“And if you think back, do you honestly feel you were ready for a serious relationship two years ago?”
I stared at her for a moment, thinking about that time in my life and how I felt about relationships then. “No, I wasn’t. I wasn’t open to it at all.”
Grier nodded. “So maybe these two years weren’t wasted. Maybe you spent them growing into someone who’s ready to commit.”
“Seriously, how did you get so smart?” Yancy asked Grier. “You’re five years younger than me, but I feel like you know so much more.”
Grier giggled, the light sound unfamiliar but still beautiful. “Many years of watching other people live their lives, make mistakes, and find success.”
“I think she’s an immortal who stopped aging at twenty-five,” Chelsea mumbled. “She’s probably a thousand years old.”
We all laughed, even Grier.
“My dad invited him to our Thursday night dinner this week,” I announced.
“Wow, your dad invited him to Thursday dinner?” Yancy asked.
I’d explained to my friends that it was our time together and non-family members were rarely invited.
“And he brought up marriage this weekend,” I blurted out.
“Your dad?” Chelsea asked, looking confused.
I laughed. “No, Jordan.”
“What?” Chelsea and Yancy yelled in unison.
Grier winced at the volume of their voices and I laughed.
“He didn’t ask me to marry him,” I clarified. “He just brought it up.”
“Still, you guys have only been together a little over a month. That seems really quick,” Chelsea said.
“Yeah, that does seem quick,” Yancy agreed.
“Maybe it is, but we didn’t decide to elope this weekend. It was just a conversation.”
“We haven’t even met him yet,” Chelsea pointed out. “If it’s that serious, I want to meet him.”
“Chelsea, why do you need to meet him?”
“You’re one of my best friends. Best friends meet the boyfriend before he becomes the fiancé. What happens if he hates us? You won’t hang out with us anymore!”
“Of course I’ll hang out with you,” I told her. Chelsea wasn’t overly dramatic often, but she did have her moments. “And if he doesn’t love you as much as I do, then he’ll just have to get over it.”
“Promise?” she asked.
“Yes, now quit being a drama queen.”
Chelsea scowled at me. “I’m not a drama queen,” she denied.
“You all can come over for dinner this weekend. I’ll cook something.”
Chelsea and Yancy looked at me with stark fear in their eyes. Even Grier seemed hesitant.
“My cooking isn’t that bad, y’all,” I defended myself.
“If you believe that, I think you’ve ruined your taste buds,” Chelsea stated baldly.
