12 Days of Mistletoe

34. Bonnie

THIRTY-FOUR

bonnie

I am the most distracted dog walker in all the world. Poor Mitzie. I keep pausing every four steps to send a text to my sister.

Meg: So, you just made out in the hallway, right in front of poor Mrs. Bell?

Me: All kissing stopped the minute Mrs. Bell came onto the scene. Talk about a mood killer.

Meg: So there was a mood? I thought you said it was practice.

I don’t need kissing practice. I’m a great kisser. At least that’s what my one and only boyfriend, Joey Saunders, always said.

Meg: Who am I kidding? We both know that was a lie. So, you’re crushing on your fake boyfriend?

Me: Maybe.

Meg: Yes or no?

Me: MAYBE.

Meg: Do you often make out with guys you don’t like?

Me: Maybe.

Meg: Bonnie! What does Noel think?

I laugh and take six more steps just for Mitzie—she really wants to smell that light pole.

Me: Noel has been closed-lipped on the subject. Imagine that.

Meg: We both know your dog has more human reactions than canine.

I smirk and peer down at Noel, who is so much more patient with my distraction than Mitzie. I also feel a pang of longing and love for my sister for acknowledging Noel like she does.

Me: She likes him. They’re friends.

Meg: Well, there you go.

Me: There I go… where am I going?

Meg: Ask him out. Like on a real date, not a fake date.

But the thought has my heart pattering like a thunderstorm and Noel pushing her nose into my palm .

I take ten more steps, my phone out, my eyes rereading her question again and again.

Meg: Bonnie?

I pause next to another icy light pole—sorry, Mitz.

Me: I’m here. But I’m not sure how he feels. We still have another week of fake dating to do.

Meg: Sister. You’re not sure how he feels? I am. Either he likes you or he’s a sleaze bag and you need to ditch him.

Me: He’s not a sleaze. He’s a good person.

Meg: A guy doesn’t kiss a girl like that if he doesn’t like her. There’s either sleaziness happening or attraction happening.

Me: Attraction isn’t the same as liking someone.

I write, then start up my walk again before Mitzie decides to make a home and a lover out of that very innocent light pole.

Meg sends a GIF of the Little Mermaid impatiently blowing her bangs into the air.

Meg: I’m bringing in Autumn.

I jerk to a halt and poor Mitzie is jerked at the collar with my sudden stop. Noel, who has been trotting right next to me, anticipated the pause. See how smart my girl is?

Me: Autumn? Why do we need to bring anyone else into this conversation?

Meg: Because I’ve never faked my feelings before. We need a professional to assess the situation and help you out.

Me: And Autumn is a professional?

Meg: Oh, yeah. She pretended to NOT have feelings for her husband for a decade of her life. She’s the professional of all professionals when it comes to hiding how you feel.

Three minutes later, Mitzie is a block and a half farther into her walk and Autumn has been informed of the situation.

Fabulous .

Why not just announce my situation on social media, Meg? Let’s tell the whole wide world. Ugh.

I shove my tantrum aside and listen up—because Meg is a smart woman and Autumn might be helpful.

Autumn: Take it from someone who knows, Bonnie, the sooner you fess up, the better.

This conversation has taken a turn. A confessional turn and I am not a fan.

Me: Confess to what? That I MIGHT like the guy. I might. I’ve only known him for a week.

Autumn: Hmm. I would have guessed longer, seeing the two of you together.

Meg: Let’s be clear—it’s been more than a week! He started leaving her notes six months ago. Try again, little sister.

Autumn: I’m confused.

Me: He sent me notes telling me no dogs were allowed in the building. Not exactly get-to-know-you stuff.

Meg: He told her that she needed to get rid of her dog or he’d inform the owner. (Who happens to be his grandma, btw.)

Autumn: So… do we like him or not?

I walk myself and my dogs over to a snowy park bench and sit. This is going to take a minute.

Me: We like him. He was being protective of his grandma, not knowing about my situation.

I just assume that Meg has informed her bestie of my anxiety and Noel being more than a pet. If she hasn’t, I’m pretty sure Autumn is the type of person who would ask.

Me: He’s sweet and motivated and?—

My clumsy thumb hits send rather than delete.

Meg: And?

Autumn: And?

Me: And that’s all I feel like sharing right now.

Me: Here’s the deal: I’ve only positive feelings for him NOW. But we’re putting on this charade. His gran is leading the whole fake thing. That’s a different story, one I don’t completely understand.

Me: The point is, the timing for anything REAL is all wrong. It’s too confusing.

Autumn: That is confusing…

Autumn: You could talk about it and revisit these feelings after Christmas, when the Twelve Days of Mistletoe are over. It’s not that far away.

Me: Ugh. I knew I shouldn’t have shared Gran’s title for this sham with you, Meghan Miller Jex!

Meg: I’m sorry. That title was too good not to share.

Autumn: I don’t recommend waiting longer, Bonnie. Talk now. Act later. There’s a lot of pain mixed up in unsaid feelings.

Me: Opposed to the pain of unrequited feelings?

Autumn: At least then you’d know. You could move on.

I glance up from my phone, replaying her words over in my head. It’s a short replay—Mitzie the pug has high-centered herself on a small log bench for children just next to where I sit.

“Sorry, Mitz,” I say, shoving my phone into my pocket and freeing the little dog of her high-centered prison. “We’ve both got problems, don’t we, girl.”