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“Ginny. Yes. How cute. How old fashioned—like a Ginny Lind bed. My name is Claire Vitale.” Out of nowhere, she smacked the table as she raised an accusatory eyebrow at Nico. “Young man, stop standing there in the doorway like a drug store dummy. Come sit down next to Ginny.”

Nico scooted in next to Ginny on the bench seat, who made more room for him than he needed. A generous foot of air remained between them.

His mother was not satisfied. “Oh, now, stop being shy. You’re cucumbers and vinegar now, but I can tell you two are next year’s crunchy pickles. Here, I’ll do the marriage test. It’s a family tradition.”

Ginny’s eyes widened. “The marriage test?”

Ginny looked at Nico, but he was as clueless as Ginny about this. If it was a family tradition, it was some other family. What in the world did his mother think she was remembering?

His mother nodded at Ginny, one eye half-closed in a serious manner. “Yes. It’s foolproof. There’s three parts.” She held up a finger. “First, put your hands on the table.”

Ginny dutifully put her hands out, palms up. “Oh, do you do palm readings?”

His mother scrunched her face like she’d just tasted rancid milk. “Palm reading is hogwash. I read the tops of hands.” She looked at Nico. “Go on. You too.”

Once their four hands were flat on the table, she leaned forward, ooh’ing and ah’ing as she examined them. “That’s pretty good, pretty good. A good start.” She sat back against the booth. “Okay, now sit back-to-back.”

He and Ginny gave each other a ‘what-the-heck’ shrug, then spun in their seats until their backs just barely touched.

His mother tsk’d. “No, no. You have to press in .” She made a smushing motion with her hands. “Come on. I don't have all day for this. I’m old.”

Ginny scooted in reverse toward him, and he did the same. He felt the slight of her against him, the shape of her slim shoulders enveloped by his broad back. The curve of her head pressed the tender spot just between his shoulder blades.

“How’s this?” Ginny asked his mother, barely suppressing a giggle.

His mother tilted her head this way and that as if she were Sherlock Holmes examining a crime scene. Nico was increasingly certain this was no Vitale family tradition.

Finally, she announced, “Yes, I see it. I see it. It’s good. You’re almost marriage material. Okay, now, the final part is, you touch nose-to-nose.”

Nico felt Ginny stiffen against him—or was he the one whose trapezius muscles had twitched at the prospect of being face-to-face with her again?

He expected her to suddenly need to use the bathroom or make a phone call, but when he began to turn toward her, she was doing the same.

The lightly pinked cheeks he’d noticed earlier now blushed so deep some of her freckles were disappearing.

Did she want to do this? Did he? Why did he feel like he was ten years old and playing spin-the-bottle…with his mother watching!

But he didn’t want to break whatever spell his mother was under and, apparently, neither did Ginny.

Their faces moved closer. Nico scrunched himself down as he saw her crane her neck upward.

They were inches apart now, moving in what felt like slow motion.

Her breath smelled sweet, and he could see every gold fleck in her stunning green eyes.

She blinked her thick lashes and, for a second, his brain muddled.

What was it again they were supposed to be doing? Were they about to kiss?

Ginny must have been afraid of that very thing because, at the last second, she repositioned her face. Reflexively, he did the same, with the result that his nose bumped her cheek.

Ginny fell back, giggling and rubbing her skin, and Nico felt his own cheeks redden.

Nico’s mother let out a triumphant cackle. “You should see your faces!”

“You didn’t tell me your mother is a prankster,” Ginny said. “She just played a trick on us!”

Nico shook his head ruefully. “April first was her favorite day of the year.”

Ginny reached across the table and briefly pressed her hand against Claire’s. “It’s my favorite day too!”

His mother half covered her mouth as if she only wanted Ginny to hear what she was about to say. “The real test is how red your cheeks got. You two are crunchy pickles for sure.” She put her hand back down and looked right at Nico. “So, Nico, when are you going to ask her out?”

Nico’s breath caught. She said his name. As he turned to face his mother, Ginny stilled and stopped laughing. The whole world stilled.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked his mother.

“I should hope so. Either that or I changed the wrong kid’s diapers for four years.”

“Oh, Mom.” Leaving his seat, he bent to one knee in front of her, then reached up and rested a hand lightly over hers. It felt like she had returned from somewhere far, far away. “It’s so good see you. Do you know where you are?”

She rolled her age-sunken eyes. “What kind of question is that?” Her hands flew up in an irritated, fluttery motion. “Now, get up off the floor and make us all that pot of tea I asked you for an hour ago. I raised you better than to be rude to guests, especially pretty ones.” She winked at Ginny.

Nico rose and exited the booth, but Ginny slipped out of her seat too.

“Nico already made the tea,” she lied. “And, yesterday, he baked some of your favorite cookies.” She motioned for Nico to return to his seat at the booth, then moved to the stove with barely a hint of a limp.

She poured hot water into a waiting teapot and brought that to the table, followed by a small tray with cups, milk, sugar, and lemon bars.

“Don’t they smell amazing?” Only after Nico had scooted over to make room for Ginny on the bench seat did he notice that there were only two cups on the tray.

She bent and whispered in his ear. “I’ll make myself scarce. Treasure every moment you can.” To his mother she smiled as she backed out of the room. “I’ll just be gone a minute.”

His mother grinned up at Ginny, a happy quirk to her lips. “Hurry back!”

Once Ginny left, his mother reached a hand toward him over the table and looked him straight in the eyes. Her eyebrows raised and lowered as she tilted her head in the direction Ginny had gone. “That girl is a little bit magical, I think.”

Nico began pouring the tea. “I’m starting to think so too.”