To Sir, with Love - Lauren Layne Page 0,27
Sullivan. Do your homework, but do it later. Tell me about your man. Have you seen his package yet?”
I choke on my martini. “May!”
“Clutch your pearls all you want, dick pics are commonplace nowadays.”
“In what world?”
“Hmm, either you haven’t mustered up the courage to see the proof in the pudding or his thing’s crooked.”
“I’m not interested in his thing! We’re just friends. He’s a confidant.”
“Honey, I’m a confidant. Your sister is a confidant. This is a Situation.” She draws out each syllable of the word.
“It’s… something,” I admit.
“Oh yes,” she says inhaling deeply. “I’ve had a couple romantic pen pals myself.”
“Really?” I lean forward, always marveling that I’ve known May most of my life, yet I feel like I’m nowhere close to uncovering all her secrets.
“Mm-hmm. One during Vietnam, though he went home and married some proper girl and moved to Jersey.” She gives me a thumbs down and makes a splat noise. “Another was from San Francisco. This was when I was in my late teens. His letter was meant for Janet next door—horrid girl. They’d met at summer camp. He seemed too good for her, so I wrote him back, and he became my pen pal instead.”
“What happened?” I slide the olive off its pick with my teeth.
“He died. Boating accident.”
I blink. “Neither of those are good stories, May.”
“Sure they are. Just not happy ones. Because here’s the thing, young lady. Those sort of long-distance flirtations are all well and good, they’re memorable, but they aren’t the real deal. And if you’ve started telling yourself this is the real deal, it’s time to nip that in the bud, because that’s a fantasy. And fantasies do not warm the bed at night, nor do they help shoulder the burden of what’s going on with your business right now—Oh shit! I forgot to take the foil off the lasagna.”
May pulls on hot mitts that look like shark heads and tends to her eggplant lasagna.
I sigh. She’s right. And I don’t love that she’s right. This thing with Sir isn’t out of control, so to speak, but I’m no longer sure it’s harmless. I spend a little too much time thinking about him. I’m starting to wonder if it’s closed me off to looking at other men. I’ve gotten a handful of invitations to meet from other guys on the MysteryMate app, but they all seem so flat compared to him.
Other than customers and the vile Sebastian Andrews, I can’t even remember the last meaningful conversation I’ve had with a man.
I’m saved from my own thoughts by the old-fashioned buzzer connected to the doorman downstairs.
“Let your sister and brother up,” May orders as she begins mixing the second batch of martinis for the latecomers.
I do as she says, and a couple of minutes after I tell John downstairs to let them up, I’m opening May’s front door to Lily and Alec. Lily’s dressed as impeccably as ever in skinny black jeans and a cute twisty top with bows at the shoulder. Though she smiles, there are circles under her eyes. I squeeze her extra tight before turning toward Alec.
My brother-in-law’s a good-looking guy. Not particularly tall, but he’s religious about his daily workouts, and his lack of height is made up for with broad shoulders, a quietly commanding presence, and kind brown eyes.
I extend a hand. “Hi, I’m Gracie. You look sort of familiar, but I can’t put my finger on how I know you…”
He rolls his eyes and hauls me in for a hug. “I know I’ve been a little absent lately, message received loud and clear.”
I hug him extra tight too, because I sense he needs it as much as Lily does. When I pull back and look at the two of them, my heart sinks as I realize there really is a stiffness between them.
May bustles into the room with her tray of martinis, bacon appetizers, and mixed nuts and orders everyone to sit. We’ve been to May’s dozens of time over the years, and we each have our spots. Caleb and I on the long floral couch next to my dad, Lily and Alec on the matching love seat, and May in what she calls her throne, an ugly brown wing chair.
Tonight, Lily sits beside me on the couch.
I want to believe it’s because she doesn’t want to remind me that Dad’s gone and Caleb’s in another state, and I’m sure that’s partially it. But the way she carefully avoids looking at Alec when he sits on