: Chapter 8

Hallie groaned as she read the text. The one that had woken her up because she’d forgotten to silence her notifications. It’s 5:30 a.m. on a Sunday. Eat glass.

Jack: I just wanted to be the first to wish you a good day.

Hallie: Thanks, asshole.

Jack: Now, now. Also, make sure you visit the app today and search for your next date.

Hallie pictured her speed dating matchups and shook her head, turned on the beside lamp and texted: That sounds awful.

Jack: You go, I go. Let’s do this together, Piper. Mr. Right, the guy who likes you more than anyone else in the world, is out there, just waiting for your little thumb to swipe him just right.

Hallie: Gross. The only way I’m going on another date already is if I can have Taco Hut afterward.

Jack: That is actually a great idea. Let’s plan dates at the speed dating bar, and if they’re a bust we’ll get tacos after. Cheese on the bottom, of course.

Hallie: Of course.

Okay—why does that sound like a good idea? I’m pretty sure there’s a reason this is terrible and I’m just missing it.

Jack: No, it’s genius. Make a connection today, and if a date is on the table, text me and we’ll plan accordingly.

Hallie: Okay.

Jack: Atta girl.

Hallie: Why are you awake so early btw?

Jack: I like to get in a run before work.

Hallie: Same. But it’s SUNDAY. Why are you working on a Sunday?

Jack: Because I have work to do.

Hallie: Also please tell me you don’t wear those tiny little running shorts.

Jack: Stop tryna picture me and my luscious thighs, perv.

Hallie: Definitely not doing THAT.

Jack: Wait, were you asking for a pic? Was that what that was?

Hallie: Please don’t make me block you.

Jack: Have a lovely day, TB.

Hallie rolled out of bed and went for a run since she was already awake, and the entire time, she practiced what she was going to say to Ruthie when she returned later that day. I love living with you, but I really think it’s time for me to get my own place like an adult. We can still hang out all the time.

Only Ruthie never came home that day. She sent a text around ten a.m. that read, Having too much fun to come back to the States—will be back next week, and Hallie wasn’t really surprised to discover that her roommate was out of the country.

After showering post-run and going on a quick Starbucks jaunt, she settled into the couch and started scrolling. It took a while, but she found a guy whose profile looked good enough to swipe and began messaging.

He seemed funny and nice, so when he asked if she wanted to meet up for dinner and drinks on Wednesday after work, she called Jack.

He answered after one ring, but she wondered if he was working, because he said, “This is Jack.”

“Hey, it’s Hallie. What’s up?”

She heard the smile in his voice when he said, “I cannot believe you called me instead of texting, boomer.”

“Do you have a sec?”

“Of course,” he said, and she wondered if he was home or at the office.

“Are you still working?” she asked.

“Yeah, but I’m cutting out soon.”

“Okay, well, I just had a guy ask me out on the app. Do you have any potential dates that you can do Wednesday night at six thirty-ish?”

“Who’s the guy?”

“His name is Stephen, he doesn’t hunt or fish, and he is a dentist. He’s into running, bingeing Netflix, and getting railed.”

“Whoa, dentist? That’s a date with bonus points.”

“Right? Although I’ll probably be worried the whole time that he’s checking out my plaque situation.”

“ ‘Plaques and racks’—I bet that’s Stephen’s motto.”

“You’re a pig.”

“Chill. It’s Stephen’s motto, not mine.”

Hallie said through her laugh, “So do you have any potential dates you can do Wednesday?”

“I actually have two.”

“Shut your stupid mouth!” Hallie yelled into the phone. “Since last night, you have chatted up two girls with enough of a potential connection to facilitate a date?”

“For the record,” he said, “I started talking to one of them yesterday before the speed dating thing.”

That made Hallie pause. She had no reason to expect him to tell her everything, but she felt a little . . . weird . . . that he hadn’t mentioned it. “So Wednesday . . . ?”

“That works.”

She went back to the dating app after they hung up and set the date up with the dentist, and when they closed out the chat because he had to go coach his niece’s little league soccer team, Hallie—ovaries imploding—was surprisingly excited about the date.

Stephen seemed promising, and if all else failed, there would be tacos.

Jack looked at the caller ID before raising the phone to his ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Olivia said, sounding confused. “Why?”

“Because we don’t talk on the phone. This is weird.”

“Yeah, but I’m super bored. Shoe full of broken toes, remember?”

“Oh, yes, that’s right,” he said, regretting the decision to answer the phone. He was trying to finish up work and go home, and he knew for a fact that Olivia’s boredom was only going to slow him down. Still, he asked, “How are the little nubbins, by the way?”

“Less swollen,” she said. “And marginally less purple.”

“Gross.”

“Right?”

“Listen, Liv, I’m trying to wrap things up here. Did you actually need something?”

“Rude,” she said under her breath, before adding, “I just wanted to tell you that I really like Hallie. That’s all.”

“Okay . . . ?” He said, “Me, too. What’s your point?”

“Nothing. I’m just really glad she’s around to push you into finding a match.”

“For fuck’s sake, Liv, why are you so obsessed with my love life?”

“Because I worry about you being sad,” she said. “Sue me for caring.”

“I was hammered at Billy’s that night. Will you please, for the love of God, just forget what I said?”

“You just sounded so sad and lonely, Jack.”

“I was lit, not lonely.”

He felt like a pathetic fuck whenever she brought it up, because he had been going through some weird emo phase over the past couple years. He had friends, coworkers, family—his life was full of people—yet he felt alone a lot.

Even when he was with them.

Shit—that is the literal definition of loneliness, isn’t it?

“Fine, you weren’t lonely.” She sounded utterly unconvinced. “Just promise me you’ll take the app seriously and keep trying, even when it sucks.”

“I will if you’ll promise to butt the hell out of my life.”

“Deal,” she said.

Before she had a chance to get off the couch, her phone started ringing.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um, is this Hallie?”

“Yes . . . ?”

“Oh, good. Hey, it’s Lydia from the leasing office at the Commons. There was a miscommunication within our office, and the apartment you’ll be renting is all cleaned and ready if you wanted to move in early.”

“Oh.” Hallie had not expected that. “Um, how much more would it be?”

“That’s the thing.” The leasing agent lowered her voice and said, “I screwed up the paperwork, so basically if you want to move in now, it’ll be the same. Rent will be due on the first, for the amount listed in your lease.”

“So I can move in now and get a couple weeks for free?” She couldn’t believe it. Hallie didn’t have bad luck, per se, but she’d never had especially good luck, either.

“If you come in when I’m working.”

Hallie was all of a sudden screamingly excited. “How much longer are you working today?”

“Until four.”

“Ohmigod, I’m on my way.”

Hallie ran to her car, cranked the radio, and flew downtown, beside herself with excitement over this surprising turn of events. She’d never lived alone before, especially not in a cool (though tiny) apartment, and she was pumped to move in early.

Maybe, she thought as she exited the interstate and followed the off-ramp, she could move all her stuff out before Ruthie came back (the living room furniture was all Ruthie’s, so it wouldn’t be a jerk move). Then she wouldn’t have to worry about awkwardly trying to pack silently in her room, and if Ruthie responded badly to the news, Hallie could just leave and never return.

When she pulled into the apartment office, her phone buzzed.

Jack: I already lost one of my two women.

That made Hallie giggle. What’d you do?

Jack: I told her that I didn’t like orangutans.

Hallie: First of all, is this true? Second of all, this upset her?

Jack: I know it’s a character flaw, but I’m terrified of all monkey-like creatures; always have been. I saw a lady on Oprah who got her face ripped off by one and I was never the same. So when she started telling me about an orangutan preserve she wanted to visit, I may have said something similar to “I’d rather die than go there.”

Hallie: You are a monster. I have a good friend who literally cries when she sees a cute orangutan because she loves them so much. BUT. Your comment torqued her off that much?

Jack: My comment big-time torqued her. She went on a rant about them, which I deserved, and then she went off about undatable men, which I felt was a low blow.

Hallie: Why is this story cracking me up?

Jack: Cuz you’re a dick. What’re you doing right now?

Hallie: Just pulled up to my new building. They’re letting me move in early!!!

Jack: What about Ruthie?

Hallie laughed and looked out her windshield. Funny that he remembered Ruthie’s name. She left me a msg that she’s not coming back for another week.

Jack: So you’re just going to be gone?

Hallie: No, but I can move my stuff out now. Everything in the living room is hers, so it’s not like she’ll even notice, because my bedroom door is always closed.

Jack: LMK if you want help moving.

Hallie: Seriously?

Jack: I’m a nice guy.

Hallie: But are you?

Jack: Sometimes. And I live nearby.

Hallie: Well then, yes. I want help. Please, please help.

Jack: When?

Hallie: I’m getting the keys now, and then I guess whenever you have time today would be great. You don’t have a truck, do you?

Jack: I actually do.

Hallie: Shut up.

Jack: I will not.

Hallie: You don’t seem like a truck guy.

Jack: Are you calling me a wuss?

Hallie: No. I think most guys who drive trucks do it to prove they’re manly. You strike me as someone confident enough in his masculinity to drive a Prius.

Jack: So you ARE calling me a wuss.

Hallie: You’re an idiot.

Jack: Better, thanks. Call me when you’re done and we’ll hatch a plan.

Well, the plan turned out to be something along the lines of “just do it.” After getting the keys, running up to her new place, calling Jack, and dancing around like a maniac, she went home and threw her stuff together.

Jack showed up an hour later and got to work, hauling her bed, dresser, nightstand, and desk out the door like he was the Rock. She helped, but they both knew she was more like a spotter than an equal lifter.

On a side note, he looked very good in casual clothing. She’d only ever seen him in a tux, naked, and in nicer date-night clothes so far, but that day, he was wearing faded old jeans and a Cubs T-shirt that was so worn it looked baby soft. He looked like the kind of guy they’d cast in a commercial for grabbing beers with the guys or picking up two-by-fours at a home improvement store.

Once the bed of his truck was full and her room was cleared out, she followed him downtown in her car. She was a little shell-shocked that mere hours earlier she’d had no plans for the day and now she was moving into her new apartment, but it felt good.

This was her spring.