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I did trust Chris that way though, which was kind of funny to say. I could tell Chris and I fully believed he would never say a word to anyone if I asked him not to.

I’d talked to Chris a lot lately. In fact, it felt like I talked to Chris more than Lexi and Mike. It was mostly when we were swapping Woofarine. It usually started with whatever book we were reading, but then it would move to something else. Phil or my mom, or Bergmans or whatever we had going on. We’d stand in the entry of whoever’s place it was for so long sometimes, it felt like we should sit, but we never did. Just stood there, one of us holding the dog, catching up until one of us had to go. We’d text each other book reactions or pictures of Woofarine. I made him the chicken and dumplings soup he’d asked for when he got sick a few weeks ago and had Mike drop it off.

I think Mike really liked that we got along. I liked it too.

Mike’s friend group was like a family. I got the feeling if they didn’t like me, Mike and I wouldn’t have lasted long. But Samantha and Becca and the guys had all really embraced me.

I still hadn’t told Mike I loved him, but I could kind of see us being together in the long run. I could picture our own engagement party like this one day, everyone there. Chris would be the best man.

Chris would be the best man…

Huh.

Mike came back and handed me a red Solo cup of soda.

“Thanks,” I said, taking a sip. “Hey, can we stop and do a secret shop on the way home?”

“For what?” he asked.

“Fifteen dollars.”

He let out a laugh. “Babe, that won’t even cover the gas in my truck. I’ll just give you the fifteen bucks.”

“I don’t want you to give it to me. I want to make it. It’s on the way.”

He put an arm around me. “What you should be doing is moving in with me. Then you won’t have to work at all.”

I made a face. “Why wouldn’t I work?”

“Because I’ll take care of you.”

“Ha. That’s a nice offer, but no.”

He glanced down at me. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious?”

“I mean, that’s kind of my job, no? Pay the bills?”

Becca rolled her eyes. “Have you considered that maybe she’d like to have her own career, Mike? It’s not 1950.”

I edged out from under him. “I’m not doing what my mom did. I want my own income.”

“For what?” He chuckled. “What do you think is gonna happen, babe?”

“What happens all the time to women everywhere?” Becca said. “You spend decades of your life raising kids and managing the house and then the man cheats or hits you or leaves you with small children and you’re left homeless and penniless without a way to support yourself? I see it literally every day. There’s lots of ways to take care of someone that doesn’t involve financial control. Try again.”

I looked at Becca gratefully, glad that she said it so I didn’t have to.

I know Mike was well-intentioned, but I didn’t want a man to support me. I wanted a man to empower me to support myself. I didn’t want to make the choices Mom made. I wasn’t going to be a worn-out woman standing in a sliding glass door chain smoking while the alcoholic on the couch pounded beers and flipped through channels on my TV. I was going to have a way out that wasn’t the door I came in through.

“Working is what makes me feel safe. Okay?”

He put his hands up. “Okay, okay. If that’s what you want.” He pulled me back into a good-natured hug. “You didn’t have to bring your lawyer.” He winked at Becca. She rolled her eyes again but smiled this time.

The subject changed and the party went on. I didn’t bring up the secret shop again.

But neither did he.