Hannah shrugs. “Honestly, I can’t remember anything about the movie other than that Travis’s dad brained someone with a frying pan.”
“Sounds fun,” Liam says.
Briar scrunches her nose.
“What kind of a man are you looking for, Ann?” Hannah asks. “Do you want, like, a less chatty silver fox?”
Ann heaves the sigh of someone who just went on a date with an aging narcissist. “I might be all the way done with men after this. I thought for sure George was the one. That man talked a good game.”
“You shouldn’t give up,” Briar says earnestly. “Not if you want to meet someone. I mean, look at Bear and Dottie. Dottie says they met after she’d decided she was done with dating.”
“We certainly did.” Dottie smiles at the handsome older man beside her, on the shorter side and well-built, with thick silver hair. “This man is the only person who could have convinced me otherwise, although I made him work for it.”
“Iwantedto work for it,” Bear insists.
Theyaredisgustingly cute. Not as over-the-top affectionate as my mom and Cormac’s dad, but they have this warm connection that sort of radiates outward. A serene contentment that I’ve never felt with a romantic partner before.
The voice in my head, which should really mind its own business, objects.
You feel that way withhim. That’s why you brought him up to Gallagher Park the other week. That’s why you felt so awful after you walked away from him afterward.
“Yeah,” Sophie says. “We’ve all dated awful men.”
“In some cases thesameawful man,” I add.
She smiles and continues, undaunted. “But you have to keep trying. I never would have ended up with Rob if I’d given up. When you find the right person, it makes all the struggle worthwhile.”
I feel a twist of something in my chest—discomfort or possible indigestion, who’s to say. But I hoist up my teacup. “We need to let Ann decide. If she doesn’t want us all up in her business, pushing her toward this man or that, that’s for her to say.”
Best to draw that line now.
“But what about you andyoursweet man?” Ann asks. “Aren’t Dottie and I allowed to help you along?”
I cast a dark look at her. “Come on, Ann, I thought we were friends.”
“Oh, I’ll keep your secrets. Of course I will.” She swats the air, completely ignoring the fact that she has not, in fact, kept my secrets.
God, I’m an idiot.
I should really have thought of this a while ago, but the more people who know about a situation, the more likely it is that the truth will come out.
Sooner or later, my mom is going to find out about?—
I don’t even know what to call my situation with Cormac, other than a situationship.
It used to be both secret and fake; now it is neither of those things fully. The only thing I can say for sure about it is that it’s complicated.
“Anyhow,” Ann continues, “I don’t mind telling you children what I like. I like a man with a fine beard. A fine, thick beard.”
Hannah waggles her brows. “Like Santa Claus?”
“Like a real damnman,” Ann says emphatically, rapping the table once.
Bear, who is clean-shaven, rubs his jaw while Dottie pats his hand supportively.
“And I don’t want to be with a man who only talks about himself,” Ann continues. “On and on about all the great things he’s done and people who’ve patted him on the back. You want to talk? Fine. You talk yourself blue, honey, but have something interesting to say one time out of ten.”
An idea sparks at the back of my mind, and I squirm in my seat, wanting suddenly, desperately, to share it with Cormac.
