It’s for a good cause, I remind myself for the umpteenth time. Skeet is gonna owe me BIG TIME for this one. The only reason why I agreed to participate in this wretched bachelorette auction is to help bring awareness to Skeet’s outreach program, which she started to help underprivileged adolescents who need a place to go while their parents are at work. Skeet’s program isn’t merely a daycare but more of an activity center where teenagers enjoy hanging out.
I admire Skeet for her humanitarian efforts. Granted, Skeet is no Mother Teresa. She’s more like Bilbo Baggins, the hobbit, whose predictable life was disrupted when Gandalf showed up at his door and set him off on his grand adventure. Except, in Skeet’s case, her Gandalf came in the form of a grumpy old man named Henry who took a liking to Skeet and left her his fortune with the express instruction to use it to help other people. To Skeet’s credit, she’s honoring Henry’s wishes and doing all that she can to help members of the community. (I wish someone would have told me that when Henry set Skeet down her “\altruistic path that I’d be on the hook too. Normally, I don’t mind helping, but this auction has me squirming like I’m food for a colony of fiendish fire ants.)
For a while there, Skeet and I could commiserate about being the only two in our friend group who were still single. Now that Skeet is blissfully married to her best friend, and my brother, Jasper, I’m all by my lonesome. It’s a sad, dreary place to be. (Wonk. Wonk.
Debbie Downer alert.) Gah, that sounded pathetic. Okay, my life isn’t all THAT bad.
Despite my own problems, I’m thrilled beyond words that Skeet and Jasper finally got together, and I’m proud to say that I helped the cause by playing matchmaker. I was super invested in Skeet and Jasper’s relationship, to the point where I got steaming mad at Skeet for a while there when it didn’t seem like she was going to own up to her feelings about Jasper.
A humorless grin tugs at my lips as the psychology professor in me pipes in, arguing that my getting wrapped up in Skeet and Jasper’s relationship was a form of transference. I have a bad habit of living vicariously through other people—wanting to help them find their happily-ever-after because my path towards that destination has been blocked by an insurmountable obstacle.
Despondency clutches me in a tight grip as I think of Reid, a fellow professor at the college where I teach. Reid teaches English and literature. A deep longing stirs through me, reminding me of how much I miss having him in my life. Immediately, my rational side kicks in with a reminder that Reid made a reasonable decision. He chose the well-being of his children over me. How can I fault him for that? Reid is trying to patch things up with his ex-wife Cresta in the hope that the two of them can be a family with their son and daughter. Eventually when Reid remarries Cresta, I’ll have to come to grips with the fact that I’ve lost him for good. I take in a deep breath as I pull my thoughts away from Reid.
My stomach twists into one of those dreaded pretzel yoga poses that are impossible to get into and out of as I scan the packed audience. The enormous ballroom of the country club is filled to the brim. All the seats are occupied, and people are standing in the back.
Every year, Dottie Claybourne holds a Christmas party at the club. It’s the event of the season. Wanting to mix things up a bit, Dottie brainstormed having a bachelor auction before the start of her party. She pitched the idea to Skeet who ran it by me. Unable to stomach the idea of the desperate women of Comfort trying to outbid one another to secure a date with the slim pickings of men that we have to choose from, I suggested that we hold a bachelorette auction instead. Dumb me, I should’ve looked down the pike far enough to realize that I’d be one of the “lucky” bachelorettes. Even worse, I’m the grand finale.
Let me rephrase that. I might be the final bachelorette to be auctioned off this evening, but the finale award will surely go to Caroline Morelli who’s now on the stage. Her bid is approaching one thousand dollars. Wow! That’s the highest bid of the night. I hate to admit it, but Nellie Kinsey was right in her prediction of Caroline earning the top bid. I grunt softly thinking how much I detest Nellie’s hateful blog that she writes about Comfort. Nellie Kinsey is a busy body of the worst sort, hiding behind her computer and wreaking havoc on unsuspecting town members.
On a positive note, I’m excited about the money Caroline’s bid will bring to the outreach program, especially since Skeet has pledged to donate three of her own dollars for every dollar raised at the auction. Then again, this auction is not about earning money. Skeet can easily fund the outreach program a hundred times over. However, she wanted to bring awareness to the center and figured that the townsfolk of Comfort would be more invested if they spent some of their own money to support the effort.
Bless her heart, poor Caroline was a bundle of nerves before going out on stage. I don’t blame Caroline for being nervous. She has been through the wringer. Several years ago, her husband died suddenly in a road biking accident, leaving her to raise their teenage son. Caroline recently came back to Comfort to help her mom Willie Jo run her pizza restaurant. Willie Jo fell off a ladder and is out of commission. Caroline reconnected with her first love, Hayden Morelli, who happens to be her late husband’s brother. Caroline admitted to me earlier that she has a reputation for freaking out and running from potential dates that well-intentioned friends set her up on. Hayden is outside waiting, hoping that Caroline will run from the auction and straight to him. It won’t be easy for Hayden and Caroline to be together. Tongues will wag about their complicated family connections. Despite all of that, I encouraged Caroline to run to Hayden. Here I go again … living vicariously through other people.
Desperate to overcome her fears, Caroline wants to see the auction through. However, I pointed out to her that if she runs to Hayden, then she’s not following a destructive pattern of running away from something but to something. The romantic in me swoons thinking of Hayden waiting outside. Will she leave him hanging the way Reid left me hanging?
The MC’s voice interrupts my thoughts when she exclaims, “Two thousand dollars. Folks, this is incredible. Do I hear two thousand and fifty?”
I see another hand go up.
Disappointment stirs inside me. If only Caroline would have summoned the courage to pursue her happily-ever-after.
The next second, Caroline takes a step back. Then she turns and flees. When she flies past me, I give her a hearty two-thumbs up. My spirits soar, and I feel as though my underdog horse has just won the Kentucky Derby. Maybe all hope is not lost, after all. Caroline has mustered the courage to run to Hayden. If only I could run to Reid.
Murmurs rustle through the audience.
“Well, folks,” the MC chuckles, “that’s not something you see every day. I suppose when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go.”
This brings a few chortles from the crowd.
“It doesn’t look like she’s coming back. A heartfelt apology to Caroline’s top bidder.” Her voice takes on a practical note. “The good news is that we saved the best for last,” she fires with excitement. “Give it up for our final bachelorette of the evening, Blakely Donelson.”
That’s my cue. Taking in a quick breath, I straighten my shoulders and go out on stage. My smile is stretched like taffy over my face, and I tell myself to walk with light, dainty steps the way Albany taught me. Her words ring like an annoying cowbell in my ears. Remember, you’re a graceful gazelle, not a flat-footed hippo.
Albany was the pageant girl, not me. Of course, it’s not like Albany could participate in the auction seeing as how she’s married with a child. (Lucky her!) What does it say about me that all of my friends have moved on with their lives, and I’m still in the same spot, treading water? Although at the moment, it feels more like I’m drowning in quicksand.
“A native of Comfort, Blakely teaches Psychology at Comfort State College. She’s the daughter of Mark and Patsy Donelson. Her brother, Jasper, is a firefighter and the husband of Skeet Donelson who is the sponsor of tonight’s auction.”
I stop at the designated spot in the center of the stage. Remembering Albany’s instruction, I position one foot over the other and try to stand up straight, holding in my stomach. (Let’s hope the Spanx will do it’s job and keep everything molded into place.)
“Let’s start the bidding at three hundred dollars. Three hundred dollars to the gentleman in the middle.”
I peer out to see who threw out the first bid, but the stage lights are blinding me so that I can’t see a thing. A smile is plastered over my face, and all I can think is that I can’t believe I’m being auctioned off like a slab of meat to the highest bidder. I tout to my students that the value of a person has more to do with what’s on the inside rather than the outside. With this one event, I’m throwing away a lifetime’s worth of sound wisdom. Like I said, Skeet is gonna owe me BIG TIME for this.
The bid steadily climbs. I figure it’ll top off at fifteen hundred, but it keeps going. When it gets to two thousand dollars, my jaw drops like it has been weighted in lead.
“Two thousand dollars to the gentleman over on the side. Who’ll make it two thousand one hundred?”
I look to where the MC is standing behind a podium. She points.
“Two thousand one hundred to the gentleman in the back. Two thousand two hundred,” she calls out. “There we go. Two thousand two hundred dollars goes to the gentleman off to the side.”
The bidding goes back and forth like a ping pong battle between the man on the side and the one in the back. Curiosity stirs inside me, wondering who these men are.
“It looks like we have a bidding war,” the MC proclaims exuberantly as she keeps raising the price. I’m astounded when the bidding finally ends at twenty-eight hundred dollars. “Congratulations to the gentleman in the back. What is your name, sir?”
The man answers, but he’s too far away for me to make out what he said.
People in the back convey the man’s name up through the chain of the audience until it reaches the MC. “Congratulations to Reid Thornston,” the MC booms. “You paid the top dollar of the evening for a date with Blakely Donelson.”
Thunderous applause breaks out and fills the cavernous ballroom.
Confusion whirls through me as I go weak in the knees. Reid bid on me? Why? I thought he was working things out with Cresta so he could be there for his kids.
Hope percolates in my breast as my vision blurs with moisture. This can only mean one thing …
Even though it ripped me to pieces, I had the courage to do the right thing—I behaved like a rational adult and let Reid go in a grownup, amicable fashion with the understanding that we could still be friends. Now, he’s coming back to me.
“Congratulations to the highest bidder,” Dottie Claybourne coos as she places a hand on my arm. I avert my eyes to avoid getting scarred by her plunging gown that leaves little to the imagination. I heard through the grapevine that Dottie got a boob job. It would seem that she’s quite proud of her new purchase and wants to show them off. Ew. I don’t need that snapshot in my brain. Instead, I focus on her glossy red fingernails. Light from the overhead chandelier picks up the shimmery gold tips on the ends. Dottie is one of those pampered women who probably spent an entire week getting ready for tonight’s event. She hosts the Christmas party every year at the club and was the organizer behind the bachelorette auction.
“Thanks.” Offering a brief smile, I scan the people in the ballroom, searching for Reid. A breathless energy is surging through me, demanding to be released. I’ve got to find Reid so I can discover why he bid on me.
The corners of Dottie’s lips turn down as outrage coats her voice. “I can’t believe that Caroline fled the auction. Talk about irresponsible. I expected more from Willie Jo’s daughter.”
I don’t dare admit that I encouraged Caroline to run. I slide a note of gentle persuasion into my voice, hoping to appeal to Dottie’s sympathetic side. Err … that is, if she has one. “I wouldn’t be too hard on Caroline. It would be tough to lose a husband.” As if I know anything about husbands. I can’t even manage to keep a boyfriend. Or maybe I can. Is Reid coming back to me? My eyes ping around the room. Where is he?
“I suppose,” Dottie grunts. “She certainly didn’t score any brownie points with me. Caroline nearly ruined the auction.” Her voice lifts as she oozes a syrupy smile. “But you saved the day. Twenty-eight hundred dollars. Wow.” She gives me an insinuating look. “Does this mean that you and your professor are back together?”
A blip of giddiness circles through me. That has to be what’s going on here, right? Regardless of what might be happening with Reid, I have no intention of discussing my personal life with Dottie. “Would you excuse me?” I offer an apologetic smile.
“Sure,” she nods but doesn’t look happy about me brushing her off.
Oh, well, I’ll have to mend fences with Dottie later. Right now, I have a bigger fish to fry.
I move past Dottie and weave my way through the tight clusters of people, many of whom offer hearty congratulations. “Thanks so much,” I respond with a tight smile.
My heart flips when I spot Reid coming toward me. He’s dressed in a navy suit and popping yellow bowtie. I’m sure my friends will think the bowtie is hokey, but it fits Reid to a T. His off-beat manner and quirky style of dress might not appeal to most, but I find his bookish intellect stimulating. He’s what you would call an Indiana Jones type sans the adventure. Albany finds him dull and has made a point of telling me that he’s a limp noodle over and over, emphasizing that I can do better. While I appreciate Albany’s concern, she doesn’t know Reid like I do. It’s like I told Albany, I’m not looking for some pretty guy whom I can pin up like a poster to gawk at. I want a man with substance. Reid’s like an avocado—nondescript and a little plain on the outside, but oh so smooth and rich on the inside. All I know is that when Reid quotes Byron to me in his full-throated lyrical voice, I swoon.
“Hey,” I begin with a tremulous smile.
“Hey,” he utters, his brown eyes flicking over me with more appreciation than I ever thought him possible of exhibiting. “You look beautiful.”
Moisture prickles in my eyes. Wow. This is a new side of Reid. He’s never told me I was beautiful before.
Touching my arm, he leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek. I never knew he could be so tender.
When he pulls back, I hold his gaze in a question. “You broke the bank tonight with the bid. What does that mean?” My breath catches as I wait for his answer. Do I dare to hope that he’s coming back to me?
He searches my face. The vulnerability in his expression calls to me, a sharp reminder that I’ve been miserable without him. “That I miss you.”
His soft, plaintive tone wraps me in a cocoon of warmth. “What about Cresta,” I ask hoarsely, “and your kids?”
He swallows before glancing at the couples in the center of the floor. “Would you care to dance?”
“Sure,” I answer, figuring he’s trying to ease his way into the conversation.
Placing his hand on the crook of my elbow, he leads me onto the dance floor and draws me into his arms. As we move to the slow song, multiple eyes are zeroed in on us like we’re making a debut on Dancing with the Stars.
A chuckle tickles my throat. “I can’t believe you paid twenty-eight hundred dollars to go on a date with me.” I peer up into his face, noting the faint shadows beneath his eyes. Has Reid been pining away for me as I have been for him? Ever since our breakup, he’s been avoiding me at the college. I figured he was doing so to make it easier on the both of us. While I’ve been sorely tempted to meander over to the English department just to get a glance at him, I’ve refrained.
“You’re worth every penny,” he says.
Did I hear him right? That’s the second compliment tonight. I can count on one hand the number of times Reid has complimented me. I’ve always attributed his reticence to him being focused on loftier matters. However, tonight feels different. Tonight is a night for new beginnings. A glow of pleasure warms through me as a smile curves my lips. Even though his dancing skills are abysmal, being in his arms is a triumph. “I would’ve gone out with you for free,” I admit softly. Our eyes catch and hold. Oh, how I’ve missed him. “I thought you were working things out with Cresta.”
His jaw tightens. “About that.” Long pause. “It didn’t work out.”
A dozen questions pop through my mind like the rat-a-tat-tat of firecrackers going off in rapid succession. Am I the reason why it didn’t work out? Did Reid choose me over her? When Reid broke up with me, he explained in careful detail that it wasn’t about Cresta. He felt obligated to go back to his ex-wife for the sake of his kids. “Matthew is struggling in school, and Laney cries herself to sleep every night. They need their dad to be there for them in the home,” Reid insisted. He laid out his case in such a thoughtful, rational manner that my broken heart seemed of little consequence compared to weightier matters. How could I place my own happiness above that of Reid’s kids?
The only logical course of action was to let him go. “How are Matthew and Laney?”
He gives me a brief smile. “They’ll be fine. They know that Cresta and I both love them. That’s the most important thing.”
I tip my head, needing to know more. “What happened between you and Cresta?”
Shadows shroud his eyes. For a second, I’ve lost him behind a door of things which I have yet to experience—forging a bond of marriage, sharing a mortgage and other household expenses, pouring your dreams and hopes into your kids. Irony clips his voice. “We started fighting, reminding us of why we broke up in the first place.”
The regret on his expression rips at my heart, mainly because I can tell that a part of him is still connected to Cresta. Reid will always be tied to her because of their shared experiences and their kids. Disappointment climbs up my throat as I swallow it down. I’m not sure how I expected him to respond to my question, but I suppose I hoped his words would include something about not being able to live without me.
I’ve always known that I love Reid more than he loves me. Or maybe I’m just better at showing it. My love for Reid started out as admiration for his notable academic career and the many articles that he has published in literary magazines. When Reid is in his classroom, lecturing, he’s a superstar. The downside of him being such a deep thinker is that he often has a hard time expressing his feelings. When I peel back the intellectual layers, I suppose there’s a sliver of me that wouldn’t mind being swept off my feet—to be looked at the way Jasper looks at Skeet or how Memphis looks at Pen. Romance is not in Reid’s DNA. The fact that he came here and bid on me speaks volumes.
I can feel his nervousness as he clears his throat. “Are you free tomorrow night? I was hoping we could go out on that date.”
A teasing smile tugs at a corner of my lips. “Well, since you did pay twenty-eight hundred dollars, I suppose I can clear my schedule.”
Relief smooths out his features as he rewards me with a grateful smile.
When I was a little girl, I used to dream about being swept away by my very own Prince Charming. I wanted the white horse, a castle, and the sparkly princess-style dress with the puffy sleeves and skirt voluminous enough to house Ursula the Sea Witch. As I’ve matured and grown into myself, I’ve come to realize that not all relationships are storybook romances like Skeet and Jasper’s. Some are more sedate and grownup. While the little girl in me mourns about that and still holds onto the hope of being rescued by a prince from the dragon of doldrums, the adult in me argues that I need to be content with what Reid is able to give. He came here and bid on me. We’re going out tomorrow night. That has to mean our relationship is moving forward. I should probably question him more about where the two of us stand. However, right now, it feels good to simply be in his arms. Tonight, I can bask in the knowledge that I not only garnered the top bid of the auction. But even more important, the bid came from Reid.
From what I can tell, he seems to be intent on resuming our relationship. I’m cautiously optimistic that perhaps this time, he’ll come back to me for good.
