Ashley Elston - 10 Blind Dates

Beyond terrified. Living Nativity? At a middle school?

“The date is supposed to be with someone my age, Nonna! If she set me up with a middle schooler, that’s an automatic forfeit for her.”

Nonna is wiping down the counter on the other side of the kitchen. “Oh, I’m sure he’s old enough, Soph. Patrice understands the rules.”

Olivia disappeared inside the laundry room as soon as she finished reading Aunt Patrice’s note, and her squeals of laughter make me want to run and hide. Finally, she comes back to the kitchen carrying what looks like a wadded-up piece of fabric.

“Are you ready for this?” she asks.

“No.”

She holds the hanger up high, letting the fabric unfurl.

“What in the world is that?” Nonna asks as she moves closer to it.

“It’s a robe. I think Sophie is going to be a part of the Living Nativity,” she says, pointing to the note pinned to the top that says: Mary, mother of Jesus. “And it looks like she’s got a starring role!”

The sun is barely up when Olivia and I get to the shop. With only four more shopping days until Christmas, today is going to be a nightmare.

Since Olivia has worked here for a while, she handles helping customers looking for a last-minute gift while I’m stuck at the register. Nonna has put together quite a few gift baskets that include small potted flowers, plants or herbs, books on gardening, small tools like shears and spades, and other cute gardening things. She can’t make them fast enough.

During my midmorning break, I hide in the kitchen just to get away from all of the people. I kick back on the small couch that is older than me and text Margot.

ME: I’ve only got 10 mins before Nonna chains me back to the register at the shop so if you’re going to send me any gross pictures, do it now.

Margot sends me a close-up of her face. I haven’t seen her in a while and I’m surprised by how different she looks.

MARGOT: My face is swollen. Especially my nose. My nose is huge. Like, it’s the biggest nose I’ve ever seen

ME: You’re better than birth control. If there was even a chance I was going to be having sex anytime soon you’ve completely scared me off.

MARGOT: Good! Mom keeps saying I’ll forget how bad this part is but I’m telling you — I WILL NEVER FORGET THIS NOSE

ME: So what does your doctor say? Is this normal?

I’ve been trying to keep things light with Margot ever since she got put on bed rest, but I can’t stop the lick of fear that blindsides me every time she sends me a picture.

MARGOT: It’s not abnormal. And they’re watching me closely. I have another appointment this afternoon. Don’t worry about me. Worry about who Aunt Patrice is going to set you up with.

ME: Did you hear what I have to wear?????

MARGOT: Haha. Yes. Mom talked to Nonna this morning. I definitely need a picture of that. And the date. Instead of Mary they may have to call you Mrs. Robinson.

ME: Who’s Mrs. Robinson?

MARGOT: Ugh. Now I feel old. Google it.

ME: Ok whatever gotta get back to work. Text me after the doctor’s appt.

Charlie and Wes come into the kitchen carrying snacks and drinks to refill the old refrigerator. Nonna has them doing odd jobs — or as she likes to put it, “doing all the crap no one else wants to do.” Next on their agenda is changing lightbulbs and air filters, so I really can’t complain about being stuck behind the register.

“Are you researching hairstyles of the early Bethlehem period?” Charlie asks. I throw a magazine at him.

“You’re hilarious,” I say, and snag a Coke Zero from the box.

Wes tosses me a package of Nutter Butters, which happen to be my favorite cookie. “You know we’re going to have to be there when you get picked up for your hot date. There’s no way we’re missing this.”

“If y’all really loved me, you’d feel sorry for me and offer to work my shift for the rest of the day.” I give what I hope are really pathetic puppy-dog eyes.

Charlie and Wes look at each other a few seconds like they’re considering it. Then they both say, “Nah!”

Charlie drops down beside me. “Hey, while you’re on break…” He whips his phone out of his back pocket, pulls up something on the screen, then shoves it at me. “I need you to take this quiz.”

Wes groans. “Seriously? We’re doing this again?”

I stare at the screen, which reads, “Which Character from The Office Are You?” then look to Wes for clarification. He drags a chair away from the small table and sets it next to the couch, then takes a seat. “You know Charlie is obsessed with The Office. He’s watched the whole series like twice by now.”

“Three times, actually,” Olivia says when she comes into the room. “Is he making her take the quiz?”

Wes nods, and I look back at Charlie’s phone. I sort of remember Charlie liking this show, but I definitely wasn’t aware it had moved to this level.

“So why am I taking this quiz?” I ask.

Wes opens his mouth to speak, but Charlie throws a hand up and shushes him. “Let her take it first.”

So I get busy. The multiple-choice questions are kind of weird. What kind of paper do I like? What’s my favorite condiment? And on and on.

“Okay, I’m done. It’s calculating my results.”

“You probably got Erin. Or Kelly,” Wes says. “Or maybe even Pam.”

“Would that be good?” I ask.

Wes smiles and nods. “Yeah, they’re cool.”

“Who’d you get?” I ask Charlie.

Wes’s mouth twists, and he looks at Olivia. They both bust out laughing.

“It’s not funny,” Charlie says.

I don’t get it. And I can’t believe how much I hate that I don’t get it. But then I remember this is what it was like the last several times we were together — always some inside joke from school or a club that I wasn’t in on.

Olivia finally explains. “Charlie has taken every quiz ever made with the sole hope of getting Jim because Jim is the coolest guy on the show. Everyone loves Jim.”

She’s giggling so hard she can’t speak, so Wes finishes for her. “But he gets Dwight. Every time.”

“I’ve even answered every question purposefully wrong and I still get him!” Charlie yells. He points to Wes. “He’s rigged it somehow!”

I look at Wes. “And let me guess. You get Jim?”

He nods. “Yep.”

I look down at the phone, where the results have loaded, and say, “I got Carol Stills, the real estate agent.”

Now all three of them are staring at me.

“What? Is that bad?” I ask.

Olivia finally looks away from me to Charlie. “Who’s Carol?”

Charlie looks surprised. “She was the woman who Michael dated a little while. She wasn’t on many episodes. Maybe five?”

My forehead scrunches. “How many episodes are there?”

“Two hundred and one,” they all answer at the same time.

It’s like the world is trying to make sure I remember I’m the outsider here. I roll my eyes and say, “I gotta get back to the register. See y’all out there.” I don’t even wait for their reply before I leave the room.

“I’m using the ‘get out of date free’ card,” I say as I take one final turn in the mirror. As expected, Olivia and Charlie are on the floor laughing. Literally rolling around on the floor. Wes at least has the decency to stay upright while he dissolves into hysterics. After the weirdness at the shop, I want to be annoyed at them, but it’s hard when I’m distracted by my growing horror at this upcoming date.

Since I have three different layers on (regular clothes, some tunic-looking thing, and then the robe), I’m burning up. And itchy. And the musty smell tells me this thing hasn’t seen the light of day since last Christmas.

“But what about the Evil Joes’ date?” Olivia says. My hands are still on the belt I’d started unwrapping. “Or Aunt Maggie Mae? I would totally save the pass for one of those.”

“No telling what the Evil Joes have in store for you,” Charlie says, then shudders. “Save the pass.”

“You think it’s going to be worse than that?” Wes asks Olivia and Charlie, pointing at me.

Olivia cocks her head to the side. “I think tonight will be weird but harmless. I would be more worried about the Evil Joes, too.”

Charlie nods in agreement. “Evil Joes are evil.”

I throw my hands up in the air. “Have you taken a good look at what I’m wearing? The possibilities of how tonight can go horribly wrong are endless!”

“How about we come rescue you? Nonna said you had to go out on the dates — she didn’t say you had to stay the whole time,” Olivia adds.

I stare at them with what I hope is a menacing expression. “Do you all swear to come get me?”

Olivia says, “Yes.”

Charlie looks up toward the ceiling, his finger tapping his chin. “I don’t know. That would be really going against the spirit of the game, Sophie. Especially after Aunt Patrice has gone to such lengths to take your personal interests and likes into account when she planned this very thoughtful date.”

I throw my shoe at him. Turning to Wes, I say, “You’ll come get me, right?”

He shrugs and says in a quiet voice, “I can’t help you tonight. I have plans.”

Of course he does. I shouldn’t have forgotten he’s got a girlfriend.

“Oh yeah. With Laurel?”

Charlie turns to Wes, one eyebrow cocked. “Dude, really?”