Winner Takes All. Cheryl Harper
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Brian’s loss,” Rebecca said. She eased down beside Stephanie and fluffed her ruffled apron over the sundress she’d worn to celebrate the last day of school. Rebecca offered Stephanie a plate of chocolate chip cookies. “You did the right thing. It’s not bad to be such a good friend.”
“But he was my date.” Stephanie took a cookie in each hand and glumly bit into one of them. “The dating service was supposed to change this talent I have for converting every romantic possibility into another guy who values my advice.” She’d signed up believing she needed to broaden her horizons, get out of Holly Heights. Apparently her skill had nothing to do with the city limits.
“Some people can add ridiculously large sums in their heads. Others can play concertos without sheet music. You can make a friend out of anyone. That’s handy, right? People depend on you.” Rebecca nodded encouragingly as she passed the plate to Jen, the third of the Holy Horrors. Rebecca’s older brother had given them that name the first summer they’d dogged his footsteps.
Stephanie took a bite of the cookie in her left hand to stop herself from rolling her eyes in response.
Jen snorted. Of the three of them, she was most likely to call it like she saw it and let the chips fall where they may. “You should take a film crew on your next date. Then we can evaluate your skills, do some careful study of how you keep doing this.”
“Great idea. Wish we’d thought of it years ago. We could even do an educational video for people like me.” If there were any others who managed to convert chemistry to camaraderie with a hardly perceptible fizzle.
“Enough of Brian and his baggage.” Jen shook her head, her dark hair swinging thanks to the asymmetrical bob. “He was safe. So was the last guy... What was his name? Andrew? And the one before him and the one before that. It’s like they’re all beige. Not a single one stands out. I’m starting to think that’s why you like them.”
That was hard to argue with. “Safe is good. Boring but good.” Her mother might not have said it in exactly the same way, but there was no doubt where Stephanie had picked up that philosophy.
“We aren’t going to challenge you there,” Rebecca said. “What Holly Heights lacks in excitement, it certainly makes up for in predictability.” She pointed at each of them in their usual spots in her living room. Jen was sprawled across an armchair wiggling one foot with nervous energy, and Stephanie was curled up on the couch. With a cookie in each hand. “But it doesn’t seem like safe makes you happy lately.”
“I thought searching outside Holly Heights would work. Here there’s no mystery, none of that anticipation. Maybe I need to try... I don’t know...rodeo clowns or stuntmen or...” She couldn’t even think of a third crazy example. How depressing.
But she could easily imagine her mother’s wrinkled brow if she ever managed to track down a stuntman and bring him home to dinner.
“Forget him. Forget that. Focus on what you want out of life and go after it.” Jen waved a hand. “If we’re done with Brian, let’s move on. I have news.”
Her bright eyes darted over to Rebecca, who smiled and clapped. Stephanie wondered whether she was the only one in the room who didn’t know...whatever it was...because she’d launched into her dating woes.
As she finished her first cookie, Stephanie agreed. “Of course. You’re right. I’m being overdramatic. Men aren’t the answer. Living the life I want is. All I have to do is figure out how.” And wait until everyone who knows me has moved away so I don’t kill them with the shock of refusing to run the Christmas parade or the back-to-school supplies drive.
Yates men and women were known for their civic pride and unwavering service to Holly Heights. Admitting that she’d rather have a root canal than shovel up the road apples after the parade horses passed by would seem completely out of character. Bringing a rodeo clown to dinner might necessitate an intervention.
Jen patted her leg. “Cheer up. It’s the last day of school. Got our lottery ticket right here. You were voted Favorite Teacher at Holly Heights for the third year in a row.”
“No, I tied for Favorite Teacher. Again. How is that even possible? How can a vote like this turn into a tie for three years in a row?” She and Rebecca turned to Jen. “You’re the math teacher. Got any idea how that might happen?”
“None. I’d suspect someone was tampering with the vote, but this is a popularity contest and not a real election.” Jen smoothed her hair behind her ear as she stretched forward to pour wine into three glasses. “Haven’t you won enough popularity contests—Class President, Best Dressed and Miss Congeniality? Even Rebecca, the most supportive person in history, is getting tired of clapping.”
Rebecca was sending death glares at Jen, despite her Suzy Homemaker apron with its cheery sunflowers. But then Rebecca smiled sweetly and patted Stephanie’s hand. “Ignore her. Jealousy. I’ll clap for you until my hands fall off.”
Jen snorted and they all three laughed. Stephanie had to admit Jen had a point. She could let this contest go. Tying was almost as good as winning.
Said the eternal best friend.
Even in her own mind she was the spunky sidekick instead of the star of the show.
“Switch places with me.” Stephanie stood up and tugged Jen’s hand.
“What? Why? This is my spot. I like my spot.” Jen grumbled and moved over to sprawl on the couch. “Ugh. How uncomfortable.”
Rebecca poked Jen. “Get a grip. A change in outlook could do you both some good.”
Stephanie pretended to whistle innocently as Rebecca raised an eyebrow at her. The message was loud and clear.
Stephanie stared up at the unfamiliar patch of ceiling over Jen’s usual chair. Nothing was any clearer on this side of the room. “A good job, a nice family, the best friends in the world—why can’t I be happy with that?” Most of the people in Holly Heights chose to live there because of its easy distance to Austin and the benefits of small-town community. Her mother was content. Even Jen and Rebecca were cheerfully anticipating the summer.
“You’re bringing me down. We are officially on vacation, and this is going to be a summer like no other.” Rebecca clapped her hands but stopped and fiddled with her apron when Jen gave her the warning look.
Jen slid their lottery ticket across the coffee table. “There’s always next year for Favorite Teacher. Eventually Ms. Diaz will set aside her periodic table and retire so all you have to do is outlast her. Things are looking up for us.” She picked up her wineglass and raised it. With her sleek haircut, layers of thrift-store chic, tall boots and the rakish tilt of her chin to accompany her raised glass, Jen was a cross between a fashion model and a swashbuckler prepared to take on the world. Actually, the description fit Jen pretty well. “We need a toast.” Jen waited patiently for the other two to raise their glasses. “To possibilities, taking chances and a long summer.”
“And to friends who remind us what’s important,” Rebecca added.
“Vacation!” Stephanie said. They clinked glasses and each one took a sip of good wine.
Rebecca picked up the ticket and closed one eye to read the print. Did she need glasses? Yes. Would she wear them? No. “You changed the numbers.”
“I did,” Jen answered in a singsong voice. “I let the machine pick this time. Roll the dice. Trust the universe. Et cetera and so forth. What could it hurt?”
“Have you checked the winning numbers yet?” Stephanie shoved the seductive plate of cookies farther away while she wondered what was up with Jen. She never did a sing-song anything.
“If we’re winners, what will you spend your share on?” Jen crossed one long leg over the other. The secondhand boots she’d rescued looked fabulous on her bouncing foot. “Other than paying off student loans and buying a car with windows