Her Heart's Desire

“Hey, Lani, what’s up?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. Why’d you agree to go out on a blind date after telling me four times that you weren’t taking Jeannie up on her offer to fix you up?”

“Huh? I never said I’d go out with anyone.”

“Oh, you sure did,” her friend countered. “Tonight at Rajun Cajun. You said you’d go out with Gardiniér this Saturday.”

“What?” Tiffany exclaimed. “Who’s Gardiniér? I didn’t know that’s what I was agreeing to. I thought she’d asked me about…well, I don’t know what, but certainly not a date. Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Me? How was I to know you hadn’t changed your mind?”

Tiffany leaned back on the couch. “Is that his first or last name?”

“Uh, I think it’s his first.”

“That’s his real name? This is a disaster.”

“Don’t I know it,” Milán agreed. “Tell her you had no idea what she asked you. What had you so spaced out, anyway?”

“Ivan and his girlfriend, Debra,” Tiffany blurted out before she could stop herself.

“He has a girlfriend? How did the Love Broker miss that?”

“It’s not important,” Tiffany hedged.

“Apparently it is if you’re so out of sorts. Are you sure?”

“Yes. I overheard him this evening when I went back to get my phone. Her name is Debra, and apparently she needs him desperately,” Tiffany stressed, and then realized she sounded catty.

“Well, that sucks. I’m sorry, Tiff.”

“Me, too. Enough about Ivan Mangum. Let’s forget it, and I’m not taking Norma Jean up on her offer.”

Milán choked on whatever she was drinking. “You aren’t? How are you getting out of it?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”

“Good, then you can come over Saturday for movie night with me and Adrian.”

“Thanks for the invite, but I think I’ll pass. You guys have fun. I’ve got to call Jeannie now and get it over with.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.” She hung up, then dialed Norma Jean. She hoped to get voice mail, but no such luck.

“Hi, Ms. Jeannie. How are you?”

“Just fine, honey. Trying to keep my husband from cheating in Scrabble. I’ve got to challenge every word he puts down. Get the dictionary, Cliff,” Norma Jean said distractedly. “No, moarting is not a word.”

“Um, the reason I called is that I…I can’t make the date this Saturday,” Tiffany said quickly. “I wasn’t paying attention when you mentioned it, and I’ve got plans.”

“Oh. Poor Gardiniér. He’ll be disappointed.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Jeannie. Thanks again for understanding,” Tiffany said.

“Oh, sure dear. I’ll call him just as soon as Cliff and I finish our game, which won’t be long. Why I let him talk me into this bootleg game is anybody’s guess. Good night, honey, I’ll talk to you later.”

She hung up. “Well, that’s one Gardiniér who won’t be landscaping my rosebush.”