No thanks to him.” “You didn’t.” “Not the second bit.”

Will frowns. “Does this mean I have to leave?” “You can do what you like,” I say, exasperated. “Well, I’m staying,” he says. “I’m making rich friends. Enjoy your tension or whatever is going on here.” He pauses before he goes, touching my arm lightly. “Make good choices.” He turns without another word and disappears back into the party. “He confuses me,” Declan says after a moment. “Try being friends with him.”

“You’re not one of those people who’s always in the gym, are you?” I ask suspiciously. “No, this is all natural. I work very long hours on my father’s farm.” “Never mind.” “I spend every summer tossing hay bales all sweaty and tired.” “I know your dad runs a post office.” “Of course I go to the gym.” “I go to Claire’s gym,” I say, my eyes on the skin of his throat visible above his collar. “Her trainer says if I keep up the good work, I’ll no longer be dead by forty-seven.” “Sounds like you’re making great progress.”

“So you are a romantic.” “I’m a realist.” “A Pisces,” Declan says, snapping his fingers. “I knew it.” “I’m a Scorpio.” “Pisces is the only one I know.”

“So, you can see after weeks of waiting for my chance with you, I wasn’t exactly thrilled when you kicked me out of your bed the next morning.” There’s a joking edge to his tone, but I feel deadly serious. “After all that planning.” He tsks. “You should have told me.” “I wanted to appear cool and detached.”

“You seriously don’t want to do anything?” Hi He laughs hoarsely.

HUH?!?!?!?!??

And questions. Endless questions. Where do I want to eat when he gets back? Have I ever been to the Natural History Museum? Have I ever been to the Natural History Museum at night? What’s my favorite bird? How do I not have a favorite bird?

Maybe I’m a paranoid woman with no self-respect but it’s hard to stop the various reasons for why he doesn’t come back, running from the most likely (he is busy and will be back in a few days) to the extreme (he’s lying dead in a ditch somewhere or is on the run from the law).

“You’ll never guess who I saw yesterday.” I turn back to the death notices, still scrolling. “Who?” “Tammy Wells! Do you remember her? She’s pregnant. With twins.” “Crazy.” “She looks great too. I think I hate her now.”

A text message comes through an hour later from Declan, confirming what Paul said. He’s coming back. And he can’t wait to see me.

“This couch is—” “The worst? Yeah, I know. It came with the apartment. I never sit there if I can help it.” “But you’re fine if I do?” He shrugs. “It’s my place.” “Such a gentleman.”

“Tell me about this dream.” I groan, dropping my head to his shoulder. “I want to know.” “And I want a Chanel purse,” I mutter into his shirt. “We don’t all get what we want.”

“Sorry,” she says, diving for it. “It’s the hospital.” “The hospital?” I ask faintly. “Oh, I’m fine. I work there. I’m a pediatrician.” Of course, she is. Why wouldn’t the tall, beautiful woman also be a highly trained medical professional? A children’s doctor. The most heroic of the doctors.

:)

Don’t give up on your happiness just because you’re scared it won’t last forever.”

“I can’t believe you’re dating Clem.” He smiles. “She’ll find this funny. What did you think I was doing all these years? Sitting in the basement playing solitaire?” “Kinda.”

And now he looks at me in such bewilderment that I laugh harder. “Is she alright?” a waiter asks as he passes. “She’s fine,” Declan says. “It’s just drugs.”

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

“I’m kind of a night owl,” I say, eyes searching his. “Sometimes I go for weeks without much sleep and then need a weekend where I’m just comatose for forty-eight hours.” “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

“I also don’t really like dogs. People judge me when I say this, but I can’t help it.” “I’m not judging you. We’ll get a cat.” “We?” “Yes,” he says softly. “We.” We. I like that. I like that a lot. “Not that we have to move fast,” he continues. “We’ve got time. We can take it slow if that’s what you want.” “I’d like that,” I say. “But maybe… maybe we can start slowing down tomorrow.”

“Could you take a look at the dresser in the bedroom? I think it would look better in here, but Soraya might push me out the window.” “Need a big strong man, huh?” “We’ll work with what we have.” “Oh, she made a joke. Jokesters get to put away the shopping.”

“I think the dresser’s fine where it is.” “Uh-huh.” “Wow, what a great job you did,” he calls from the kitchen. “I’ll do it in a sec.” “No, you won’t.”

“Okay,” Soraya says, holding up her hands. “No. I’m not staying around for this. Goodbye.” “Thank you for helping me,” I call after her. “Thank you for the forty percent vacation discount.” “Twenty percent.” Declan frowns. “The dresser upped my price.”

“No surprises. And nothing public,” I add, panicking at the thought. “And—” “We’ll talk.”