A Second Bite at the Apple by Dana Bate

Author:Dana Bate [Bate, Dana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2014-10-09T16:00:00+00:00

No more than two hours after I get off the phone, I change my mind. Of course it could be worse than having Jeremy fall in the Tidal Basin. I could scald myself or ruin his beer recipe or spill his prized eighteen-month red ale all over the floor. But worse than any of those possibilities—worse than spilling boiling liquid all over myself—is the prospect of falling for him.

Sure, he makes me laugh and makes me happy, but every time I type his name into Google, I’m given 1,256,789 reasons why I have clearly lost my mind. I don’t want to judge him, but it’s so easy. All of his mistakes, all of his transgressions, they’re at my fingertips, with a few strokes of my keyboard. Some days I wish I could hide from all this history, but I can’t. His past is just so . . . available.

By the time Saturday arrives, I am downright stressed about the evening of beer making and awkwardness that awaits me. But despite the voice in my head telling me to stay away from Jeremy, I can’t bring myself to cancel. I am, quite clearly, my own worst enemy.

Just as I am about to make what is surely a poor wardrobe choice, my mom calls. I’ve tried her a few times over the past week, ever since I spoke to my dad, but she never picked up and, uncharacteristically, never called back—until now, exactly forty minutes before I’m supposed to leave for Jeremy’s apartment.

“I was beginning to worry about you,” I say, holding up a taupe cardigan as I look at myself in my full-length mirror.

“Worry? Oh, please. You have nothing to worry about. Worrying is a mother’s job.”

“Speaking of jobs,” I say, discarding the taupe cardigan and grabbing another top from my closet, “how’s the job search going? Dad mentioned you’d run into a little trouble.”

“Trouble doesn’t begin to describe it.”

“What’s the deal?”

“There is no deal. There isn’t anything. Nada. Zip. The Williams-Sonoma by us doesn’t have any openings. Neither does the one downtown. I’m checking with the one at King of Prussia, but I’m not holding my breath.”

“Have you checked out Sur La Table? Or the home section of one of the department stores?”

“Oh, that’s just what I need. To wait on all of my friends at Macy’s.”

“So what? You guys need the money, right?”

“There are jobs, and then there are jobs.”

“You’re talking to a girl who is working at a farm stand so that she can chase her dream job.”

“That’s different.”

“Oh, yeah? How? Last I checked, Libby wanted you to spend two thousand bucks on chairs. Where’s that money coming from?”

She sighs. “You and your father are all burned up about those chairs. Poor Libby.”

“Poor Libby?” Classic. My mom always takes Libby’s side. When Libby got a bad grade on an exam or paper, my mom would claim the teacher was incompetent, even when I’d had the same teachers and had aced their classes. When Libby’s field hockey tournament was

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