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Lo laughed. “Sorry, Dad.” She turned to me. “What the fuck, Billie?”
“So much better, Daughter. Don’t forget, you’re a sailor’s little girl. Cursing is one of life’s joys for me.”
Vicky reached over to pat her husband’s hand.
“True. What was I thinking?” She zeroed in on me again. “What’d you think about Travis?”
Travis? I thought about it, about him. “I liked him too.”
“Shut up!” She slapped the table. “You did?”
Roger and Vicky shared a look behind Lo’s head, which I didn’t understand. I nodded. “I did.” I shared my thoughts about him. It was true. He’d surprised me.
“Travis wants to ask you out again. What about we do a couple thing like I first suggested? Jack’s BBQ has live music playing on Friday. We should go. Do you want to go?” She grasped Roger’s hand, squeezing tight.
Oh, boy.
Lo was really rooting for Travis.
I met Roger’s gaze. There was a slight plea in his eyes.
This was more about Lo than me. I’d have to explain it to Travis.
I was interested in Brett. I’d be honest with both of them. I’d have to explain it to Brett too, reminding him that he’d not called when this insistent request came in from my best friend. I just hoped both would understand.
“Okay,” I said.
Lo squealed, still clenching Roger’s hand.
“Agh, Wife! My hand. I still need it for a few more years, you know.”
“Oh! Shit.” She glanced at Howard. “Fuck.”
He held up his drink to her. “That’s my daughter.”
“So sorry, honey,” Lo said. “I was all up in my feels for a minute.”
“We’re quite aware.” He smoothed out the cuts her nails had dug into his skin before leaning over for a kiss. “At least let me keep my hand until the girls are eighteen and out of the house. You’re going to need both of them for carrying bags, helping hang up posters, rearranging the furniture. But after they’re out of the house, you can have my hand. It’s all yours.”
“Don’t forget when they move after college. For their first job? Their second? When they get their first mortgage…” Howard offered.
“Right.” Roger gave Lo a stern look. “I need to keep my hand until our girls get married. Their spouses can take over then.”
Lo snorted. “Always such a television sitcom around here.”
Everyone shared a laugh at that one, and Vicky changed the subject, giving me a break, which I noted as she looked over the rim of her glass at me. She asked how the girls were doing in gymnastics, and I remembered how I would’ve killed for a family when I was younger. How this, right here, this meal, the teasing, the laughs, and the real conversation, it wouldn’t have been a sitcom for me.
It was the family I always wished for, and I’d gotten my wish.
If Brett didn’t call, it’d be okay. It wasn’t supposed to work for us. And again, I’d already gotten my wish.
I’d be just fine.
“He hasn’t called?” Lo asked.
It was ten at night, and she and I were sitting on the patio by my place.
Roger had left to take care of the girls, but everyone knew Lo was staying. She wanted to know more about Brett and the date.
