It hurts if I think about it too long. My own mother hasn't called in months. My father sent a photo of a rock formation with his thumb up in front of it. These women, who share noblood with me, have asked about my apartment, my eating habits, and my emotional wellbeing in the last four minutes.
"So." Beth turns to me with a look that's shifted from warm to strategic. "Any young men on the radar?"
"Mom, stop pressuring her." Poppy groans. "She just got here."
"I'm asking." Beth is completely unapologetic. "Gran's right. She's young and beautiful and new in town. It's a reasonable question."
"There are no young men."
Beth and Vera snort into their glasses, then catch each other's eye and giggle. For a split second, I see all the years they've done just that. From childhood to now, a friendship that's outlasted everything.
"What about Cal?" Gran says it like she's been sitting on it for twenty minutes, waiting for exactly the right gap. She swirls her wine, doesn't look at me while she says it. Which is how you know it's deliberate.
Poppy puts her face in her hands.
"Cal is a lovely young man," Vera muses. "He's so handsome. Comes from a great family. Has a good job and is respected. If anyone in this town is good enough for you, sweetheart, it's probably him."
I keep my face very still, but my pulse has other ideas, so I take a sip of wine like everything is casual and normal and completely fine.
"But?"
Beth tilts her head, considering her words as she takes over from her friend. "He's twenty-nine. You're twenty-two. That's a gap."
"It's seven years," I say, as evenly as I can. I try not to catch Poppy's eye. She'd out me in an instant.
"It's a significant seven years at your age. A twenty-nine-year-old man and a twenty-two-year-old woman are in very different places."
I should let it go. That would be the smart thing, the sensible thing.
"Rome is seven years older than Erin. Give or take a year."
Everyone exchanges glances. Why did I say that? Why did I say anything?
"I'm just saying." Another sip of wine, another attempt at nonchalance that's fooling absolutely no one. "The age gap argument doesn't hold up if we've already accepted it in someone else."
"You're pushing kind of hard on this for someone with no young men on the radar," Gran observes.
"I'm not pushing. I'm making a point."
"You're making a very passionate point."
I give Poppy a look that says help me. She shrugs dramatically. The bitch.
"It's a logical point. Based on consistency." I keep my voice very even, but I can feel the heat climbing my neck and no amount of willing it to stop actually makes it stop.
"You’re blushing, Lily," Poppy says, watching me like I'm entertainment.
Gran is grinning into her wine and saying nothing, which is worse than anything she could have said. Beth and Vera exchange a look.
"Well." Beth clears her throat. "Rome and Erin are very happy."
"They are," I agree, and it comes out too quickly, and God, I need to stop talking.
"And Cal is a wonderful man."
"I wouldn't know. I barely know him."
Poppy makes a sound into her wine glass that she tries to turn into a cough. It's not convincing.
