Page 39 of Someone Like You

As Raff and I bumble around the kitchen, Freya leans against the countertop doing a shitty job of stifling a giggle, and when Raff turns his back, she gives me a thumbs up.

At least she successfully deflected his question, but Iwillkill her later.

‘This is excellent work, Gaby,’ says Poppy after I’ve explained my idea and given her the name and location of Raff’s course. ‘And I agree that Jane is the most suitable potential match to go with. Food safety is at least adjacent to her work. I’ll connect with her and tee it up.’

‘Great!’ I reply, faking enthusiasm.

Ever since Freya and Raff went home, I’ve felt… I don’t know…flat.

We’re really doing this. We’reactuallymatching Raff with real women and one of them could be his person. But what if she turns out to be like Winnie and doesn’t fit into our friendship group?

This isn’t like buying him a sweater that doesn’t fit. You can’t return aperson. ‘Hey, Poppy… Yeah, sorry but Jane isn’t a good fit for us. She’s too clingy and we’re not seeing enough of Raff. Could you… you know, rehome her?’ Yeah, I’m sure that would go over well.

‘Have a good night, Gaby,’ Poppy says.

‘Thanks, you too.’

We end the call and I spin the phone in my hands, staring off into space. It’s such a weird position to be in. I’m essentially girlfriend shopping for my best friend. Weirder yet is that heknows– well, he doesn’tknowknow, but surely he didn’t buy that crap about period underwear. He’s got to realise that Freya and I are up to something.Right?

I check the time on my phone. It’s around 2p.m. back in Seattle, and my mom should be home from work by now as she’s on nightshift this month. I call her, half expecting it to go to voicemail, but she answers on the second ring.

‘Hi, hun. This is a nice surprise.’

‘Hi, Mom,’ I reply, breaking into a smile. Just the sound of her voice can lift my spirits. With a jolt, it hits me how much they need lifting right now. ‘How was work?’ I ask.

‘Oh, you know, just saving babies,’ she replies, and we share the in-joke with gentle laughter.

Mom is an OB-GYN, a term I’ve had to explain to British people enough times that now if anyone asks, I just say, ‘She delivers babies.’

Our in-joke was born (pun intended) when my brother-in-law, Jon, who’s a commercial realtor, shouted into his phone, ‘We’re not saving babies, here, Dan. That’s my mother-in-law’s job!’ That wasbad enough, but he did it at the dinner table during Thanksgiving, thenwinkedat her. Mom’s knuckles turned white, and I could tell she was seconds away from throwing the turkey at his head.

He’s always been a douchebag. But Issy loves him, so Mom and I put up with his douche-baggy ways. And when it comes to Jon, Dad feigns ignorance and stays out of it.

‘I can’t wait for you to get here,’ she adds.

‘I know, Mom. Me too.’

‘For starters, you can help me run interference between Monica and Chrissy.’

‘Oh no. What’s going on?’

Mom launches into a soap opera’s worth of wedding drama. Poor Monica has been fighting with Aunt Christine, who has apparently become a total Momzilla. I mentally pop some popcorn and settle in, instantly absorbed by Gina’s special brand of storytelling.

God, I love my mom. Even after a long shift at the hospital, she takes the time to make me laugh, enveloping me in a huge dose of motherly love across the Atlantic.

But even through the laughter, a quiet unease hums away.

Is it taking the next step in my career? This bizarro matchmaking BS? Homesickness?

Whatever it is, it seems to be taking root, which only makes me worry about it more.

‘Ready?’ I ask Raff.

The December issue ofNouveau Lifegoes live tomorrow and with it, the article about Raff. Tonight, he’s telling his parents he’s leaving Global Reach and partnering with CiCi, and I’m here to give moral support.

‘Hardly. I’d rather have a root canal with a rusty spoon – without anaesthetic.’

‘That’s, um…graphic. You know, I’m still happy to join the call. They won’t yell at you if I’m right there.’

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