they came, actually,” I admit. “I needed to say those things to her.”
“I feel kind of bad for her,” he says.
“Why?” I lean back so I can look at his face.
“She’s stuck with him, no matter what.”
“True.” I open the screen door and we walk inside together, and his eyes get glassy when he sees the table set for two, the candles, the wine glasses. “I cooked,” I say as heat creeps up my cheeks. I pick up a bowl of bird food and set it on the floor. “For Wilbur.”
“He’s going to get it everywhere,” he warns. “He’s not a very refined little dude.” He stares at the table. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a dinner date. What exactly are we supposed to do now?”
I motion toward the table. “Well, first we sit.”
He walks over and pulls my chair out, and I nearly swoon as I settle into it. He sits down next to me and looks at me instead of the food. “I think this is the very best date I’ve ever been on.”
“It hasn’t even started yet,” I say with a laugh.
“Wrong. It started when I first met you.” He stares into my eyes and doesn’t look away. And I can’t either.
15
Abigail
“Gran,” I say with a heavy sigh, “he didn’t even kiss me.” I stare up at my ceiling, thinking back to the best date I’ve ever had. Ethan had been charming and charismatic and so damn nice. But no kiss. Not even a small one.
“Maybe he’s not ready for kissing,” Gran says with a chuckle. “Maybe he’s holding on to his virginity.”
“He has a son, Gran,” I feel led to remind her.
“But he’s been re-virginized. Meaning it’s been so long since he’s had sex that he’ll probably go off like a virgin when he finally gets to do it again.”
“Gran!” I pretend to be astounded by her boldness, but I’m really not. She’s Gran, after all. If it’s in her head, it’s pretty much going to come out of her mouth. “You don’t know anything about his sexual past. He could have had sex recently.”
“You should ask him.” I hear her chewing something on the other end of the phone.
“I’m not going to ask him anything that personal.” When was the last time you had sex? Did you enjoy it? How many times did you do it? In what position? “What are you eating?” I ask her.
“Jelly beans,” she says. “The black ones you always leave behind.”
“I hate the black ones.”
“That’s the kind of man you need, Abigail,” she says. “You need one that’ll eat all the black jelly beans just because he knows you don’t like them.”
“I could just do away with the need for a man and throw my own black jelly beans away,” I say flippantly.
“You know how when you pick through the party mix and you only pick out the little woven squares? You need a man that’ll eat your pretzels and the other bits you hate so much.”
“Only some of the party mix is edible,” I remind her. “Nobody likes all of the ones that come in the package.”
“But, see, if he knows you well enough, he’ll eat your unwanted bits and he’ll like it.”
“So you’re telling me that I need to test him by eating party mix around him, just to see if he’ll step up to the plate?” I grin as I pick absently at my cuticles. It has been a while since I’ve had a manicure.
“I think he already stepped up to the plate when he knocked Charles right in the kisser. That young man bought my undying gratitude with that punch.”
I roll my eyes, for my own benefit apparently since Gran couldn’t see me. “He only punched Charles because Charles kicked his duck.”
She snorts. “You can lie to yourself, Abigail, but you can’t like to a grandmother. We know things.”
“Speaking of which,” I say, “how did you find out about the punch?”
“Charles’s mother called. She was very upset. Said you’re not taking her calls, that she has left messages for you and you haven’t called her back.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“I told her you’d call back if you had anything you needed to say to her.”
“Did she say what she wants?” I can honestly say that I haven’t even listened to the voice mails she’s left.
“She wants to talk you into taking Charles back, I think.”
“Gran,” I remind her, “Charles has no desire to be taken back by me.” Not that I