Thump. I groan and bury my head under my pillow. Thump. Can my dad be any louder in the morning? Thump. No, he can’t. Thump. I look at the clock and notice the time is nearly 7:30. Drat! I fly out of bed and run to the bathroom. I promised to walk Jenny, the daughter of my scrumptious neighbor Danny, to school. I rush through my morning routine and am just running up the stairs when Jenny knocks on the door.
I greet Jenny with a hug and try not to drool over Danny. The man only gets better with age. So unfair! I’ve always had a whopper of a crush on the boy next door, but since I came back home to help my dad find a nurse and have seen how well the man is looking now that we’re in our 30s, it’s all I can do not to tackle him. Sigh.
Danny takes off and I walk Jenny to school. Between Danny’s high school teaching job and football coach position, he doesn’t have an extra moment to breathe let alone time to take his daughter to school. Desperate to spend any time I can with the man, I agreed to take his daughter to school. I was totally terrified of the girl at first as I have no experience whatsoever with children, but Jenny quickly burrowed her way into my heart. I can’t help but love a girl that wants to wear an Aladdin costume to a football game.
After I get back from Jenny’s school, I quickly prepare breakfast for Dad and myself. My dad hastily eats before molding his butt to his chair and turning on the television. That’s pretty much what he does all day, everyday; interrupted only by his whining and moaning about this, that, and the other. I head down to the basement and get to work. I started a blog, Molly’s Misadventures, a few weeks ago and now I’m trying to see if I can make it as a professional blogger.
My teacher advised me to set up social media pages for the blog and today is the day I’m going to tackle that. It doesn’t take long to get the various pages set-up. I then post some witty updates about today’s upcoming date. Yes, I’m back in the dating game since my husband decided to have his way with his secretary on our sofa. Totally throwing that sofa away.
I’m meeting my date for an after dinner drink at a recently opened wine bar. I love wine and am thrilled that Harrison – obviously not his real name – wants to meet there. I quickly throw on a sundress and jump in my dad’s Mustang to drive to the bar. I grab a table and sit down to wait for my date. Fifteen minutes later I’m still waiting and thinking I’ve been stood up. Like that’s not embarrassing. The waitress has already been by three times to ask if I want to order. She even smirked at me. Bugger. Might as well order some wine and maybe a bit of food.
I’m just signaling the waitress when I see him. I assume it’s Harrison as he’s look harried and glancing around the room in dread. Great way to give a girl some confidence. He spots me and I wave. He nods and walks over. I watch as he saunters. He’s a good looking guy. A bit short, but I’m not exactly tall. He smiles at me as he sits and then he ruins it all by opening his mouth. Without further ado, he explains that he doesn’t really want to date, but his parents are forcing him. How can parents force a grown man to date? Turns out they own a construction company and if he wants to take over the business some day, he has to play his cards right.
He stays for an obligatory drink and then takes off. My salad arrives as he leaves and I order another glass of wine. I’m just finishing my meal when Danny texts to ask how my date was. I tell him it wasn’t even blog worthy. He immediately texts back that he has a bottle of Chardonnay with my name on it. I shouldn’t say yes. Every time I see him I’m just reminded of the fact that none of my dates will ever measure up to Danny. Unfortunately, Danny’s willingness to talk about my dates makes it pretty obvious that he’s not having any romantic feelings for me. But I’m a glutton for punishment. I text back that I’ll be there in half an hour.
And thus I end up spending the evening as I’ve spent way too many evenings since being back home, sitting with Danny on his porch swing drinking a bottle of wine. I could get used to this.
Molly’s Misadventures, published in January 2016.
I’m having the suckiest day ever. First, my father, aka Mr. Grumpy Pants, calls to say his nurse just walked out on him. Likely story. I rush home to pack, only to walk in on my husband getting it on with his younger, skanky secretary. Unfortunately, my quick weekend trip home to fix Dad’s problems turns into a stay of a few weeks. Luckily, I’ve got Danny, the neighbor boy I’ve had a crush on since I was a dorky, braces-wearing, nose-buried-in-a-book teenager, and a brand-spanking new blog to keep my mind off things. Before I know it, I’m writing product reviews of vibrators and getting questioned by a store rent-a-cop at the world’s worst date ever. All while trying to figure out how to take things with Danny to the next level. Not to complicate things or anything, but my boss decides to give me an ultimatum—come back in four weeks or don’t come back at all. How in the world did my life get so complicated?
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Meet the author
I grew up reading everything I could get my hands on from my mom’s Harlequin romances to Nancy Drew to Little Women. When I wasn’t flipping pages in a library book, I was penning horrendous poems, writing songs no one should ever sing, or drafting stories which have thankfully been destroyed. College and a stint in the U.S. Army came along, robbing me of free time to write and read, although I did manage every once in a while to sneak a book into my rucksack between rolled up socks, MRIs, t-shirts, and cold weather gear. A few years into my legal career, I was exhausted, fed up, and just plain done. I quit my job and sat down to write a manuscript, which I promptly hid in the attic after returning to the law. Another job change, this time from lawyer to B&B owner and I was again fed up and ready to scream I quit, which is incredibly difficult when you own the business. Thus, I shut the B&B during the week and in the off-season and started writing. Several books later I find myself in Istanbul writing full-time.
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