“I’m going to go upstairs and change real quick,” I say, attempting to soften the scowl on my face.
Mom grabs the bread basket from the counter. “Don’t be long, sweetie.”
“I won’t,” I say, bounding up the stairs.
I’m glad to see Oliver, even if I’ll never admit it to my mother. But she has to learn it’s not okay to interfere in my life.
I smile to myself, a plan already forming in my mind. I whip my phone out of my pocket and fire off a text to Lucy, even though she’s just downstairs.
I think I figured out how to get June Bug out of your house.
The bubbles pop up almost instantly.
Say less. What do you have in mind?
I shut the door to my room and bite back a grin as I tap out my response.
Perhaps Mom could use a furry companion for a few days to fill the free time she’s spending meddling in my love life. What do you think?
10
MJ
“Our plan appears to be working,”Rose whispers as I pass her the pot I just washed in the kitchen sink.
“Ourplan?” I ask. “I thought you absolved yourself of all responsibility.”
“Well, I did,” she says, drying the dish with a towel. “Until I saw how brilliant my idea turned out to be.”
Echoes of laughter waft in from the living room, and my heart swells. Lindsey might have been surprised, or even a little upset at first, but from the way she smiled and giggled next to Oliver on the couch, I could tell that any frustration she felt had already melted away.
“He’s a good egg, that one,” Rose says, reading my mind.
“That he is,” I agree, busying myself by scooping toasted hazelnut coffee into the filter and filling the carafe with water.
Oliver is more amazing than I imagined. In fact, I’m not sure I could’ve found someone as perfect as him if I’d been given the opportunity to handpick a match for Lindsey myself. He’s the kind of guy who doesn’t justaskif he can help with the dishes. Instead, he gets up and startsdoingthem. When he asks Lindsey questions, you can tell he genuinely cares about her answers and that he’s filing the information away for safekeeping.
“Grandma!” Emily’s voice tinkles like a bell. “Can I have a cookie?”
I give her tiny cherub cheek a squeeze. “Why don’t you let your dinner settle a bit longer and then I’ll bring some dessert into the playroom?”
She sighs. “All right.”
I turn long enough to pull some mugs from one of the upper cabinets, and in that amount of time, I hear the sound of porcelain scraping and the snickers of two people who think they’ve pulled one over on me.
?“Rose!” I whirl around just as Emily scampers from the room with a fistful of cookies.
“What?” my sister asks, pushing off the cabinets with her good foot, sending the office chair she’s sitting in gliding across the room. “Did something happen?”
“You think you’re so sneaky.”
“Dammit, Myra Jean. You have eyes in the back of your head or something?”
“Of course, I do. I have three kids.”
“Let’s get back out there.” Rose tugs the sleeve of my cardigan. “Things were just getting good.”
The coffee maker starts to hiss, and I roll her back into the living room.
