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"Sixty-eight years," Mrs. D stated proudly.
"And what do you ladies think is the secret to a long relationship?"
Knox wasn’t just making small talk. He’d always been fascinated by how some people managed to last so long while other couples fell apart. He was young when his dad died, but he did remember his parents laughing a lot. And he had vivid memories of the way his dad’s face would light up when his mom walked into the room. He remembered his mom always snuggling up to his dad on the couch when they would watch TV together.
He’d always wondered if his dad had lived—would his parents still be together?
He also remembered how devastated his mom had been, and, as far as he knew, she never dated again. He’d always assumed it was because his dad had been her one true love and no man could ever take his place, but he’d never actually asked her.
Maybe part of him was scared of what her answer would be.
He hadn’t seen that many successful relationships in his life. Ninety-nine percent of the couples he knew were military, and the service put a strain on a lot of relationships. Ford was the only brother that had been married, and his first marriage had been bad with a capital B.
"I’d say that the biggest key is not trying to make one person your everything or make it their responsibility to make you happy," Mrs. Weathersby explained. "You have to have your own life and identity. You can’t depend on someone else for happiness; it’s an inside job."
"Wilma’s right," Mrs. D confirmed. "I think the problem these days is that young people start to feel unhappy, and there are so many options at their fingertips. They forget that most relationships aren’t butterflies and rainbows. It’s work. It’s just finding someone to go through life with. I think people focus too much on who they want to have romantic dinners with and not enough on who they’d want to go stand in line at the DMV with. I think the key is finding someone you want to do both with."
As Knox continued walking, considering the wisdom the two women had just shared, something dawned on him.
He turned to Mrs. Weathersby. "Wait, your name is Wilma?"
She nodded.
"And your husband’s name is Fred?" Knox had a pretty decent memory, and that’s the name she’d mentioned the first day he’d met her. She’d said Fred was at home.
Mrs. D chuckled. "That’s right. Fred and Wilma, just like the Flintstones."
"We dress up as them every Halloween." Mrs. Weathersby beamed. "Have been for over fifty years."
Knox couldn’t help but smile at the way Mrs. Weathersby lit up at the mention of her and her husband’s tradition. He wondered if the kind of love that Wilma and Fred had was still possible in this day and age.
In a way, technology made it easier than ever to meet people, but it also made people lonelier than ever and gave people so many options. He’d witnessed firsthand how the internet and social media destroyed more than one relationship.
Ford and Chrissy had proven that it was possible. Even the cynic in him had to admit that they were perfect for each other. Maybe there was hope for this generation after all.
But right now, all he was really hoping for was that Laura would be at the speed dating event tonight. If not, there might not be any hope for him.
13
"Three o’clock. Incoming."Kennedy whispered under her breath.
Laura looked to her right and saw the man who she’d hoped to see all week walking into Lanterns. And he wasn’t alone. He was escorting two women. Mrs. D and Mrs. Weathersby were each holding a muscled, tattooed arm. Tonight he wore a button-down, and just like at the wedding when they’d danced, it was rolled up, revealing his chiseled forearms.
"Those two are going to eat him alive. Does he have any idea the fire he’s playing with?" Kennedy asked.
"I think he wants to get burned."
Laura was certain that Knox would love nothing more than to be the next Needlepoint Mafia target. If anything, it seemed he was campaigning for the role. From the tiny bit of internet searching she’d done, it seemed Knox was the Flavor of the Month King.
Unlike most men she knew who either didn’t post any pictures of women or deleted all digital footprints of someone they’d seen, Knox’s entire Insta was filled with him and beautiful women. Each one seemed to have about a four-week shelf life.
The thing that boggled Laura’s mind was that all his exes still followed him and liked and commented on his pictures, even when the pictures were of him with other women. She knew that Knox was charming, but it was a special gift to run through that many women and remain friends with them.
"Alright, everyone who is here for Sensory Speed Date please listen up. Welcome, I’m Felicity and will be your host for the evening." Felicity’s hair was long, red, and curly. Her porcelain skin was only a shade darker than the white midi dress she wore. She reminded Laura of a young Nicole Kidman. "Women, please make your way onto the deck; gentlemen, please gather at the bar. Once everyone is signed in, we’ll get started."
Laura did her best not to look in Knox’s direction as she and Kennedy walked out onto the outdoor deck. She reminded herself that it didn’t matter that he was here. She didn’tcare at allthat she’d have to spend the next hour or so watching him speed date other women.
Actually, that might be a good thing. Maybe seeing him flirt with other women—women who weren’t in their nineties—would be good for her. It would be a wakeup call to his behavior.
