There’s a fine line between love and hate. And for me, that line comes in the form of a trivia question. You see, I love Aiden Wallace. He’s been my best friend since, well…forever, but I hate losing to him. Actually, hate isn’t a strong enough word, I loathe losing to him. Which is why I rub my hands together and scoot forward in my seat.
This is it, the big moment.
Victory is about to be mine.
“Ours, dear.”
“Huh?” I look to my left. Edna is sitting casually in her chair, weaving a crochet hook in, out, and around a red piece of yarn.
God, I hope she’s not making me another hat. I have enough hats to last a lifetime.
“Victory will be ours, dear, not yours.”
“Did I say that out loud?”
Edna laughs and nods, not looking at all concerned that we’re one question away from being this year’s Senior Center trivia champions. Normally, I wouldn’t get worked up over a game, but I didn’t spend the last month brushing up on nineteen fifties trivia for nothing.
“You could at least look like you want to win,” I whisper to my eighty-year-old friend.
She chuckles again, making her belly jiggle, and I can’t help but smile. She’s so stinking cute and the closest thing to a grandma I’ve ever had.
“You’re going down, Donovan,” Aiden taunts from across the room.
His heckling earns him hoots, hollers, and high-fives from the older gentlemen in his group. I narrow my eyes at my trivia nemesis and stick out my tongue. Childish, yes, but the alternative is flipping him the bird, and the last time I did that, the Senior Center director banned me for an entire week.
In response to my juvenile gesture, Aiden blows me a kiss.
I gasp. How dare he think that he can win me over with affection?
Reaching out, I catch the imaginary kiss, toss it to the floor, and stomp on it. And because I’m feeling extra proud, I throw my hands into the air, making them explode.
Boom!
The room erupts in belly laughs and coughing fits and…oh, shit, Mr. Delmar just lost his dentures.
“Five-second rule,” he says, picking them up from the table and popping them back into his mouth. I cringe when he gives me a thumbs-up and silently pray that someone remembered to wipe these tables down.
“I don’t know why you two get so worked up over a Senior Center trivia game. You do know that the prize is a pudding cup, right? I have those at home.”
I look at Edna. “It’s not about the pudding cup. Aiden and I have a little something more riding on this year’s trivia league.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Edna shakes her head and looks at me. “What’s at stake?”
“Three months’ worth of laundry.”
She lets out a low whistle.
“I know, right? It’s huge. Huger than huge. You know how much I hate doing laundry.”
“And it’s all riding on today’s game?”
I shoot her a look like she’s crazy. “Heck, no. Aiden’s the king of trivia. It’s best of seven. Tonight’s night seven, and we’re tied three for three.” I look around the room, wondering what is taking so long. “Why are we just sitting here?”
“Dale Pinkerton had to empty his colostomy bag,” Betty says.
“Crap. He always struggles with that. We could be here for an hour. Maybe I should go see if he needs help.”
Betty cuts a hand through the air. “No need, his wife is here today. Instead, while we wait, you can tell us about your dating life,” she says, looking way too excited. “How’s it going?”
I lift an eyebrow and reach for my bottle of water. “You want to talk about my dating life?”
“Cut a girl a break and give me the deets. I might be eighty-four, but I’m not dead.”
“Deets?”
Betty rolls her eyes. “Details.”
“Yes, I know what deets means, I’m just surprised that you do.”
“I have an eighteen-year-old granddaughter.”
“Ah.” I nod in understanding. “Okay, well, there’s not much to tell.”
But it hasn’t been for lack of trying because Lord knows I’ve been trying. Date after date. So many dates that I came up with my own algorithm. If a guy gets to date number three, I promote him to boyfriend status. I’ve had twenty-one boyfriends in the last four years, and God knows how many other duds.
“What about that new dating app you found?” Clara asks.
“It’s the same as all the others. None of the guys are looking for an actual relationship, they just want to get laid.”
Clara shudders in her seat. “I read your last blog post. What is wrong with men these days?”
“Shhh.” I press my finger to my lips and look at the three ladies pointedly. “You promised not to tell anyone about the blog. It’s our little secret, remember?”
The Boyfriend Blog is four years old, and I’d been successful at keeping it top-secret until six months ago when my Senior Center pals invited me to their book club. I thought it was going to be a quiet night of talking about books, eating sweets, and drinking coffee, but boy was I wrong. These ladies whipped out Fifty Shades of Grey and handed me a beer. By the end of the night, I’d learned that these women have a more active sex life than I’ve ever had. That bit of info led to a slightly intoxicated self-pity party, which in turn led to me spilling the beans about the blog and my quest to find love.
It’s not a huge deal that they know because who are they going to tell? Aiden, maybe, but I think they know better than that. Not only did I swear them to secrecy, but I also threatened to quit driving them to the casino.
Edna smiles, and Betty pretends to lock her lips and throw away the key. “We’ll never mention it out loud again. Although, I don’t understand why it’s such a big secret.”
“It’s not really, it’s just…the blog is my outlet, you know? It’s my place to vent and complain and voice my wants, dreams, and expectations, and I really like that it’s just mine.”
Not even my twin sister knows about the blog.
I have two hundred and twenty thousand followers.
Two hundred and twenty thousand. That number still baffles me. Some of them have been around since day one, and others joined me along the way. We know each other by first name only, and I like it that way. They give me advice, and I dish it out in return from time to time, but what I like is that when I open my laptop and log into the blog, I can escape reality. Whether I write a five-minute post or spend two hours interacting with women going through the same shit I’m going through—it’s my outlet.
“I understand, dear. Say no more.” Betty pats my hand before reaching into the peanut bowl and scooping out a handful.
“But I really do appreciate that you guys are invested in my love life.”
“It isn’t exactly a love life,” Clara says. I purse my lips and give her a look. She simply smiles and counters back with, “When is your next date?”
“Tonight, with a guy I met on Mingle.”
“You know,” Clara says, pointing an arthritic finger at me. “You should go on a date with Aiden,” Betty says. “He’s so handsome.”
“And sweet. He comes over every week and helps me fill my medicine planner.” The pride in Edna’s voice and in her eyes makes my heart melt.
Two years ago, Aiden and I moved into the same apartment complex. We live two doors down from each other with sweet Edna nestled between us.
“He is pretty great, but we’re just friends.”
Best friends.
My eyes are drawn across the room toward the man, while the women around me chatter about how wonderful he is. Aiden is talking animatedly with a few older gentlemen, and when Rich Tremont starts coughing, Aiden grabs a cup of water and hands it to him.
He waits patiently until he’s sure Rich is going to be fine before continuing the conversation. I smile. He’s always been sweet, that was never his problem. The problem is that he’s a ladies’ man and knows it. He’s looking for a good time. I’m a forever kind of girl, and he’s a Mr. Right Now kind of guy. It doesn’t matter how many times he asks me out, or how badly I want to say yes, Aiden and I are a bad idea on a good day—something I learned to accept a long time ago.Aiden glances to the side and catches my eye. He watches me for a few seconds, and then his brows pull in, and he mouths, you okay?
I nod, and he smiles my favorite smile. Not the smirk he uses when trying to pick up a girl, but a genuine, bright smile that reaches all the way to his eyes and makes everything in the world feel right again.
“You know,” Edna says, placing her wrinkled hand on mine. “Robert was my best friend before we got married.”
I pull my gaze from Aiden. “I don’t think you’ve ever told me that.”
She nods and reaches for her crochet hook. “He was. He asked me out every day for a year before I accepted.”
“What made you finally say yes?” Clara asks, stealing the question from my lips.
“He said, ‘please.’” Edna shrugs unapologetically. “I like a guy with manners.”
“That’s sweet. A little harsh that you made him wait a year and practically beg, but still sweet.” I smile wistfully, hoping that someday I’ll have a story like that to tell my family and friends.
Edna nods toward Aiden. “What would you say if he asked you out?”
I open my mouth to tell her that he already has, and then snap it shut. Edna would take that information and run with it. “For as long as I’ve known Aiden—which has been a long damn time—he’s never been with a girl for longer than two dates. I don’t even know if he’s ever had an actual girlfriend.”
“You still didn’t answer my question,” Edna says, raising a silver brow. “What would you say if he asked you out?”
Every time he asks, I desperately want to say “yes,” but then I remember that awful night in college that I hate thinking about, and my answer is always no. Aiden as a friend is safe, but Aiden as anything more…isn’t.
“Ladies and gentlemen, are we ready for the final question?” the emcee says.
“Whoop!” Saved by the Senior Center director. I clap my hands and look at Edna, Betty, and Clara. “Let’s do this!”
I hear a similar commotion coming from Aiden’s table and the third table in the back, but I’m not too worried about them; they’ve yet to win a game.
“For the win: Which famous song sung by Doris Day was introduced in the 1956 Hitchcock thriller, The Man Who Knew Too Much?”
My lips part, ready to blurt out the answer when I realize I don’t know it. I look frantically at the girls. “Who is Doris Day?”
Betty laughs. “I love Doris Day.”
“Me, too,” Edna says as she hums an unknown tune and sways her shoulders from side to side. “And I love that song.”
“What song? Tell me the song. Shout it out!”
“Secret Love!” Mr. Phillips yells.
The men’s table erupts in cheers while I drop my head to my hands and sulk. A whole three months of washing Aiden’s underwear.
I cringe in my seat.
“That answer is…wrong,” the emcee announces.
My head pops up. The room goes quiet as everyone whispers.
“Mmmm.” Edna continues to hum.
“Do you know the answer?” I ask.
She nods. “I was twenty when that song came out. I remember every word.”
“For the love of fifties music, shout it out, lady!”
Edna tosses her arthritic hand into the air and shouts, “Que Sera, Sera.”
“Correct! We have a winner!”
I jump from my seat, high-five my teammates, and do a happy dance across the floor to where Aiden sits. He stands up, pushes his hands into his pockets, and watches me twirl around his table.
“Are you done yet?” he asks blandly after a solid five minutes.
I smile and shove playfully at his shoulder. “I’m just so happy.”
“I bet you are.”
“Should I bring over the first load of laundry tonight?”
“Haha. Very funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. I’m serious. You do separate your darks from your whites, right?”
“Yes.” He rolls his eyes and reaches for Edna’s elbow when she shuffles up to us. He lowers his head and whispers, “I’m blaming this on you, Edna. I thought we were friends, and here you are, helping the enemy win.”
Aiden winks at me over the top of Edna’s head as he leads us out of the building.
She chuckles and tightens her hold on his arm. “I stalled in answering. It’s not my fault the men at your table don’t know their music.”
“Hey!” I scoff, opening the passenger door of Aiden’s car for her. “I heard that. You wanted me to lose.”
Edna laughs and pats my cheek before she slides into the passenger seat. Aiden and I climb in and, once situated, she drops her head against the headrest and sighs as Aiden drives out of the parking lot.
“That was fun,” she says.
“It really was.”
Aiden locks eyes with me through the rearview mirror. “You’re just glad that you don’t have to wash my dirty socks for the next three months.”
“Not glad, relieved. Your socks could knock someone out cold.” I grin, and while I can’t see Aiden’s mouth from back here, I can see the smile in his eyes.
Edna’s laugh turns to a sniffle. She wipes her cheek, and I scoot forward in my seat and touch her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
She rests her hand on mine. “I’m just missing my Robert extra hard today.”
“Was today a special day?” Aiden asks, keeping his eyes on the road.
“No. It’s not an anniversary or anything like that, it’s just that Robert loved trivia, and he would’ve loved the two of you.”
“Aww. I’m sure we would’ve loved him, as well. Tell Aiden what you were telling me at the Senior Center, about how you made Robert ask you out for a whole year before you agreed.”
“Ouch.” Aiden places a hand to his chest and grimaces. “That’s harsh, Edna.”
She chuckles and swats at his arm. “Don’t feel too bad for the rascal, he had it coming. He was ornery, just like you.”
“Me, ornery? Tell me about him, and I’ll decide that for myself.”
“Okay, well, it all started when his family moved in next door to mine…”
Aiden’s eyes flick to the mirror again. He doesn’t have to say a word because I already know what he’s thinking.
That’s how our story started.