Page 20 of About That Night

“I think when it comes to boys and men and texting, you have to lower your standards.” She pulls her own phone out of the pocket of her scrubs and stands up. She leans over the counter and shows me her phone. “Look at this text exchange with my sixteen-year-old son.”

How was school?

Ok.

There’s chicken in the fridge to reheat for dinner.

Ok.

I’ll be home around seven.

Ok.

Dad’s going to pop in on Meemaw on the way home from work so he’ll be late.

Ok.

Is that your only answer to everything?

No.

“It’s pointless.” She shakes her head. “I could say the world is ending, and he’d say ok.”

I feel for her. It’s kind of funny, but I’m sure it's frustrating.

“So I have that level of non-communication with my son to look forward to, is what you’re saying. Fantastic. I can’t wait.”

“My husband is only moderately better.” She swipes through her phone. “Look at this gem.”

She texted him first, “Can you drain the pond like we talked about?”

Only if you drain my balls.

My jaw drops. I start laughing. “Bobbi, I can’t, oh my goodness.”

“There’s romance right there, honey. Twenty years of sweet talking like that from my man. My point is, don’t expect much.”

“At least your husband added a laugh-cry emoji.”

She rolls her eyes. “We’re giving points for that? What does the eggplant emoji score?”

“Is he sending it or are you?” I joke.

We both laugh.

“Tell me about this guy,” she says. “Where did you meet him?”

“I went to high school with his sister. We cheered together, so I’ve known him for years. He was here yesterday visiting Mr. Young. He’s his grandson.”

“Ooh, I saw him. He was cute. I like men with tattoos.”

“Your husband doesn’t have any tattoos.”

Bobbi grins. “I know. No harm in looking, right?”

I give her a long look. “There might be.”

“That sounds territorial. You have a crush on this one? I’ve never seen you interested in a man before.”

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