Nicole nudges my shoulder. “But I’m not done. Here’s the final point—people don’t change.”
I gesture to Penny and her man as my evidence. “Penny’s with Gabriel. He’s changed.”
“Their story is different. Fate intervened and prevented them from seeing each other.”
Before I can answer, the pair in question arrives at our side. Ever the sophisticated European, Gabriel drops cheek kisses on Nicole then me.
I can’t deny that I adore his classy side. And him too, because he’s made Penny incandescently happy. Ergo, he gets gold stars from me. “Gabriel, tell me something. Do people change?”
He chuckles, then squares his shoulders. “Of course they do.”
Nicole casts a doubtful look his way, and Gabriel places his hand on his chest as if to say who me? “I’ve changed. I’m not the idiot I was when I was twenty-four.”
Nicole rolls her eyes then waggles her fingers, dismissing him. “You’re disqualified. Be on your way.”
“As a matter of fact, I will. I’m heading to my restaurant. Where I will create a delicious dessert for my lovely fiancée.” He roams his eyes over Penny possessively. “Something I would have done for her years ago, and I do now. Perhaps some things don’t change.” He winks and kisses Penny good-bye.
Penny turns to us. “He wants me to have something when I get home tonight from our night out.”
I sigh happily. “He’s so sweet.”
“And sexy,” she adds, with a naughty glint in her eyes. She gestures to the store. “Are we going in, girls? Or are we going to stare at the leprechaun wig in the window all night? Incidentally, if you can get Tyler to wear that wig I will buy drinks forever and ever and then some.”
I yank open the door. “Don’t leprechauns have red hair, though? Isn’t it more a Jolly Green Giant wig or an Emerald City wig?”
Nicole pipes in. “Or a Wicked Witch wig.” Nicole taps her finger on her chin. “Hmm. Now that I realize we can truly torture your ex by making him wear any wig we choose, I might actually approve of this date with him.” Nicole spins and points to Penny. “I know I’ve already lost your support.”
Penny laughs as she fiddles with a cherry-red hairstyle. “I just don’t happen to agree with your more—how shall we say—strident position?”
Nicole spots a long blond wig. “I’ve always wanted to see if you blondes have more fun,” she says to me, then asks the shopworker if she can try it on. The woman brings us thin nylon caps to cover our hair under the wigs. As Nicole adjusts the blond locks, she says, “Look, I don’t know if people can change. I just worry. I know you all think I’m a hard-ass—”
“Gee,” Penny interjects, placing her index finger on her temple. “Why would anyone think that?”
Nicole sighs. “And I don’t deny being a practitioner of tough love. But the reality is this—I’m a witness to the hazards, pitfalls, and potholes of dating in this decade, and I’ve seen much more of the bad and the ugly than the good. I don’t want to see Delaney get hurt, and I’m not convinced men can change.”
She peers into the mirror, tugs the bangs down lower, and spins around, showing us her new look.
“But hairstyles can definitely change,” I say. “And you look good as a blonde.”
Penny fiddles with her new fire-engine ’do and meets our gazes in the mirror. “But see, I do think people can change. Maybe it’s because I work with animals, but just hear me out. I’ve seen what adopting a pet can do for a person. How it can soften hearts and change priorities and turn you into someone who loves another creature nearly as unconditionally as that creature loves you.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders and squeeze. I adore the dog-loving heart of my bestie. “You’re right.”
Nicole tilts her head back and forth, like she’s weighing Penny’s observation. Then she utters a quiet, “That’s true.”
“Why don’t we let Delaney find out for herself?” Penny asks us through the reflection. “Go out with him and see how much he has changed.”
As I adjust a sapphire blue wig, I don’t just marinate on Penny’s questions about Tyler. I turn them back on myself. Sure, I want to know how he’s different, but I already see signs of that. What I also want to know is this—how have I changed?
I’d like to think I’ve changed for the better. I want to believe that my career shift from the sharp edges of law to the more peaceful waves of massage made me a better person. But, did it? A pebble wedges into the corner of my heart. Irritating and completely unpleasant, it’s a reminder that I didn’t tell Tyler the whole truth about my change of heart regarding my career. I didn’t open up fully to him about the phone call with my dad, even though Tyler seemed patently honest with me.
Do I need to share that detail with him? It’s not like I hid something terrible from him.
But even so, I didn’t tell him the full truth at the time, and I haven’t told him now either. I know why I hold back—if I don’t share everything I might not be fully hurt. By keeping parts of myself just for me, I like to think I can guard them from hurt.
I know that’s not true though.
We can’t ever protect ourselves from hurt, from broken hearts, from damaged love.
But we can try to live our lives differently.