Uncle Sal and Uncle Michael are both sitting in chairs in front of the board where my dates are written, drinking cups of coffee.
“Ah! There she is,” Nonna says. “Well, this is what we’re going to do. Sal and Michael will each write down the date they have planned, and then we’ll take a vote. For those who aren’t here, Charlie is getting their vote by text.”
Charlie is at the counter, looking half asleep.
“We’re all voting?” I ask.
Nonna gives me a look. “Of course! We’re all invested at this point, so it’s only fair. Remember, you’re doing this for Margot!”
“Uh-huh. I knew you’d find a way to use that against me.” Then I give her a hug and say, “Bring it on.” There’s really no use fighting this anymore.
Olivia and I squeeze in between Aunt Camille and Charlie’s mom, Aunt Ayin.
Uncle Sal hops up from his chair and moves to the whiteboard. There’s a black line cutting the board in half, and he starts writing on the top part.
When Uncle Sal steps away, we all read the board.
“So I guess this is a cooking date?” I say. There’s a lot of whispering throughout the room.
Uncle Sal sits back down, and Uncle Michael shakes his head. “Heating it up in the kitchen?Is that the best you could come up with?”
“Well, let’s see what you’ve got,” Uncle Sal answers.
Uncle Michael makes a big production of getting a rag and wiping away the already clean space below the black line. Then he stares at the blank surface, his fist sitting under his chin as if he’s in deep thought.
“Get on with it, Michael,” Nonna says from her chair.
He writes each letter so slowly I want to groan with impatience. Finally, he steps away, looking very pleased with himself.
“I know who I’m voting for!” Aunt Camille shouts.
Uncle Sal turns to look at her. “Really?”
She shrugs. “That’s just too cute, Sal. And you know it.”
I read the board three times.
“So…this is a bowling date?” I ask.
“Yes! And because you’re on my team, House Lane-ister, you’ll need to dress accordingly.”
“Is that aGame of Thronesreference?” Charlie asks.
Michael’s expression shows us just how dumb he thinks Charlie’s question is.
Olivia starts jumping up and down. “I want to go! Pleeeeease!” she whines, then looks at Uncle Sal. “Sorry. Yours looks fun, too.”
“We’re full, but I might be able to get you a spot on I Can’t Believe It’s Not Gutter,” Uncle Michael says. “You have to dress like you’re on the cover of a romance novel, though.”
Now I’m really confused. “What does that fake butter have to do with romance covers?”
He looks at me incredulously. “Because Fabio, the guy from the romance novel covers, was in all those fake butter commercials.” All he left off was theduhat the end of his sentence.
“Sign. Me. Up!” Olivia squeals.
“How are you on a bowling team when you don’t even live here?” Uncle Sal asks Michael.
“Just because I don’t live here doesn’t mean I don’t have friends here. There’s this thing calledsocial mediawhere people who live far away from each other can still keep in touch. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
