can’t always be ready. Life tends toward chaos, sadly. I thought I had my life all planned out nicely, and then my husband died in a car accident and everything changed completely. It’s all very well to have a plan—it’s a good idea—but you have to be able to walk away from it if you need to.”
“And you walked away from yours?”
Lili finished her wine. “I’m not sure ‘walk’ is the right verb, but I left it behind. That version of it, anyway. More wine?”
She got up and went into the kitchen.
When she came back, she was clearly ready to change the subject.
“So, why does Annabel hold such a poor opinion of your flirting?” She handed Nina her refilled wineglass and sat back down on the floor.
Nina blushed. “She and the other girls saw a friend of mine come to the store and decided we were flirting.”
“You weren’t?”
Nina sighed. “Not successfully.”
“But this is someone you like?”
“I don’t know him at all.” Nina paused. “But yes, he’s attractive. I’m not sure he’s very smart; he seems to know a lot about sports but nothing about books.”
Lili frowned. “And that matters? Is book smart the only smart that counts?”
Nina shrugged. “To me, I guess, which I realize isn’t very open-minded. I love books; they’re my job, my main interest . . . I’m not very sporty.”
Lili looked skeptical. “So is the issue that he’s not bookish, or that you’re not sporty? Maybe there’s something you’re both interested in. Movies? Animals? Entomology?”
Nina sighed and stretched out on the floor, gazing at the ceiling. There was a clump of something pink up there. “Is that Play-Doh?”
Lili didn’t even look. “Probably. You’re going to have to go out with him, I guess, to find out whether or not you’re compatible.” She paused. “Do you young people actually date anymore, or do you run algorithms to see if it’s going to work?”
Nina smiled. “Yeah, we have our phones talk to each other and see if our operating systems are compatible. Saves so much time and effort.” She added, “And why you’re calling me ‘you young people,’ when you’re probably all of three or four years older than me, I’m not sure.”
Lili smiled. “Yeah but those are mom years; they’re like dog years, seven for every one. Chronologically, I’m thirty-four, but in mom years, I’m ninety-four.”
“Well . . . then you look great for ninety-four.”
“Thanks. Can’t you stalk him online? I thought you guys all did that.”
“I guess. I don’t know his last name.”
Lili laughed and dragged her laptop over. “Well, what do you know about him?”
“I know he’s on a trivia team that beat my team the week before last. With a question on horse racing, for crying out loud. Did you know that all racehorses have the same birthday?”
Lili nodded absently. “Yes, January first.”
Nina threw up her hands. “Does everyone know this fact except me?”
Lili ignored her. “Here we go. There’s a site that lists all the trivia teams in the East Los Angeles Pub League. Is that your league?”
Nina nodded.
“And what’s his team name?”
“You’re a Quizzard, Harry.”
Lili looked over at her and made a face. “Really? And you think he’s not bookish?”
“Oh,” said Nina, “good point. Not sure that being a Potter fan makes you bookish, per se, but I suppose it does mean he can read.”
“Are you criticizing Harry Potter?”
“Never. I’m a Ravenclaw.”
“A bookworm like you? What a surprise.” Lili was scrolling down a page of some kind, the screen hidden from view. “Here it is. Team members . . .” She paused and frowned suddenly. “Thomas Byrnes.”
“Burns like Edward or Byrnes like David Byrne?”
“The latter. With a Y.” Lili was still frowning. “That’s bizarre.”
“Why?”
Lili didn’t answer and then looked up and smiled suddenly. “Nothing, I got distracted.” She closed the computer. “So now that you know his name you can stalk him to your heart’s content.”
“I don’t know if that’s really my scene.”
“You’re lying.” Lili grabbed one of the blank seed packets and started working on it.
“Yes, I’m lying,” Nina said. “But I’m not in the market for dating right now. Things are pretty tight, time wise, and I have my life together and organized, and I think a boyfriend might be too much.” She started babbling. “Besides, I don’t know if I can manage the Instagram-worthy relationship, with its photo opportunities and matching sweaters and public declarations. I find it hard enough to relate to people in private; having to do that while also creating an effective online presence as a