I chuckled and headed upstairs, already mentally cataloging what I needed to do to get ready. Shower, find clothes that didn’t make me look like a rumpled librarian, attempt to tame my hairinto something resembling a style, maybe splash on the cologne I’d bought three years ago and never opened.
Was the tangy scent of Drakkar still in fashion?
The hot water felt amazing against my shoulders as I stood under the spray, trying to calm the nervous energy that had been building all morning. This was just lunch. Casual, low pressure, no big deal.
Except it felt like a huge deal.
It felt like the kind of lunch that could change everything.
I was stepping out of the shower when I realized I couldn’t hear anything other than Debbie’s tea party. Julia should have been here by now. It was eleven-forty, and she was supposed to arrive at eleven-thirty so I could brief her on Debbie’s lunch preferences and appear properly relaxed when Jeremiah showed up.
I wrapped a towel around my waist and checked my messages.
None.
Maybe she was just running a few minutes late. Julia was seventeen—punctuality wasn’t exactly her strong suit. In fact, I wasn’t sure it was even in her vocabulary.
I got dressed quickly, pulling on dark jeans and a blue button-down that Debbie had declared “very handsome” when I’d tried it on yesterday. My hair was still damp and doing that thing where it stuck up at odd angles no matter what I did to it.
Eleven-fifty.
Still no Julia.
I sent her a quick text.
Me: Hey, running a bit late? Everything okay?
Minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness.
Eleven-fifty-five.
Eleven-fifty-eight.
My phone chimed. I snatched it up like Harrison Ford grabbing the Holy Grail.
Postie: Hey you. Don’t hate me. Traffic’s evil. I’m about twenty mins late.
I let out a relieved sigh. That gave Julia—and me—time.
Me: No worries. Julia’s late, too. Take your time.
I texted Julia again.
My phone remained stubbornly silent.
At exactly noon, when Jeremiah was scheduled to arrive, my phone finally rang.
“Mister J, oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Julia’s voice was breathless and panicked. It was hard to hear her over the unmistakable noise of heavy traffic. It sounded like she was standing in the middle of the interstate. “I know you’re probably freaking out right now, but my car completely died on the way over. Like, dead dead. It won’t even turn over.”
My stomach dropped to somewhere around my ankles. “Where are you?”
“Stuck on the side of I-85 waiting for a tow truck. My dad’s on his way, but there’s no way I can make it to your place in time. I am so, so sorry. I know you had that lunch thing today.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and counted to five, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. It wasn’t Julia’s fault her car had broken down. Life happened.
“Do you need help? I could come pick you up—”
“No, no, my dad’s already on his way. You should go on your date. Can’t you take Debbie with you?”
