Page 13 of Finding Wonderland

Vera looked at Isla, waiting for a response. There was no way Isla could decipher if Vera was giving her a please get me out of this look or an I’m entirely amused and want to eat spaghetti with you look. Nor did she know which she wanted it to be. Granted, even if Vera did come over, it wasn’t as if it would be on a date. No relationships started by a loud mouth kid asking a perfect stranger over to dinner.

“You don’t have to come,” Isla finally said.

“Oh, okay.” As her shoulders slumped ever so slightly, Isla finally realized what look was on Vera’s face. Disappointment. “Maybe another time?”

Isla wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement but it didn’t matter. Mason didn’t give her time to process it before whining, “But, Mommy, you said we both have to make friends here, remember?”

Busted. By a four-year-old, nonetheless.

Pushing aside whatever concerns she may have about having Vera over to dinner, Isla put on her best smile and looked at Mason.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

Mason nodded enthusiastically.

I’m trapped. How bad can one dinner be? God, my house is a mess. She’s a doctor. She probably expects fine China and actual dining room tables. Not eating spaghetti on thrift store dinnerware at a card table.

“We would love to have you over for dinner, if you want to come.”

There. Now the ball is in her court.

Vera wasted no time smiling and saying, “I’d love that.”

“Us too,” Isla tried to mask her uncertainty with enthusiasm.

For the last few years, all her friends had been the parents of kids Blake and Mason’s ages. They were all friendly and cordial because they had to be; otherwise trips to the playground were just awkward. But now, Isla was setting out on a new path all her own. She had to make friends like an adult, whatever that meant. Isla honestly had no idea.

But maybe a spaghetti dinner insisted on by a four-year-old was exactly how friendships started. Who was Isla to question it?

“Here,” she dug in her purse for a small notebook and pen, “let me give you our address.” Isla scribbled the address down on a piece of paper, ripped it out, and gave it to Vera. “Does six o’clock work for you?”

“Six is great.” With a wink, Vera tucked the paper into her bag. “I’ll see you then.”

And with that, Vera turned and headed down an aisle, leaving Isla speechless. It wasn’t often Isla found herself at a lack of words. She was one of the most talkative people around. But there was something about Vera Forsyth that was almost spellbinding.

Maybe I don’t get out enough. Or don’t know how to flirt. Is it supposed to feel this awkward? God, what if she wasn’t flirting and was just being nice?

Isla knew Mason had a way of getting what she wanted. Those green eyes could get her just about anything she asked for. Well, except for a Lisa Frank lunchbox.

“Okay, Mace.” Opening the glass door of the dairy section, Isla took out a small bottle of milk and handed it to Mason. Then she took another one out and held it up. “I’m going to get two of these and you can have one tomorrow with dinner if you promise that when we get home, you will help me clean the house before Miss Vera comes over.”

Mason firmly nodded; her eyes locked on the second bottle of milk. “I’m a good helper, Mommy.”

“I know you are, baby. Now, let’s finish shopping and go home, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“And Mason?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s not invite any more people to dinner tonight, okay?” Isla laughed, letting Mason know she was teasing. Mason giggled, wrapping her arms around Isla’s legs.

“Okay, Mommy.”

Chapter 6

Vera

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