13
Dating Advice
DEFINITION: The act of another person trying to help improve your sorry, sorry excuse for game.
COROLLARY EMOTIONS: Pity, shame, total abject despair.
“It’s a mask,” Maddie said dismissively, elbowing Norris’s phone out of her way. “Move, Canada.”
“I know it’s a mask—I’m asking what you think the mask represents,” Norris grumbled. Over the past few days, Norris and Aarti had entered into a loose texting exchange leading up to their date, which happened to be tonight. It was a neutral platform that let Norris into a whole new side of her. He learned that she used lol fairly often, but Norris would occasionally get a hahah out of her and that extra h felt like genuine laughter. He imagined Aarti sitting on her bed somewhere across the greater Austin area, holding her phone with both hands and giggling at his weird observations about the school.
The closer he got to their actual date, the more compelled he felt to reread their stream of exchanges, trying to pinpoint some added bit of insight he might have missed the first time.
“Sounds like a valid question for a therapist.”
“I should let you deal with this mess alone,” Norris muttered, nodding over to the crates.
“We have a deal,” Maddie reminded him with all the compassion of a repo agent to a carful of tiny orphans.
“Our deal involves you providing emotional and technical support in dealing with all this Aarti stuff!”
“Oh my God, it’s just an emoji,” Maddie said distractedly. “She obviously likes you, so tone down the crazy and you’ll be fine.”
She was clearly more focused on the crates of lightbulbs she was carrying than on deciphering what was, to Norris, the useless, more cryptic cousin of the hieroglyph. Why couldn’t people just use words all the time?
“I’m just wondering if it meant something all along.”
“It didn’t.”
“Also, should I feel weird that she’s the one picking me up tonight?”
“You should feel weird about not having a car living in Austin,” Maddie said, and Norris could hear the smile in her voice even though her face was currently obstructed. “Picking up a guy at a steaming bus stop isn’t as romantic as you think.”
“Well, I don’t have a car, okay!” Norris began to sputter, hearing his voice pitch higher. “Not everyone can just borrow their dad’s Rolls. That’s discrimination, Madison. Discrimination against pedestrians!”
“Oh my God, I’m kidding!” Maddie threw him a pitiful look. “Look, take it from a bitchy cheerleader,” she said, patting his shoulder. “What you’re doing with Aarti is working. We save the mind games for people we actually like. Her texting you at random intervals, adding weird emojis to your exchanges, that’s all her version of pulling your pigtails. She likes you. Breathe. Now please help me with these lights before you go, or I will throw one at your head.”
No fewer than twelve crates of lightbulbs had been set out on the Bone Yard tables. Big Jim took these lights very seriously; all had previously been packed with military precision. Every conceivable form of electric illumination known to man was represented—Edison bulbs, café globes, tiny LEDs, and curtains of icicle lights—plus, a few token boxes of standard string lights that seemed too generic in this insane assortment. It had taken a lot longer than expected, but eventually, all the lights had been unboxed, untangled, and were now being arranged across the back of the Bone Yard’s seating area.
Norris ran the lights, passing the cords to Maddie, who looped them over hooks and wrapped them into loose knots to avoid cutting the current when the time came.
“What is this for, again?”
“My sister’s getting married soon, and we’re busting out all our holiday lights for the occasion.” She sighed. “It’s ridiculously early to be setting up, but in the unlikely event that, like, one of the approximately million lights is out, Dad wants to know.”
“Does Austin have a citywide blackout every time a McElwees ties the knot?” Because, really, it was a ridiculous number of lights. Norris’s arms were killing him, but even if they didn’t have a deal, he would feel horrible leaving a coworker to deal with installing all of these by themselves.
“If Dad got his way, they’d probably strobe in time with the wedding march whenever one of his children got married,” she laughed, climbing down from the ladder. “Okay, kill the lights in the kitchen. I’ve got the overheads. Ready?”
“Ready for . . . ?”
“This,” Maddie announced, and flipped a switch.
And in an instant, the Bone Yard completely disappeared behind a wall of stars. The lights ran floor to ceiling; some of them faded gently in and out, while others threw a soft, steady glow. Still, it was an obscene amount of electrical voltage that turned the place into a fairy-tale wonderland. If there was a PETA for energy consumption, they’d definitely be on the receiving end of some red paint right now.
And in the middle of it all stood Maddie, shining almost as brightly. “It’s cheesy,” she breathed. “But I love this place when it’s like this.”
“Definitely the nicest fire hazard I’ve ever seen,” he agreed.
Norris had to admit there was a definite appeal to it all. The whole place looked like a postcard. He pretended to examine some lights so she wouldn’t catch him staring too hard.
“Oh hush, Canada. It’s going to be beautiful.”
“Is this a big deal for your parents, then? A bird flying out of the nest, as it were?”
“Everything is a big deal for my family. Mostly because my family is big. Holidays, weddings, christenings . . . A McElwees celebration is considered incomplete if there are less than twenty family members present. And forget about booking a hotel: that’s a grave insult, on par with not complimenting Aunt June’s potato salad.” Maddie inspected the lights, jotting notes on her legal pad.
“I shudder to consider the consequences of that oversight,” Norris drawled.
“We have more than our fair share of eccentrics, but I freaking love my family, y’know?”
I miss my dad, Norris thought in spite of himself. Luckily, his mouth managed to remain shut in the moment. Maddie didn’t need to know about that stuff.
“I know, I know, I’m boring as hell. Whatever, Canada. I still can’t imagine living far away from here and missing out on things like this,” she admitted.
“You get used to it,” Norris said without thinking, which earned him a look but, fortunately, no comment.
“. . . I just meant that, um, leaving Montreal sort of felt like that.”
“I’m sorry,” she said sympathetically, and Norris thought it best to leave it at that.
As they packed up the empty crates, taking the extra care to turn off the proper fuse-box switches so as to not blind the entire restaurant should a kid accidentally turn on the lights, Maddie told Norris all about her sister, her future brother-in-law, and the various branches of House McElwees. Big Jim and his daughters, of which Maddie was the youngest, were at the center of an insane family tree. There was Aunt June’s (in)famous potato salad; Cousin Ricky, who had been struck by lightning three times; Gallow, the family dog who’d swallowed two different rings on two different instances and was now banned from being in the official wedding party; and Great-Uncle Oscar, who still wore his army uniform to formal and informal occasions alike. A few odd cousins had spread beyond the confines of the state, but for the most part, the McElweeses were rooted Texans, generational occupants. They would all be in attendance at the wedding. Maddie was nervous about her bridesmaid speech, and everyone was nervous about Pastor John’s stutter. The hors d’oeuvres were so good that Maddie always snuck away a tray.
They finally put away the last box of lights and, almost in unison, checked their phones. What was supposed to be a loose pre-date evening, researching fascinating facts to casually drop in mid-date with Aarti had turned into a quick two-hour shift at the Bone Yard because, Maddie. The entire back of the restaurant had even been closed off during prime dining-out hours because as Norris was learning, marriage was very serious business here.
“She’s running late,” Norris noted, checking his watch and then the giant wooden clock behind the restaurant’s bar, just in case one of the two wasn’t working at the moment.
Maddie hopped onto the counter, phone in hand as always.
“Good,” she said. “Gives us time to review. Ask a lot of questions. When you get too into your head, do something to get out of it. Seriously, padawan, I’m not training a Jedi who is going to invite his girlfriend to come watch him play video games someday.”
“Not my girlfriend yet . . .” Norris mumbled, unfolding his apron.
“Baby steps,” Maddie said, picking a stray piece of lint off his shoulder for him. “Be confident, but not pushy. Open doors for her, only yes means yes, like all those pamphlets and flyers they’ve been shoving under our eyes since the third grade, even in Canada, I assume—remember them. Oh, and pay for everything.”
“But what if she—”
“—even if she already offered to split it, yes,” Maddie preempted. “It gives the date a little something extra, to quote the great Elle Woods. It’s a movie ticket and dinner; you can afford it, you cheapskate.”
“Gee,” Norris said flatly, feeling his nerves act up again. “Any notes on my outfit, while you’re at it?”
“Oh my God! So many notes,” she laughed. “What’s with all the black T-shirt and jeans combos? I get the minimalist appeal, but after two months, you’re really pushing ‘classic’ to its limit.”
“I was kidding.”
“I know, but I’ve had that one in the chamber since the moment I met you.” Maddie smirked as she gave him a look-over. Norris realized that she hadn’t checked her phone in ages.
“Aarti’s all about fashion anyway. Your makeover is coming the second the two of you are official.”
“What are you doing tonight, anyway?” Norris asked.
“I have a date with Meredith and Patrick.”
“Oh,” Norris said. It hadn’t taken long for him to learn that Meredith—dreaded head cheerleader Meredith—and Patrick—he of Hairy Armpits fame—were actually a couple. They were perfect for each other, in Norris’s view. “That sounds . . . kinky and unchristian?”
“Ew, no. What’s wrong with you?”
Norris only shrugged, throwing another look at the Bone Yard’s parking lot through the blinds-down glass door. He liked hanging out with Maddie, but at the moment what was wrong with him was the prospect of being stood up and having a cheerleader as audience to it all—even if it was just Maddie.
“Mer is telling her parents she’s hanging out with me, so we’re going to be watching movies upstairs together. That way she’s not lying to her parents. Meredith’s parents aren’t too keen on her dating Patrick. . . .”
“Austin’s local car hood–shitter? No kidding.”
“He was drunk.”
Norris just gave her a look.
“Okay, yes, that incident was pretty gross—but Patrick might surprise you. He’s occasionally really sweet. He was a big teddy bear when we dated.”
“Wait, wait, wait, wait—you guys dated?! You and Patrick?! Patrick and you? Ma-trick? Pat-ison?” Norris laughed. “I can’t picture it.”
“I was still stuffing my bra,” Maddie said. “I wouldn’t exactly call that a love affair for the ages, but . . .”
Her face took on a wistful quality.
“One time, I remember tumbling off into the rafters at an awful exhibition night event for new recruits. Right into the old football coach, the poor guy. I didn’t actually make the squad until my third try, y’know? But anyway, people would not stop laughing. I was mortified and about to burst into tears. In front of the entire fifth and sixth grades. Like, I would have never lived it down, you don’t even know. But Patrick started this Maddie chant. ‘Maddie, Maddie, Maddie!’”
“And people actually joined?”
“Oh, people will join any chant if you pitch it right.” She grinned. “Anyway, I had hurt my ankle in the fall and thought I would be on the sidelines all night for this Bats Bonanza thing, but Pat picked me up and gave me a piggyback ride the entire evening. He said he was the luckiest guy in all of Texas. He had just gotten his linebacker growth spurt.” She smiled to herself. “That first gigantic, overwhelming crush. It’s a heck of a thing, huh?”
Norris didn’t feel the need to add anything, but he could relate. He might never actually forget the smell of his first crush, Anne Marie Villeneuve’s, hair. He had often hung around the water fountain near her locker, hoping for a glimpse of her.
“He’s only ever been a throbbing asshole to me.”
“You can’t always see people well through other’s eyes, Canada,” she added after a laugh. “Who they are when there are other people around isn’t who they are when they’re alone.”
She then widened her eyes dramatically at him. “Exhibit A.”
“Oh, so I’m Exhibit A?” Norris exclaimed, bringing an outraged hand to his chest.
“To some people.” She smiled. “The dickish Canadian guy with a chip on his shoulder.”
She was definitely talking about Meredith’s opinion of Norris. Maddie’s best friend had perfected the art of rolling her eyes in annoyance at Norris’s very presence, and truth be told, he was quite proud of his ability to grin and compliment her on whatever item seemed to be giving her the most insecurities at the moment.
“So,” Norris pressed. “Why did you and Patrick break up if he was such a charmer, anyway?”
“Meredith really liked him.” She shrugged.
“Um, what?”
Going by her tone, Maddie apparently thought that those four words made a full story.
“So, you just . . . what? Stepped aside?”
“More or less.”
Her voice had changed, nearly imperceptibly, into a tone he hadn’t heard from her yet. It was gone again in an instant, but it prompted his next question.
“Wait. When did that happen, again?”
“Hmm.” Maddie pondered. “Last year . . . give or take a month.”
“What?!” Norris’s outrage surprised him. “And they started dating, like, right under your nose?”
“Oh no. Meredith felt horrible about it. It took a few weeks for her to believe I was actually okay with it.”
“I don’t know if that makes you a saint or a martyr.”
“It’s fine, Canada. Guys are a dime a dozen.” Maddie shrugged. “Best friends aren’t. It’s not like Patrick and I were ever going to get married or anything.”
“Yeah, but still, that’s your best friend and your boyfriend. Jesus, dude.”
Norris couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to walk in on Aarti making out with Eric, if Eric was straight, obviously. He was pretty sure it ended with him sobbing under an overpass in the rain like one of those Super Bowl puppy commercials.
The thing about Maddie was that for all the balls she always seemed to be juggling—the restaurant, the cheerleading squad, Norris himself, really—she seemed to take the back seat in her own life. Norris had stopped wondering where she found the time to do anything else when he realized that maybe she didn’t do anything else. She was the opposite of Norris with his very healthy focus on his own life.
“Can you drop it, Norris?” she insisted. “I’m fine. Really.”
She smiled, almost sadly. Norris thought about how exhausting it might be. To always be the peacekeeper, the good sister, the obedient daughter . . . At first he’d assumed Maddie went to the top of the pyramid, but he’d been wrong. Now he saw it. Maddie had to be in the middle of the pyramid because she was the only one who could hold it all together.
A set of car lights suddenly lit up the front of the restaurant.
“That would be your date,” Maddie said, sounding relieved to get rid of him.
Even the rhythmic honk brought a smile to Norris’s lips. Aarti would never not make an entrance a day in her life.
Overture, curtain, lights, then.
“Um, have a nice night, Maddie, okay?” Norris said before pushing open the door.
“You too, Canada,” Maddie said.