He smiles a little wider. "I'm glad."
The silence stretches for a second before he clears his throat. "I was actually hoping we could have dinner sometime. Just the two of us."
He says it like the answer is already decided.
Like he's working out the details instead of asking the question.
My stomach knots.
Tiny barely knew me, and he still asked Scarlett if I'd even be comfortable giving him my number.
Daniel doesn't ask if I'd like to go.
He tells me what we're going to do.
"I'm pretty busy," I say carefully. "School keeps me occupied, and the clinic's been really busy lately."
"I'm sure we'll find a time."
We.
Not if you'd like to.
Not would you be interested.
We'll.
I force a small smile because I don't know what else to do. "Maybe."
He nods like that's the answer he was expecting. "I think we'll get along really well."
Before I can respond, Dad's laugh echoes from the living room.
Daniel glances toward the sound. "I should probably get back."
"Probably."
He smiles at me one last time. "I'm looking forward to it." Then he walks away.
I stand there staring at the doorway long after he's gone. He never actually asked me. Not really. And somehow... I think that's the part I can't stop thinking about.
The rest of the evening drags.
Dad walks the Harrises to the front door while Mom and I carry the last of the dishes into the kitchen. I rinse plates under hot water while she loads the dishwasher beside me, and neither of us says much. Every now and then I hear Dad laughing out on the porch, his voice carrying through the screen door like nothing uncomfortable happened over dinner.
The water runs over my hands until I realize I've been holding the same plate for longer than I need to.
Mom reaches over and gently takes it from me.
"I'll finish that one."
"Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize."
I dry my hands on the dish towel and lean against the counter while she slides another plate into the dishwasher.
"He seems nice," she says after a minute.
