Exposed. Zoey Williams
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on her knees and steepling her fingers. “Mace,” she says dramatically. “This is an intervention.”
I look around at the candles and then back at Dani, hoping she’ll provide some answers.
She leans in and whispers, “Jazz kinda got confused between an intervention and a séance. Just go with it.”
I burst out laughing. I wonder if Jasmine’s been sampling her wares more than usual lately.
“An intervention? Jazz, I don’t suffer from any addictions. I barely have any vices. Last time I checked, you were the party girl.”
“Hey! I was a party girl, too,” Dani pouts. “You know, before this happened.” She points to her stomach. A sliver of her dark skin peeks out between the top of her stretchy maternity pants and the bottom of her flowy blouse.
“Don’t you see? That’s the problem. I love you and I think it’s time you loosened up a little bit.”
“What are you talking about? I am loose. Here I am about to have some dinner, watch a part of a movie and relax.”
“Macy, there’s another part of you that I’m concerned isn’t loose enough.” Her eye line goes to my crotch. “I’m talking about your vajean.”
“What?”
Jasmine reaches behind one of the pillows on the couch and removes a plastic bag. A plastic bag that has been stuffed in the back of the first drawer of my dresser for years.
“Hey!” I say.
“Exhibit A,” she pronounces a little too loudly, dumping out the contents of the bag on my coffee table and pointing her finger accusatorily at a heap of lace and chiffon. She extracts something I vaguely recognize from the pile and twirls it around her pointer finger. I then realize what’s spinning around and around is a pair of long-forgotten lacy underwear. “Behold all of your lingerie.” She tosses the pair of panties back on the coffee table with the others. “Underwear, bras, teddies. All of them still have the tags on them.”
“Exhibit B,” Ella joins in, pulling a small box from behind her on the couch. What is this, a magic show? “The vibrator I got you for your twenty-fifth birthday, Frank.”
“You named my vibrator?”
“You don’t remember that? We named him Frank, like a hot dog. Get it?”
The memory comes back to me. “Ah, yes, you’re right.” Between all of the margaritas, the fuzzy memory of us giggling over the pun comes back to me. And then I remember shoving Frank into the back of my pajama drawer and forgetting all about him.
“And lastly, the most terrifying piece of evidence of all,” Jasmine says forlornly. “Your calendar.”
She flips open the glossy wall calendar, every page as pristinely white and blank as the day I purchased it.
“Is this an intervention or a trial?” I ask.
“All I’m saying is that you take way too many Facebook quizzes for a woman in your age bracket. You just took one called ‘Which donut are you?’”
I press my lips into a tight line because I can’t argue against that. It’s true.
“Ugh, that sounds amazing,” Daniella says wonderingly. “Which donut were you, by the way?”
“French cruller.” I sigh.
“The most single of all the donuts,” Jazzy comments.
“Shut up.”
Jasmine holds hands with me and Daniella. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the death of a dear friend...”
“That’s not how it goes,” I say. “You just combined what a priest says during a wedding and a funeral.”
“...Macy Grant’s ladybits,” she finishes. “We barely knew ye. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death—”
“Yeah, I got it loud and clear, Jazz.” I roll my eyes. “You think I’m a pathetic single person. Where is this all coming from?”
“You know how I thought for a long time that monogamy wasn’t for me? Well, I’ve met someone and she’s wonderful, and now that I’ve found what Daniella and Mark have found—”
“Hey, hey—slow your roll. You’re not married with two little cage fighters in your uterus,” Daniella laughs. “You sleep with anything on two legs. So you found a new hookup—”
“First of all, that’s not true. I’ve never slept with a kangaroo and I once dated a one-legged chick. Secondly,” Jazz insists, “this woman’s the real thing. She’s my soul mate.” A dreamy, goofy smile develops on her face. I feel like tiny blue cartoon birdies could start flying around her head any minute now.
“If she’s so important to you, why is this the first time we’re hearing about her?” I ask.
“She hasn’t exactly...come out yet.” Jasmine’s eyes dart to the floor, but then snap up to meet mine.
Ella and I both give her a look. Jasmine has dated closeted women in the past and we all know how great that ends up.
“I know what you two are thinking,” she says. “But she will. It’s coming soon—she promised me!”
“I can’t imagine anyone being able to get you to settle down,” Ella chuckles. She must be pretty special.”
“She is,” Jazz says, her cheeks flushing in a way I’ve never seen before. “And don’t pretend that you weren’t a wild child before you met Mark,” Jazzy scoffs. “You slept with so many dudes, when your mother sat you down to have the talk freshman year, you asked her what she wanted to know.”
Daniella opens her mouth to speak, then closes it.
“Anyway, I just want you to have what the two of us have, you know? I didn’t want to have to do this, but...” Jazz removes a folded piece of paper from the breast pocket of her suit jacket like a slick lawyer presenting some damning evidence.
She clears her throat. “Ahem. Macy, your singleness has affected me in the following ways—”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I grouse. “This is silly, Jazz.”
“Macy your singleness has affected me in the following ways,” Daniella starts then puts her piece of paper down. “Actually, it hasn’t really affected me, Mace. I like you the way you are and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Ella!” Jasmine whines indignantly. “That’s not part of the plan!” she stage whispers.
“I wasn’t finished yet,” Daniella laughs. “We just see how hard you’ve been working lately and how if you don’t get out there soon the only thing you’ll be married to in the near future is your job. Though you don’t have to go along with Jasmine’s plan, it would be nice. You’ve been such a good friend to us. I know any man would be lucky to have you—” She shoots a playful glance at Jasmine. “—if only for your incredible amount of patience. You deserve somebody special.” Daniella scoots over so that there’s a space between her and Jasmine. I sit between them and they each take one of my hands.
“This is coming from a place of love. You’re our best friend and we only want what’s best for you,” Daniella says. “We know how amazing you are and just want you to find someone who sees that, too.”
“And the only way to do that is to get out there.”
“We’ll be your dating gurus!” Jasmine exclaims brightly. “I have a great person to set you up with. A client of mine. I think you two could really hit it off!”
I love my friend, but I’m downright scared to find out who Jasmine—who once dated a girl who carried around pictures of her rabbit