Page 42 of The Statistically Unlikely Reunion

It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Though almost always from my mother.

Lighten up, Lorelai, or you’ll give yourself early wrinkles.

Relax. People will think I’ve done something to you.

You could at least try to look happy.

Lucas’s expression falls. Solemnly, he holds out his hand in the universal pinky-promise gesture, and Aurora meets him there, without even waiting to hear what she’s committing herself to. “Then it will be up to us to help Lorelai have a little more fun, don’t you think?”

Aurora nods. “She deserves to have more fun.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Only then do they look over at me. But I can’t manage more than a weak smile as an ache in my chest blooms and spreads.

Much later, Lucas helps me fold laundry. (He’s been relegated to towels and shirts because the image of Lucas holding up my mother’s underwear was a bit much.) We’ve put on a 3Blue1Brown YouTube video on Laplace transforms we’d both been meaning to watch in the background.

I’ve not only completed the long list of tasks I’d allotted for the weekend, you could argue I’m ahead of schedule, since some items (helping the neighbor, for example) were listed as two-parters. Lucas has promised to bring some of the twins’ old books and incomplete workbooks next time, and I haven’t bothered to tease him about the assumption that there will be a next time.

“Why are you so good with kids?”

“After Dad died, it felt like it was my job to entertain the twins.” He shrugs. “Plus, kids are easy, simple. They tell you what they want, what they’re thinking.”

“If you want simple, why are you asking me out?”

“I like you because you’re complicated. You’re straightforward and blunt, and yet . . . even when you’re telling the truth? I get the feeling that it’s only eighty percent the truth. You’re always holding something back.”

I think of all the problems Lucas can’t let go of, the tabs of unsolved problems he refuses to read hints on, that he has queued in his head. “So you’re only attracted as long as I remain a puzzle?”

“I’m capable of enjoying both solved and unsolved riddles.”

“Look at you, containing multitudes.”

We both go back to folding. Minutes pass. Finally, my voice a study in nonchalance, I ask, “Think you can keep the date under a ten-dollar budget?”

Even though I’m looking down at the bralette I’m folding, I can feel Lucas’s gaze on me. His voice is a little gruff when he says, “Sounds perfect.”

I don’t mention any of my other, original, concerns.

It’s been so long since I’ve allowed myself something that’s just for me.

Even longer since I’ve wanted something or someone as much as I now want Lucas Sebastian Murray.

And damned if I’m not going to let myself have him.

13

I DON’T WANT TO BE YOU

PRESENT

There are two more texts waiting for me in the morning.

UNKNOWN: Sagittarius A* because you think of me as your own personal black hole.

UNKNOWN: Which would almost be an insult, if I didn’t also consider you my gravity.

“Thank you for meeting with me.” Aurora’s voice is polite but in that strained, I’m-really-trying way that has me immediately on edge.