Page 19

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “This keeps getting better.”

“I’m just saying, my experience with goingondates is, er, limited. So, I need a little information, okay?” She drummed her fingers on the tumbler again. I wanted to squeeze her hand in mine and calm her nerves. What a disaster.

“Alright,” I said slowly, “in that case, just go with the flow and follow my lead. It’s really not complicated.”

“What lead?” she asked, exasperated. “This is what I’m saying. I have no idea what I’m doing, and I have no experience with this sort of thing. I should just resign and work somewhere else. I don’t need a doctorate-specific position. I’ll just be a waitress. Or a coal miner.”

I snorted. “Will you chill? You don’t need to run for the hills just because you’re facing a date with me.”

Even in my periphery, I could see the half-lidded look of derision she turned my way. “Because you’re so irresistible, right?”

“Because it’s easy, Shortstop. It’s just a date with my parents and an award ceremony. And in return, I’ll act like a doting, handsome,irresistiblehusband for your boss to take note of. Seriously, what could go wrong?”

Her silence told me that her brain had already conjured a long list of what could go wrong. I pressed my lips, fighting a smile. Of all the harebrained, zany things to happen in my life, this had the potential to top them all by a long shot. And I was in the mood for zany, apparently. “If you don’t want to do it, it’s fine. We’ll both survive, I’m sure. But if you really think aboutit—why not? Give it a shot. It might solve both our problems.”

Groaning, Ruth writhed uncomfortably in her seat. “Alright. I guess… yeah, fine. Let’s try it. You said you’re meeting your parents on Friday?”

“Friday night dinner. They live in Newport, but we’re meeting for dinner in Corvallis. It’s about an hour drive.” I turned on my blinker, pulling up to her apartment building.

“That’s fine.” She pushed at her glasses nervously. “I kind of owe you, anyway. Thank you for last night. And this morning.” She glanced down at the plastic food container on her lap and the drink. “I do appreciate it. Sorry I was such a—”

“Don’t,” I cautioned her sharply. “You’re perfectly smart, Ruth. We all get stressed and do random things now and then.” I pulled up to the curb, unsure which building was hers. In the early morning, a light mist trickled across the green lawn between buildings, and some of the residents were getting into cars or sending their kids off to school. Was it that time of the year already? Summer was almost over—I’d blinked, and it had passed. “Which apartment is yours?”

“This is fine.” Ruth set her cup in the cupholder—I noted that she had drunk hardly anything—and put the plastic food container next to it. Hastily, she opened the door and hopped out. “Thanks again. Appreciate it. I’ll see you Friday.”

“Whoa, hold on.” I put the car in park and undid my seatbelt. “I need your number so I can text you, at least. And what do you need me to do for your boss?”

“Nothing,” she replied with rushed indifference. She blinkedat me from behind her glasses, those yellow-ringed, gray eyes a little too wide and worried. “Literally, nothing. In fact, what you did last night is more than enough. I’ll just say you’re sick for the picnic.”

“What picni—”

“Bye!” she waved and then slammed the door. She hurried off, pulling out her phone from her pocket and fast-walking down the sidewalk to the building furthest from me. Those cute curls of hers bounced with every step, and her hips swayed side-to-side as she hurried out of sight between the thick rows of trees that lined the walkway.

I leaned my elbow on the window, smoothing my fingers over my lips. Well. Dr. Love was getting more interesting by the second. My car display lit up with a call. From my mom. “How’s that for timing?” I murmured, zipping my seatbelt back into place. I pressed the green button on my phone and put the car back into drive. “Morning, Mom.”

“Hey there, handsome,” her bright voice responded. This time in the morning, she would be headed to the school where she worked as a school counselor. “I have some news for you,” she sang.

I rolled my eyes, looking left and then right before turning out of the parking lot. “What a coincidence. So do I.”

“Oh, you first,” she said, and I heard the smile in her voice.

“I have a date for Friday night,” I replied, bracing myself for the onslaught of bubbly joy that would follow that pronouncement. She didn’t disappoint.

My mom gushed, and I heard clapping in the background, and then she put me on speaker phone before asking, “Who is she? How did you meet? Is she nice?”

“Is she hot?” my dad asked with his usual blunt sense of humor.

“Terrence,” Mom chided.

“Jayla,” he shot back.

Smiling, I replied honestly, “She’s beautiful. The way we met is a funny story, but I’ll save it for Friday. She’s excited to meet you both.” A blatant lie, but so was the rest of this charade.

“Okay, but son,” my mom said, and her voice took on that hard, sobering tone that she often took with students who were tiptoeing the line of her patience. “Is this another one-off girl? My heart can’t take this anymore. You’re thirty-six.”

“Yes, I know, and my eggs are drying up,” I joked, leaning my cheek on my fist.

Dad barked out a laugh, and Mom scoffed. “I mean it, Callum. Aniyah has no interest in having children, as you know, and you are my only hope.”