Page 2 of Not Until I Found You

I busy myself by grabbing a trash bag off a picnic table and start clearing paper plates. Around me, the cookout slowly begins to unravel into goodbye hugs, slamming truck doors, and people hollering promises to ’do this again soon’ across the yard. Luke shuts the tailgate of his patrol truck with a loud bang while Olivia balances a foil pan against her hip on her way toward the cooler, Wren trailing behind her with an armful of leftovers.

I watch them for a moment, struck by how easily everyone seems to move from one chapter to the next. The evening folds itself away, piece by piece, everyone slipping back into their lives as naturally as they arrived.

Life keeps moving, whether my heart is ready for it or not.

Edna catches sight of me and narrows her glassy blue eyes with purpose. That look is never good. Before I can escape, she makes her way toward me with surprising speed for a seventy-year-old woman carrying a purse the size of a suitcase.

“There you are,” she announces, “I’ve been trying to corner you all evening.”

I know she has, which is exactly why I’ve spent the last two hours strategically avoiding her. I brace myself because I already know where this conversation will go, and there’s no safe way out once Edna gets an idea lodged in her head.

“That sentence alone concerns me.”

“Oh, nonsense. I have something exciting to share with you.” She beams, and the wrinkles by her red-painted lips deepen.

I inhale slowly through my nose, preparing myself for impact.

“I reached out to my great-niece, Vicky, and asked her if she’d be interested in going out on a date with you, and she said yes. Isn’t that wonderful?”

And there it is: Edna’s matchmaking era has officially returned. Ever since Luke and Olivia started dating, she’s been entirely too confident in her abilities to pair people off. Never mind the fact that Olivia survived three disastrous blind dates beforehand, including one man who brought his pet ferret to dinner. I have no intention of becoming her next success story.

How do I get out of this?

Olivia chokes on her drink somewhere behind us. I eye her, my frown deepening because this is sort of her fault. Wren immediately abandons cleanup duty and drifts closer, sensing entertainment the way sharks smell blood in the water.

I sigh. “Edna⁠—”

“No, you listen to me.” She points a bony finger in my face. “You’re nearing your thirties, living alone in that cabin over there, in the middle of these woods, wearing that awful raccoon shirt, and frankly, I’m starting to get concerned.”

Wren points at me triumphantly. “Thank you.”

I glance down at my shirt. “What? This is my favorite shirt."

“It says Stay Trashy,” Wren deadpans.

“It’s vintage.”

Wren snorts. “It’s embarrassing.”

Edna nods toward me in agreement while Wren crosses her arms smugly beside her. I thought she would have my back, being my best friend and all. I guess I thought wrong.

“Edna,” I begin carefully, “I appreciate the thought, but I really don’t think⁠—”

“Vicky is really pretty,” she adds, ignoring me.

“That’s not the issue.”

“She owns her own hair salon.”

“That’s also not the issue.”

“She has excellent childbearing hips.”

“Edna!” Olivia wheezes so hard she nearly drops another foil pan.

Edna shrugs unapologetically. “What? It’s true.”

Wren doubles over laughing, clutching Olivia’s arm to steady herself while I pinch the bridge of my nose and reconsider every life decision that led me to this exact moment.