Page 73 of Meet Cute Magic

For dinner, I drive us one town over to Fair Meadow, and the Mayfield girls chat the entire ten-minute drive there, giving each other updates of menial things in their lives and dishing out random gossip they’ve heard. We park in a township lot before making our way two blocks to the restaurant I chose, which has a wide variety of foods, including a solid burger and fries. I picked it out knowing that to be Rosie’s favorite food and that they have a great vegetarian menu for Poppy. The town seems to love the holidays; every foot of our walk is decorated for Halloween, meaning the girls ooh and ahh at every little thing as Rosie and I walk hand in hand at the front of the pack, her sisters trailing behind.

We walk past a sign promoting a holiday hayride, and without my permission, my mind runs to a month or two from now, Rosie fully bundled up, a warm cup of hot chocolate in her hands as winter sets in, and coming back here for the holidays. I’m sure if the decorations are this good for Halloween, they probably go all out for Christmas, covering every surface in twinkle lights. If I recall, there’s a cut-your-own-tree farm nearby as well, and I can fully imagine Rosie dragging me here to get not just herself, but me a tree as well. I can’t remember the last time I put a Christmas tree up in my place, not because I don’t like them, but because I’ve never really had a reason to.

Rosie is definitely a reason to.

But then I remember that come Halloween, we won’t be… this anymore.

We’ll be friends.

Neighbors.

And a niggling part of my brain wonders if we’ll even be friends, considering I don’t know if I’ll be able to stomach watching her date another man, fall in love with him, start a life with him…

Not when I’m slowly realizing I want that person to be me.

I don’t have time to wallow in my newfound misery, though, because Rosie is tugging my hand in the direction of the restaurant, both sisters trailing behind us and giggling and whispering as they do, just like Rosie predicted.

I’m an only child, and most of my friends growing up were as well, but like most only kids, I desperately wanted siblings when I was young. Seeing Rosie and her sisters reminds me exactly why: a built-in circle of friends who both have your back and are willing to call you out on shit. I know it gets to Rosie sometimes, but I also know she loves it more than anything.

There’s a short line outside the restaurant, people checking in or waiting to see if they can be seated. We wait to speak with the host, though it’s not a drag, as Rosie and her sisters constantly laugh and talk, make up games, and argue with one another. I don’t talk much, but I don’t have to. It’s comfortable in a way I haven’t felt in a crowd in some time. Two or three minutes into the wait, Rosie backs up into me, and I wrap my arms around her. Her head tips back to look at me, a soft smile on her lips.

“I’m chilly,” she says. I smile and shake my head, before stepping back and shrugging my jacket off. I have a thick sweater beneath it, and we’re next in line, but Rosie’s lips are turning blue.

“I told you to wear a jacket,” I say low. Poppy lets out a sound then, and when our eye contact breaks, I realize both of Rosie’s sisters are watching us, with a look that’s a mix of intrigue and satisfaction. Rosie slips her arms into each sleeve before wrapping the oversized coat around her tightly, a soft noise of contentment leaving her lips. I pull her into me, her back to mine as we continue to wait, rubbing my hands over her arms.

“You know, you’re the first guy Rosie has let us spend time with,” Violet says after a long moment, taking us in. I feel Rosie’s body go still beneath mine, and it makes me pause with anticipation.

“Shut up, Vi,” she says, but there’s no heat in the words.

“What? He is! You never bring guys around us.”

“That’s not true,” Rosie says, shaking her head. I know if I could see her face, she’d be rolling her eyes at her sisters.

“It kind of is,” Poppy says. “You usually just drop in for five minutes so we can pull a hit-and-run inquisition before running off. You never let us actually spend time with your boyfriends.” This is news to me, though it explains why her sisters never approve of the men she dates. What kind of man wouldn’t want to spend at least a dinner with some of the most important people in her life?

“See, even Poppy says! And when Poppy joins in, that means it has to be true,” Vi says with a raised eyebrow directed at her older sister.

“I bring guys around you two. Only when they’re worth the effort of having to get the third degree from you. There’s a good shot you two would scare off any guy I bring around if I let you spend too much time with them, so I have to make sure I’ve hooked ’em deep enough.”

“So Jack is worth the effort?” I want to hear the answer, my pulse beating as Violet lifts an eyebrow at her. Silence fills our small area, and I can almost feel the daggers she has pointed at her sisters with her eyes, but then Poppy turns to me with a smile.

“Better question is, are you hooked enough in our sister to not get scared by our third degree? It’s pretty clear Rosie’s into you enough to ensure our madness, but are you in deep enough not to get scared off?”

“I think anyone who isn’t willing to have her sisters make sure they feel good about whoever she is spending her time with probably has something to hide and isn’t worth Rosie’s time,” is what I land on, trying to balance between not wanting to make things harder for Rosie and telling Poppy and Violet a bit of my truth: that there are a lot of people out there who would complain about having her sisters interrogating them, and I am very much not one of them.

I’m realizing faster and faster with each passing minute that I would do a lot of things to make Rosie mine.

Four hours later, my stomach is full of treats that we had at Rosie’s place while her sisters chatted with my grandfather, and Rosie and I watched. Their interrogation had continued through dinner and the drive home, but it never felt invasive or uncomfortable, though Rosie told me nearly a dozen times You don’t have to answer that when her sisters would ask something personal. But I answered every single one, for some reason, comfortable around the Mayfield women. Then we came back to Rosie’s place so the girls could meet and talk to Phillip.

Apparently, ever since Rosie confessed that she had summoned him, they’d been dying to meet him. We sat anxiously for the first five or so minutes, terrified that my grandfather would spill the beans about the curse that Rosie had never told her sisters about, but he played the game perfectly, telling jokes and making Poppy and Violet laugh for an hour before Vi said she needed to head home since the bakery opened early.

“I’ll go feed Percy,” I say to Rosie, trying to give the sisters some privacy.

“You don’t have to, I—”

I smile, pretty sure Rosie is just trying to avoid alone time with her sisters, but I shake my head.

“I know I don’t have to, but I’m going to. Take your time saying goodbye. Later, Poppy, Vi,” I say with a wave.