Page 22 of Forget Me Knot

“Molly, outside, please!” Emory shrieks as I erupt into laughter.

“Beats, Emory. I was gonna saymagic in the beats. Right, Molly Dolly?”

I do my best beatboxing to really sell it, and Molly nods because she is all about solidarity. She hugs us both and skips out to talk to her alpaca friends. Pam and Phylis greet her first, and she jumps into instant conversation, giving them pets and animated entertainment.

“So,” Emory returns to our conversation. “What do you think you’re gonna do? You can’t date him… or them? Do you saythem?Can you date them both? That’s weird, right? I mean, I have so many questions. If you fall in love with one, have you fallen in love with the other? Who do you think is the better kisser?”

“Um.” I stare back at her, catching my breath. “I did not expect you to be so chatty about this.”

She points at herself like a cartoon character. “You didn’t think I’d be invested in a guy with a TBI who is gorgeous but has two very different personalities and doesn’t know who he’ll be every day when he wakes up? Do we even know each other? I’ve only watched every episode of every TV medical drama that has ever been created. This is like living inGray’s AnatomyorER. It’s fascinating.”

“It’s not fascinating, Emory. It’s his life. And it’s… romance,” I add. “You hate romance.”

“No.” She points her finger in the air and shakes it. She looks so much like our mama right now it brings a pang of grief, one I’m able to smile through. “No. I don’t like your romance-y books. They aren’t realistic. So much fantastical junk happens in those, yet there'salwaysa happy ending? I don’t think so.”

I splay out my hands in front of me. She has to see the irony in what she’s saying, right? I want to argue she’s cynical, but it's a moot point for us. She lost the love of her life before they ever really got a chance to live it. I don’t know what that feels like. She has Molly, and that is more than enough, but it isn’t the full happily ever after my sister dreamed about.

Emory rolls her eyes. “I said I’m interested to know who’s the better kisser, Dinah Belle. Not that it would lead to a white wedding, ya know? I don’t see this going anywhere. Not really. How could it?”

“I don’t know.” I sip my coffee and pout into it. I’ve been wracking my brain since my date with Jackson ended with a friendly, albeit semi-awkward hug at my doorstep. It’s a lot to process, and when push comes to shove, he wasn’t honest with me about it from the get-go. I don’t know how long he would have kept it from me, but the fact that he didn’t start there is a bitof a red flag. The fact that the rest of our crazy, chatty little town managed to not spill the beans is a whole other story.

But when I try to put myself in Jackson’s shoes, I’m not sure I would have jumped directly into thesplit personalityconversation either. So where does that leave me? I want to be his friend, but I’m not really sure that we can be more.

“Have you talked to him since your date?”

I nod. “He invited me to visit the church his family goes to in Sugartree. I went this morning before coming here. It was nice.” I sip my coffee and wait for Emory’s retort. Her relationship with her faith and the Church has been complicated in recent years. I try to leave space for her to talk about it when she wants to and to make sure she knows I’m here.

Today isn’t the day, though.

She laughs sardonically and pulls her socked feet up to rest underneath her on the couch. Only at home does she ever look this relaxed. “Only in the South does someone go on a second date to a church service.”

I shrug. She’s not wrong. “There was no meal and very little conversation, so I'm not sure it can’t be considered a date.”

“What? No Sunday potluck?”

“Nope.”

“And you certainly didn’t wear your new club t-shirt to service.”

I pop up, excited, with a new slogan idea. “Oh!Horns up top, party won’t stop!”

Emory pinches her lips and shakes her head. She knows good and well I will be brainstorming these from now until forever. “I don’t think you’ll win a beau with that one, Dinah Belle.”

“Anyways…” I continue. “Not much chit-chatting this morning about our future endeavors or my”—I wiggle my eyebrows—“undergarments.”

Emory sticks her finger in her mouth and faux gags.

I laugh. I knew I’d feel better about this whole thing, no matter how outlandish, as soon as I had a chance to download with her. “I’m not sure when I’ll see him—”

“Jackson.”

I nod. “Yes, Jackson. Again.”

“Ya know,” Emory sighs wistfully and settles deeper into the couch with her coffee nestled between her hands, “Meredith Gray had a whole lotta fun with a brain doctor once upon a time.”

8

THINKING OF YOU (I DRIVE MYSELF CRAZY)

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