“Fine,” I said flatly. I refused to let her know I was excited about the food. “I’ll stay too.”
“You’re too kind,” she said before getting in my car.
It was a twenty-minute drive to their house. They lived on a decently sized plot of land. They had two extra bedrooms and often invited me to stay if my house needed work and I couldn’t be there. I said no each time, but I was secretly glad for another option if it turned out I was shit at repairs.
“Here we are,” I said after I parked in their driveway. “Now I really need to?—”
“Boy, I will drag you by your hair.”
I laughed. “I’m kidding.”
“Two laughs and a joke in one night? You’re in a good mood.”
I paused. Without realizing, I was smiling more. Joking more, all because Piper kept starting it.
“I guess I am.”
“Interesting,” Marjorie said. Her eyes narrowed as she studied me, and I braced for questions. “We should get inside.”
She was gone before any more questions were asked and I followed her into the house.
It was still the same as it had been months ago, with photos of them and, inexplicably, me on their walls. They were stolen from when I would come to dinners and when they both came to the opening day of the coffee shop. At the time, I had no idea what they were doing with them.
I still didn’t.
“You got him!” Henrietta said, walking around the corner. She had a spatula in hand. “Finally. I thought you were avoiding us.”
“I wasn’t,” I said immediately. “I really am busy.”
“With many things, these days.” Marjorie muttered it under her breath.
“Just the coffee shop.”
The two women glanced at each other, and I tensed.
Theyknew.
Fuck.
“Everything’s almost done,” Henrietta said instead of asking about it. “It’s your favorite.”
“Not on purpose or anything,” Marjorie clarified. “We’re not that smart.”
“Definitely not.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Need my help setting the table?”
“Please,” Henrietta replied. “You know Marjorie just throws everything on there.”
“You love my chaos!” she said, following her wife into the kitchen. I went to get the silverware and the napkins, arranging them how Henrietta liked it. By that time, dinner was done.
I made it through about ten generic questions about the coffee shop before I knew they were hinting at something. I was in a good mood with Henrietta’s cooking, so I cut themoff.
“Whatever you wanna ask, ask it.” I leveled them with a flat stare.
“Dang it. He caught us.” Marjorie sighed. “We do have a question ... but I really like catching up.”
“What’s the question?”
