Page 6 of We Can Forever

“Hey.” Her tone softens. “I know. It’s been a long time. It’ll be good for you, though. It’ll be something new. And it’s not like you have to run to the chapel and get married to anyone.”

“But you want me to.”

She bites her bottom lip, something she does when she’s trying to hide her true feelings.

I sigh. “Okay, fine. So, who is this woman? Who did you pick?”

“I can’t tell you that. Just show up at Knit Happens at seven tomorrow night, and she’ll be there.”

“So, she owns Knit Happens?” My sister makes a motion of zipping her lips. I can’t help but shake my head and smirk.

“Wear something green. That sweater Mom gave you a couple years ago will be nice. It’ll bring out the gold flecks in your eyes.”

“I know how to dress,” I say, though I already know I’ll be taking her advice and wearing the sweater.

She ignores my attitude. “Katie can come over to our house tomorrow. We’ll all have a pizza-making party, and then she can spend the night. That way, if the date goes well, you can see it through.” She winks.

I groan. “Damn, Jenny, way to make it awkward.”

She opens the door on a laugh. “Relax. I’m not asking for a play-by-play.”

I follow her into the kitchen, where Rose already has her backpack on. “Can I have extra gaming time tonight?”

“What about your chores?” Jenny tucks some loose hair behind Rose’s ear.

“I’ll get them done really fast!” Rose darts out the back door.

“Remember,” Jenny calls over her shoulder as she leaves as well. “Green sweater!”

The second the door closes, Katie is on me. “What was Aunt Jenny talking about? You have a date?”

“Uh…” I shift awkwardly, unsure of how to approach this.

But then I remember the promise I made to myself years ago—that I would never lie to her. The two exceptions to this pertained to Santa and the Tooth Fairy, and by five, she’d uncovered the truth about both of them.

So, I do what only makes sense. “Yes. I have a date.”

There it is. I guess I’m going on a date.

Which is insane. I don’t date.

Ever.

“A date with who?” She studies me intensely from behind her wire-rimmed glasses, and I remember what Jenny said about her being able to handle more than I give her credit for.

“I’m not sure. Your aunt set it up.” I watch for her reaction.

“Oh.” She gets the orange juice carton from the fridge and pats me on the shoulder. “Good. It’s about time.”

“I—it’s about time?” I sputter. “Since when are you keeping track?”

Unfazed, she pours a glass of juice. “The longer you go without dating, the harder it will be. Better to rip the Band-Aid off, like you told me when I skinned my knee.”

Taking her orange juice, she leaves the kitchen. A moment later, the sound of her bedroom door closing echoes through the house.

I stay planted by the counter, my head swimming. When and how did my kid get so wise?

Then again… I catch sight of the orange juice carton on the counter, lid dropped on the floor, and dribbles of juice on the stove.

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