Page 89 of The Fix-Up

“Iris’s customer service skills are rubbing off on you,” Mae said.

“Only for my favorite customers,” I said in a sugar-sweet voice before turning around and marching back behind the counter.

Ali grinned. “Touchy-touchy.”

“Did you know someone volunteered to run preschool story hour for me until my replacement starts?” Mae asked.

“I did not. Who could it be?” Ali snatched a piece of cornbread from Mae’s plate and took a bite. She almost lost a finger when Mae tried to stab her with a fork.

“Why, it’s Gilbert Dalton. He plays guitar and he has such a nice voice. He’s great with the kids.”

“Is he? He seems so reserved.” Ali pointed with the knife she was using to cut up her meatloaf. “It’s always the quiet ones, though. Hidden depths beneath still waters. Or something like that.”

I slammed a bottle of ketchup on their table. Neither of them asked for it. But they got it anyway. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Ali leaned in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I like ideas. What are the ideas?”

I glared. “None you need to worry about. And stop teasing me. I barely slept last night because Oliver locked Gil and me in Ollie’s bedroom together with some silly notion about me getting a boyfriend and then a baby brother for him. And then we cuddled—onlycuddled, so get your minds out of the gutter—in Ollie’s bed and then I told him that couldn’t happen again.”

“Sounds horrible,” Ali said.

“That’s the thing. It was nice.” Mae waved a hand at me. I ignored it. “I haven’t cuddled in so long and it was Gil and he waltzes around the house all the time in a toolbelt and hefixes things with the tools and he rescues kittens and cleans up after himself and, if I’m honest, he cleans up after me and he’s so sweet with Oliver. But he also wants to sell the house and Oliver is already attached to him and that’s scary because there is nothing at all permanent about our situation and Oliver can’t be some kind of collateral damage in all this. And…and…I shouldn’t have all these…these feeli?—”

Ali suddenly jumped up and threw her arms around me in a bone-crushing hug.

After a good twenty seconds of being unable to move my arms or breathe properly, I choked out, “Why are you hugging me?”

“Because Gil is right behind you,” she whispered, “and I didn’t think you wanted to finish that sentence.”

“No,” I said in horror.

“Looks pretty frowny. He must be in a mood, too.”

I winced. “Please pick up that butter knife and run it right through my heart. Tell Oliver I loved him.”

“I’ll do no such thing.” She pulled away and grinned. “Just play along.”

“What?”

“I’m so excited you said yes. Abe will be in town for a long weekend in May and I said to Mae, ‘Those two have so much in common.’ You’re both single parents, you both love me. It’s perfect, right? Mae agreed. No trying to get out of it either. We still have two more matchmaking dates. You promised.” Her eyes screamed at me to agree.

Abe was Ali’s youngest brother and her husband’s lifelong best friend. He lived out of state and had a little girl. We’d met a handful of times. While he was a nice guy, fun to hang out with and we did have a lot in common, there were zero sparks.

“Okay. Sure. Right. That sounds great. Thanks,” I said.

Ali’s eyes shifted to the right. “Oh, hey, Gil. I didn’t see you there.”

“Morning,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly and, because I knew his moods, a little pissed off. He stalked past the table, accidentally (on purpose), brushing my shoulder. “I’ll be in the office.”

A few seconds later, there was the distinct sound of the office door slamming shut. I winced. “How much do you think he heard?”

“All of it,” Mae said.

I sighed. “Oh, goody.”

THIRTY-SIX

Love is something where someone really cares about someone else, like a family member or also marriage.

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